I miss Oprah. After 25 years she ended her show with a bang. This was a bang that was watched around the world and even talked about in the nightly news. Every last show banged with surprises, tears and lots of hugs. But what I missed most was MY chance to hug it out with Oprah, to cry on her shoulder as I shared with her my journey as a Middle Sister. The struggle of being in the middle, of having an older sister who thinks MMR (men, marriage and relationships) is as simple as an oil change while also trying to maintain my “cool” status with the little sister who is convinced now that she is older that she is way more cooler than I am. I have become more of a vintage form of “cool” if I can even be considered cool at all. Well if you ask me, cool is not even cool anymore.
In my desire to be cool I am sometimes reminded of that strange lady at work who I share the elevator with from time to time. Without disappointment this lady takes me back to the 90's. Every time I see her she has on the classic ½ inch pumps and a bad perm that she hairsprays and teases into a big puff 3 inches high above her head. I am amazed every time I see her. I wonder where she gets her hair done and importantly I wonder what is going on in her head! Does she not see that no one else has that hair do anymore or that color eyeshadow? I admire her and yet sadden at the same time for her. She is definitely an example of someone who has not been able to move on and let things go. So it brings me back to LS. I don’t want to turn into the 1990s Lady from work just to impress LS on how cool I can still be. The last time LS thought I was cool was the late 90s so I gotta just let that one go and keep it there otherwise I will become the next miss 1990s and I would rather let the special lady shine in all the glory herself. She definitely deserves to.
But if I did have a chance to have dinner with Oprah what would I share? How about the time BS threatened to cut my long beautiful hair when I fell asleep (which to this day she still maintains a slightly evil snicker as she shares the story). Its almost scary that it seems to be her most favorite memory with me that she likes to share. The beauty of having sisters are the memories we cultivate and share growing up together yet I just don’t know how beautiful of a memory that story is BS.. My memories of BS growing up always had Madonna playing in the background. A little Melrose place and Beverly Hills 90210 about sums it up. Oh, and I can't forget the Keri Lotion that she generously lathers on her thick calves every morning in my cousins Toyota pick up truck as he drove us to school. She would place her legs on the dashboard and me being squished in the Middle (as usual) couldn't see anything but her thick legs until we arrived at her school and dropped her off.
I need Oprah in my life. I have two sisters, great times, great memories, yada yada.. but the only Sister that I ever felt that could really appreciate this Middle Sister was Oprah. Maybe that's a slight exaggeration but its partially true...There are a lot of things I could make into a show for Oprah. She just hasn’t heard it all yet. Good news is shes done (with the show) not dead so I still have a chance. We can call it “Confession Sessions with O".
