February 16, 2009
Siblings are the secret ingredient to a full life. Take my sister, Julia. She sheds penthouse Manhattan for our crumbling Brooklyn brownstone every third or fourth Sunday and treats me and my broke partner to brunch, lunch, dinner, drinks, dessert, or some combination there of. She sings to our cock-eyed, under-bitten, special-needs dog, then walks her down the street swiftly putting the children and grown men into their place as they say things like, "what is that thing?" She asks questions and pulls good-natured pranks and then, even though she can afford the car service, takes the winding mismatch of tangential buses and local trains back towards her island with us. So it was, that after attempting to pinpoint the year our parents went crazy while eating the best 6 dollar burgers ever on a lonely Sunday night street in Red Hook on the day after Valentines we stood waiting for the B61 bus. And saw this:Heaven could be ours, Omar. Love Nausheen
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