God Doesn't Like Vegetables

My family, we eat together. Not every day, but often enough.

"Eat something green" Leah told Seth.

"I'm a carnivore. I eat meat." Seth replied.

"Seriously you should eat some broccoli."

"Hey Abel tried to offer God vegetables, and God didn't want them. Why should we?" Nathaniel said, "Seth is just trying to be more like God."

Fail

So the sweet 26 year old girl I tried to set my older brother up with is.... apparently quite smitten with a just turned 18 year old who is not yet out of highschool.

Dude.

This is why I don't shouldn't play matchmaker.

Untitled Story

I miss you already
        and
I miss 'our' chapter
        but
As I start to slam the book closed
        so
Unhappy with this ending

The Author reminds me
He is writing my book
    (If I let Him)

And it's not over yet

Perhaps we were only minor characters in each other's story
But will be supporting characters in someone else's book

Here's to happy endings...

----

Why. Does. The. Belly. Need. Prayer?

Just posted something about bellies, and now I'm posting this. (Because I told Sharron I probably would post these two old posts from my drafts.) Probably I've written too much about bellies, so that's kinda awkward but...
---
I don't want girls rubbing my belly either.

In fact that is sometimes even more uncomfortable than guys rubbing it. Girls only occasional do so to me, and is more brief, so less intrusive.

Except in church when praying.

One of my friends recently said, "I hate, like, when someone pets my arm. And these people who have to be all over you all the time." She shuddered, "I am not a touchie person."

I made a mental note of her preferences, then said with a shudder, "Yeah well, I am a touchie person, but when people pray for my belly I feel assaulted."

Then that very night at church, "Put your hand on her belly and pray for her." I was told as the guy moved my hand. Usually it's men who tell you to do that. Because they are uncomfortable touching a lady's belly themselves.

But. Why. Does. The. Belly. Need. Prayed. For.

I could understand, maybe, if they were being prayed for a stomach cramp, but... It's like they think a lady's soul is stuck in their belly or something...

I moved my hand, to her shoulder. And someone moved it back.

So there I was with my hand on someones belly with, 'Awkward and squishy. Awkward and squishy. Awkward and squishy'  playing in my mind like a scratched C.D. Not comfortably squishy like pinching a fat roll just... just awkward (seriously I can not explain the horrible terrible awkwardness of praying for someone's belly.)

'I'll just pray for her belt' I told myself, and moved my hand to the wide belt over her waist 'much better.'

People pray for bellies all the time. AS IF it is normal. Or something.

If anyone prays for mine I stand there and waste my prayers on praying that they will leave.
Or tense up and try to keep the frustration out of my face.
I fight nervous laughter.
Or I step away.

Occasionally I continue praying even though my belly is being assaulted. Mostly only if I am really really feeling that the person is lead by God to pray for me.

Edit: Sunday (11-28-10) a lady was praying for me and grabbed my ribs just above my belly. It was still strange, but not horribly so. If your hands need to be in that vicinity my ribs might be an acceptable place for them.

If you see my belly being prayed for, feel free to mention my discomfort to the person and/or send them a link to this post after service. Please.

My Belly is Mine. Not Yours. Please Don't Touch It.

---
I know my rock hard abs fascinate you. Oh well.  Get over it. Go pet a turtle.

---

When I was 16 one of my best friends used to always grab me and force me still while petting my belly. And I fussed and fumed and pushed him away, but he just laughed. Finally I talked to his girlfriend, "Can you please, pleeeeease ask ____ to quit touching my belly?" So he stopped. (I'm sure she didn't like watching him always grabbing me either...)

I said that to say I would do so again. A mild threat I guess.

There is another guy who won't stop grabbing me again lately. Ugh it freaks me out.

So to you. (And yes I know that you know I have a blog)

I've already asked you to quit--Please do so.

My belly is off limits for you. I am definitely more cautious around the people who have grabbed my tush and boobs than those who pet my belly. I realize you don't feel that it is a big deal. Maybe even your wife doesn't care.

But I care. My belly is too much for you (a married man) to be rubbing. I realize that your belly is not important to you, and it has been explained to me by various people that acquaintances/friends rubbing each others bellies is the same as a handshake. *Shudder*

I don't consider you a creep. (Only because you are normal in other ways, and I feel your heart is clean.)

However, this particular behavior is creeping me out.

[Edit: I did talk to this recent guy's wife. Bla awkward. But it's over, so that's good.]

Twinking / Try to NOT Upset the Parents

I feel like a bad friend today.

I've come to understand that matching is painfully difficult for some people. It doesn't bother me. Maybe because I grew up dirt poor, and we were lucky if our hand-me-downs were presentable. Maybe because my girlfriends used to try to match.
But I usually try to respect other people's feelings.

I was just making conversation.

"Ohh, I love your blazer. I need one." (I lost my black blazer in Pennslyvania)

"Um, uh I got it at Wal-Mart."

I had assumed Courtney had given it to her, and didn't think buying one was an option. But knowledge is power...

So the next week I bought one. And have carefully avoided wearing it around our mutual friends.

Just in case...

I got in trouble that way once. Sort of. Well not my trouble but it was a guilt trip lemmetellya... A different day. A different girl.

I was trying on hoodies.

"I have that one." she said.

"Does Rusty mean something? Is that someone famous? I really don't want to wear someone's name."  Everyone laughed at me and said no.

(I'm no skater chic. PacSun isn't my style. I was only looking because they were $5.)

I pulled it off the hanger, and tried it on, but she cringed so I asked, "Do you care if I have the same hoodie as you?"

And she said, "No."

But she didn't mean it. And I knew that, but bought it anyway.

She griped a little about 'twinkin.' Was a two-sided jacket. Designs on one side and purple on the other. Upon asking, she said she only wore the purple side outside, so I determined to wear the other side.

--2 weeks later--

"You have a jacket just like ____" It was her mom, "Why aren't you wearing it on the pretty side."

"Well ___  doesn't like to match." I said it matter of fact, then I caught her mom's face and said, "I really don't care though, I like this side."

She went all mama bear, but the other way around. "Honey you wear it on the pretty side! Turn that inside out right away!"

It was very awkward. And I tried to explain that I really was fine with the other side. And said I hadn't been told not to match.

But the next week the daughter was all, "I'm sorry." (I'm sure her mom fussed at her.)

It's no crime to not want to match.

Awkward.
Drama.

Bla. It isn't even a very cute hoodie.

I Could Really Use A Change of Heart

"Where do you see yourself in 5 years?" he asked.

Self conscious, I slouched a little down the wall, "I would like to be married."

"Do you plan to keep a job after you're married?"

"Until I have kids." The thought of staying home with children all the time is not an exciting thought to me. But I believe that the parents should raise their children not the grandma. (When beliefs and desires conflict; I usually stick to beliefs...)

"I was thinking that, so theres not a lot of point of you going to school."

"Weeeeell 5 years ago I wouldn't have expected myself to be still single today, soooo."

"But that was by choice right? You could be married by now if you wanted to."

'Shove it in my face man... Yes. I walked away from everyone.'

I was busy, they didn't suit me, one (or 8) of my friends were in love with him and I didn't want to destroy my girl friendships, or I was scared...or my heart was otherwise occupied, so I didn't give anyone else a chance.

Mostly the heart-being-otherwise-occupied thing.

I'm everything or nothing; either intensely in like, or planning my escape. Usually both simultaneously. I hate that. Blast this.

What is the matter with me?

Of Biking and My Awesome Neighbors

'The Bicycle Girl'

That's what some of my neighbors call me. When I'd not ridden for a while several of them mentioned that they'd been praying for me and had requested prayer at their small family church because, "We knew something was wrong."

Last week I met one of them in town at a car show, "This one." He said turning to my friend, "We usually see her 2 or 3 times a week." Then turning to me, "Where have you been?"

"My bike. It has a flat."

"I have an air compressor. Come by anytime when you see me working outside, and I'll blow it up for you."

I would say I was surprised, but I wasn't. They're neighbors and it was like him to offer.

"Sweet! Thank you! It's not just flat; it has a hole. I can fix it, but do you have water?" Was trying to find out if I needed to lug a bucket or just carry my patch kit...

Yesterday when I came home from work, Mom said, "There's a surprise for you in your room."

A new small sturdy air compressor with blue air tubes.

From my neighbors.

I Shall Call it My Funeral Purse

6:20: home from work and running up the steps 2 at a time. The funeral started at 7:00, and was who-knows-where in Athens. Threw a black outfit onto my bed, then onto my body. Then deodorant (or did I forget that?) Brushed my teeth, used salicylic acid cleansing pads on my face.

6:29 out the door: hoping my brother knows how to find this place. Stepped into Josh's car and used smoothing cream on my frizzy curls. Moved my wallet and a few important items from my messenger bag style purse and into a classy black clutch.

6: 46 made it to Ziegler's Funeral Home: breathed a sigh of relief to be early rather than late.
---
I never met him, but Ross was in his 60's, and mentally handicapped all his life. His mom, who he had lived with all his life, died last month. Everyone said, "He is happier in heaven."

...I'm really glad we went, because I love his family a lot, and staying helped them to know it.
---
"We are ready to start the service," the funeral director said into his mouthpiece, so everyone was seated, and the piano player (Tabitha Scott) began a song.

Everyone sat quietly except the lady on the other side of Josh. She started emptying her purse's contents onto her lap, then shoved it across his lap and into mine, "You like small purses?" she whispered loudly.

"Uh huh," then trying to be polite whispered, "Yours is nice,"

"Enjoy it," she said, adding emphatically, "I can NOT carry a small purse!"

'Oh, she is giving this to me,' it sunk in.

What do you say to someone who gives you a Prada purse in the middle of a funeral?

I panicked inside.

You know how it is when people give you something (especially something expensive) and expect you to fall madly in love with the awesomeness of the wonderful amazing gift and will periodically ask to make sure you tuck it into bed with you after kissing it goodnight? But you are just 'meh' and wondering how fast you can toss it without them knowing.

I was afraid it would be like that.

So I said, "Are you sure? It's nice, but I don't know for sure if I'd carry it."

She grinned and replied, "That's fine. You don't have to keep it. Give it away. I don't care. Just take it."

I said thanks, and she turned her attention back to the funeral.

While I stole glances at the purse in my lap.

'Structured' was my first thought. 'Alligator leather' was my second. Then 'Not my style.'

'But oddly enough I rather like it.'

-Happiness

Do Things Poorly: In Defence of the Mediocre

My latest goal (well one of them) is to do things poorly.

(That's just the way I word it to myself, so that I remember.)

People talk about perfectionism as if it's a wonderful glorious thing. As if perfectionists do everything perfectly, and thus are perfect.

That's not true.

Perfectionists often skip important things because they aren't smart enough or skilled enough to do that thing perfectly. Or they wait until, "I have time to do a good [perfect] job."

Sometimes they take so much time doing an awesome job, but instead could complete three mediocre jobs in the same time frame... And have some spare time.

Do things poorly

Spare time. Coming right up.

I hope.

Organizing...(And Giving Some of My Clothes Away?) AKA My NonMinimalistic Lifestyle Take 2

My clothes rod fell down last week.

My closet is not set up correctly; one of the clothes rod holder things was not there when I inherited the bedroom. It's a faulty rod setup. That's true. I promise. Here is a picture.

But it fell because it was overloaded.

Mom suggested I use an extra dresser; she also mentioned using the rack that Hannah had used for some of her clothes, but I keep picturing in my head the room a friend/acquaintance's description,

"I shop a lot. Besides my bedroom closet I have an extra bedroom just for clothes, and I have 3 of those big round metal racks that are in stores... I still have to go through it about once a month though and bag up 3 of those big black garbage bags full of clothes to give away every month."

(If I knew her better I would've asked for one or two of those black trash bags of hand-me-down clothes. She buys expensive clothes. And extra clothes racks are tempting.)

But I cringe at the thought of becoming like that. (Ouch!) I spend very little on clothes; I'll never have her credit card payments, but--

Obviously I have too many clothes for my closet. I do have room for another dresser or two since I moved out the spare bed and Hannah's dresser, but I don't want another dresser. I would probably only end up using it for papers and books anyway. (I hate putting clothes in drawers...) I also dislike the thought of another clothes rack. It reeks of losing control, and giving in, and OCD, and my acquaintance whose extra room (turned closet) I am writing about.

In February I wrote about my solution here. "If I don't wear an item within a year I will lose it." I told myself.  Then I turned all my hangers backward to keep track.) It was brilliant. And simple.
But...

My year is only 2/3rds over, and I have worn almost everything.

Before I freed the rod from the grasping hooks of my white plastic hangers I pulled all clothing out that was on backward hangers out, and set them on top of my hamper. There were just a few things and I easily dropped them into my giveaway box.

Surprisingly I had worn almost all of the clothes in my closet.

The hanger challenge did help me purge unnecessary clothing. It just happened sooner than I expected. I gave away clothes each month because I noticed the things that weren't being worn, and that helped me to realize that I didn't need them.

I was somewhat disappointed to not have a big closet clean out day, but it was very painless.

That means I need all my clothes right?

No. I don't. I need for my closet rod to not keep falling. I need my life to be organized.

So My Overloaded Clothes Rod Crashed... Again

"Will you fix my closet please?" I looked up at him with big sad eyes.

I always ask Seth or N8 when I need help. Truthfully any of the brothers would help me, but N8 & Seth screw things/carry heavy objects/kill bees without having to remind them a lot of times. And they don't make fun of me for asking.

(Well except that time I had a nightmare about sock snakes. They ALL still laugh at me 4 that...)

I don't feel like I am a bother to them. (Or at least not much of a bother...)

But my clothes rod fell several times while I shared a closet with Hannah. Plus once since she moved out. It's not the first time I've asked for help putting it back up. So I kinda expected some ragging...

"Again!" Seth said, then turned to a sibling (I can't remember which one.) "I'm not fixin' that thang til she gets rid of some stuff. 500 lbs of clothes and she wonders why it keeps fallin'..."

Actually I've never wondered why it falls. I've always known I have too many clothes on the rod. The Libbey part of me wanted to prove that his statement incorrect, and I could have, but when you want something from someone you are not to argue with their beside-the-point logic. (Pick your battles; I learned that in church.)

One side of my mouth turned down, "I did take some things out," I said quietly, hung my head sadly, and slouched my shoulders in mock defeat, (FYI: My shame and sadness were not faked only exemplified.)

It didn't work.

Actually he was still going to fix it.
I know he would've.
He always does.

But just in case... "If you fix my closet I'll go to town and buy you candy!"

Libbey's love candy A LOT. According to Leah's facebook page she loves candy more than she loves me. That's sad :(

"Naw I'll fix it. For free. You don't even have to give me candy."

And he did.

I feel very loved.

I went to town and bought candy anyway. Then I ate it all.
That's sad :(

2009 Goal (well one of them): Take more Pictures

 Looking at pictures lately...

Why is my neck at that weird angle?

Must I always wrap my arms around people's waist when I am photographed with them? I look like I'm enthusiastically squashing them to death...Creepy

I need to look at the camera when a picture is being taken. My smile is great. My face is facing the camera, but.... my eyes are darting in the opposite direction.

Dude I need to straighten my shoulders. Do I usually slump like that?

I should have put my heels back on on; that dress drags.

Whats with all the junk in the background?

Plus

Dead pictures haha. I <3 them.

That day was so much fun.

My eyebrows are considerably nicer now.

My life is really cool. Look at all the neat things I've done lately.

I love my friends.

Memories...
-------------
"Take a picture with me," Sharon said pulling out her cell phone.

"Right now? In the middle of Wal-mart??!!" I asked, cringing slightly as shoppers milled past.

She glanced down the aisle we were standing in, "Yeah, I don't think anything of it... I do it all the time. Shell and I take pictures everywhere."

I glanced awkwardly around, "OK. Sure." then I bent at my knees so my face would be closer to her level. (I have a lot of short friends. Really, really short friends...)

She took 3 or 4 pictures; they were all off focus or blurry or showing only half of each of our faces.

"Last one." I said, and cheesed one more time. "If this one doesn't work I'm giving up."
------------
I should let people take pictures with me. I know that. I like pictures. It's just... I am showing my age I know, but taking pictures in the middle of Wal-mart feels so weird.
------------

Leah isn't really any more photogenic than me. She does have self portrait skills, holding the camera up and centering herself perfectly. But the real reason she has so many more pics is because she takes the time to take pictures. A lot of them.

A piece of that is really weird and awkward to me.

But I would like to have more pictures. So, yeah, my latest goal is to start taking pictures more often. I'm a little too old to be making Wal-Mart my personal photo booth, but elsewhere you know.
----------
I wrote most of this post in 2009.
------
After the jump: a few pictures from after our formal dinner.

I shall name this post Spots

This is me...

I'm 25. My face shouldn't still be an oil slick.

But...since my sebaceous (oil) glands forgot to notice that I've grown up I gotta work to keep my face clear.

And I do. And it is.

(mostly)

But sometimes I break out :o

When that happens

I don't cry or scream. Thats childish.

Instead I pout. (How mature of me...)

In this pic I have the Proactive refining mask dotted on my face. (I don't use their skincare line; just the mask.)

...But one night I had dotted a little on a couple of breakouts and forgot to wash it off in the morning. So uh... I went to work with spots. "Um Esther you've got toothpaste on your face," Jeff said.

So now I use Mario Badescue's drying cream. They gave me the cutest samples a year ago. (Probably I love the tiny containers more than the products--Weird me.) The drying cream works really well though, It's a little too yellow, but blends with my skin color, so I can get away with wearing it throughout the day. I'll probably buy some when I use up this sample, but it should last another year or two, since I rarely need it.

So Tiny!! See the size comparison with a bobby pin. Adorable!!

------------

"Esther why are you posting this?"

"The pic? To go with my post-- besides you told me to take more pictures."

"This wasn't what I had in mind when I told you to start taking more pictures."

"My cheeks are cute anyway. Look how fat they are."

"Avoidance. You are avoiding the subject."

*Sigh*

"Is it really a good idea to mention all your skin care stuff? Shouldn't you pretend to never do anything and still have perfect skin?"

"You want me to lie?!!" *gasp*

"Omitting those things isn't lying; it's tact--and you know it."

"Get over yourself. It's a funny picture."

"Whatever, ok keep the picture, but it's more than just about the picture... You should think about it. Didn't one of your mentors tell you to never tell anyone about any of your flaws?"

To be continued

"--Um No. Not to be continued.."

"I wasn't talking to you."

---
The best thing about arguing with myself?
I usually win.
The worst thing... I tend to lose

Fears: (Not like I have them or anything, but I can always write about other people's...)

At church last night after the preaching Pastor said people who were struggling with fear should come up to the altar to pray & be prayed for.

"I probably should go," my friend said with a frustrated sigh, "But I really don't want to."

"Want me to go with you?" I asked. "Because, you know, I will."

So we walked up there, and yeah it was actually a little awkward.

Except for a few people everyone just bunched up and prayed for other people because they didn't have the nerve to admit that they wanted/needed prayer their own self. They were afraid to admit that they are afraid I guess.*

'People will think I am battling fears. Hmmm,' I briefly tried to figure out what fears they would decide I was fighting. (I crack myself up all the time by thinking about what other people are probably thinking. I'm sure it's not normal, but whatever, it's hillarous.... Click here for a story about my past awfulness on that subject.)

I did actually pray for my friend also.

Then I was all trying to think of something I was afraid of. I went through a list of things people are afraid of and mentally crossed them off. 'Yeah, I'm not afraid of anything.' I told myself then remembered 'Oh. Yeah. That.' I froze inside a little bit then was all, 'Whatever not really. I'm over that now.'

At least mostly

Sisters and Weirdness & 'Just Friends' Friendships

Jumped off on this random story, so decided to give it a separate post.
Has been years since I did this, but I still think it's funny.

---

It had been a few weeks that my sister Shalom thought I had a crush on one of my guy friends. (I actually did, and do, adore him but you know not 'like that'.) She wouldn't come right out and say "I think you like _____." But was always saying little things to that effect, and looking all sly and saying, "I know a secret," or "I know who Esther likes," anytime I was around him or his name came up.


After a time I decided to play with her. Partly because I decided it would be funny and partly because I preferred her not to figure out who I actually did like, so she couldn't embarrass me by accidentally announcing my personal preferences to the world. (See previous paragraph.)

So...

When they were both around I would pretend to like him. Not enough for him to think I liked him but just enough to lead her on. (Honest it didn't take much. I just looked at his face a little longer than other peoples and smiled benignly anytime he said anything. I only had to do that when she was looking at me.)

(I can't remember who he was in love with at the time, but it wasn't me. And he didn't notice, and I didn't hurt or confuse him, because he didn't notice... And I would not hurt him. And it's wrong to hurt people just for my own amusement. I know that.)

After a month or so she started to say, "Yeah I've known for a long time that you liked _______."

I would answer with, "No. Just as a friend. It's not like that."

"You can't fool me." She would reply.

Leah thought it was really weird.

I thought it was really funny.

Probably my humor is warped. Not like perverted warped, just all the twists and turns of my psyche are odd.

Hmmm

Libbey Potty Humor

Spades.

Leah was losing badly. Libbeys, we like to win.

"You sunk. I make you sink" He he he Seth laughed.

"Well you're just a pooper scooper." Leah said mock glaring at Seth and dumping her tricks in the pile to be shuffled before continuing, "You're not even the guy doing the scooping. You are the scooper. The plastic thing--That's what you are."

Seth promptly replied, ""Really? Well guess what you are. You." He left a short dramatic pause before continuing, "Are the poop."

Leah sputtered a bit while we all giggled (Surely she know she was already beaten in this word war.) But she replied, "Well you are the poop still in the horses butt then."

"At least I'm warm." was Seth's retort. "You're all cold and chunky."

Clothes, Hangers, and My NonMinimalist lifestyle

One of my friends is always saying, "I prefer a minimalist lifestyle." I nod agreeable until she says, "I have only 2 pairs of jeans and 5 shirts, and I like it that way."

Then I'm all, "Huh? Um, ok" and try to hide my horror.

'I've been shopping with you; why buy so much if you're going to toss these things in a few months.'

Later on those nights, after she has been talking about her minimalistic lifestyle, I stand and admire the many colors of shirts in my drawers, and all the different shades of denim in my closet, and I feel very happy. (It's like that time my friend told me she was allergic to chocolate, and I savored my hollow milk chocolate bunny with extra appreciation.)

What I'm saying is: I like having lots of clothes--I'm not about to give away 2/3rds of everything that I own for the sake of minimalism. (I'm sure that lifestyle is awesome--for you--(I guess) It's not at all what I want.)

(I do not have as many clothes as Josh or N8, but that's not saying much lol...)

Because Shoes = Happiness!

Still

My closet is almost full, and I refuse to put any clothes except work shirts, pajamas, and underclothes in my dresser drawers, (I hate ironing....) And there is just too much stuff in my room.

So I need to get rid of some of my clothes.

My solution:

Last week I washed all my clothes, hung them up, and then turned all my hangers backward. After I wear something and it's been washed, I hang it up with the hangers facing normal. This way I can see what I've been wearing and what is just taking up space.

Within a year (from last week) I will have to get rid of anything on a backward hanger. (I am excusing the 1 formal dress that I own from this purge.)

Today I added this event to November 8, 2010 on my google calendar "Must Give Away any clothing I haven't worn (AKA Backward hangers)" clicked on options and requested a SMS (text message) reminder to be sent to my cell at 5:30 that day.

Then I cheated and requested an email reminder to be sent to me 10 days before, so I can wear whatever I don't want to lose.

I told Danika that I was gonna show up for volleyball and be changing outfits every 15 minutes. ("Oh wait guys I'm sweaty--gotta change... Hold on a minute there's dirt on the hem of my skirt. Gotta change...."

Well see


Edit: This post is 2 months old and has been sitting in my drafts because I was waiting to add pictures of my closet. I've finally pulled the pics off my camera and onto a thumb-drive...

You're My Brother; You're My Sister (Or Not)

I dislike the mandatory 'brother' and 'sister' prefixes that people in our church circles attach to each other’s names.


I think they get it from I Timothy 5:1-2

Rebuke not an elder, but intreat him as a father; and the younger men as brethren;
The elder women as mothers; the younger as sisters, with all purity.

But we don't go around calling the older men 'Father_____' or older ladies 'Mother______.' I shudder at the creepiness of the thought.

I call people sister and brother on a regular basis, so that people don't feel disrespected. I've done this my whole life, but it's still weird. Supposedly it’s to show that people are your family in Christ, and you are as close as siblings. (I think.)

I understand that we are to have a church family.

No one does those titles with their blood family though; if brothering and sistering everyone is to show we are siblings it makes no sense. I don't say, "Brother Seth will you please jump start my car?" or "Sister Leah do you wanna hit the mall tonight?"

When you are closer to people is when you generally lose the tags and titles.

It's weird.

I do it, but only so that I am not considered 'that disrespectful girl.'

I'm quite fond of 'Mr.' and 'Mrs.' and 'Miss'.

So instead I will joke about the weirdness on my blog and continue calling you Brother [insert your name here] or Sister [insert your name here].

But I don't have to like it.

N8: From Bald 2 Beautiful

N8 with Hannah's hair... (He knows I am posting this btw)

Doesn't mean he is going to grow his hair long....