deep in the ocean, there lies a wave for you

Yesterday, I did not want to come back to D.C. I wanted to stay in Boston with my sister. It is so comforting to be with someone who knows me so well and who wants to do all of the same things that I do. Usually those things are just eating, drinking, and watching sweet stuff on TV, but whatever. The times we did leave her apartment, we did some in-public eating and drinking and made my “Good Will Hunting” pilgrimage to Harvard Square. We also laugh so hard and so inappropriately all of the time, people must think we are crazy. She brought me to tears in the company of strangers at least once each day I was there.

I had some crying fits throughout yesterday, dreading the flight, landing in D.C., taking the bus and the metro to the reality of unemployment and a city that no longer contains Clark’s welcome home. In Boston, with a sister to tend to me and occupy me, I could pretend for a few days that things were relatively ordinary. Or that I was on a permanent vacation where finding a job and dealing with these stages doesn’t have to happen because I have my sister to feed me and crack me up.

So I was the weird, defeated-looking girl crying in spurts at the gate and on the plane. The thought of taking the bus from BWI to Greenbelt and then the Metro from Greenbelt to Columbia Heights made me even more upset! So I called Cella, who borrowed the Moonwagon to come and pick me up. She said she had a treat for me. I thought being able to smoke in the privacy of my own car was enough.

She had to pee, so we pulled over at a McDonald’s and made bad food decisions, which turned out to be perfect, because the surprise she had was this song, wherein Justin Timberlake equates eating with sex:

So we ate our gross fast food in the car while listening to this song. Then, when we came home, we obviously watched both this and this. Justin Timberlake, James Franco, Justin Theroux, Will Arnett + Amy Poehler? Apparently my sister is not the only one who knows how to distract me.