For your consideration, part I.

Nicole has challenged me.

Vignette One: The Christmas Show

Everyone who knows me knows that I have a flair for the dramatic...to put it lightly. For as long as I can remember this has been the case. When I was in fourth grade, I went to an Episcopal school and we lived in this fabulous apartment in Baltimore, MD, on the second floor of the former German Embassy. It consisted of three gigantic rooms and a kitchen. My sister Andrea and I had a ballroom for a bedroom complete with crystal chandelier. It was insane. Insane! Suffice it to say, I doubt a day went by that we didn't leap, sashay or twirl through that room. I mean, how could we not.

And so it was the winter of 93-94. Andrea was in her tomboy phase...which lasted for a while. I just thought I was the most graceful artistic thing...and a dancer, to boot. We were thick as thieves, especially considering our only friends outside of school were a crack dealer who stole Emma's stroller and a homeless man named Skinny, whom we fed Gushers and ambushed with snowballs. Our grandmother was visiting and she had a video camera. A video camera! Which she was willing, nay WANTED to use to film us doing what we do best...performing.

So the stage was set. I pulled out my best costume dress (light blue with tiny raised white polka dots and a big, full skirt, in case you wanted to know). I made tickets, and instructed Andrea as to how this was going to go. It was February. We had this Christmas tape we couldn't let go of, so yeah, we were going to do our Christmas song and dance show. In February. Not a big deal.

We had assigned songs. I took classics and slow ballads. Andrea got the perky, upbeat, kidzbop style. She was cut out for those. You had the spunk and the club moves. Sure, she fell down in the middle of one of her routines, but she also stopped dancing at one point to alert: "Look! Backwards pants!" What up, Criss Cross!

With what I perceived to be swan-like grace and the voice of an angel, I set out to move my audience with a beautiful rendition of 'Silent Night.' Something about this upset Andrea. Apparently, she didn't just want to be known for hip hop Christmas. As I was floating around (my) stage, joining the tape with my vocals, I hear the screeching sounds of another...Andrea. She was trying to join my song. This was obviously, and justifiably upsetting. I pleaded for her to stop. I reasoned that this was my song, my turn. She would now listen. So I did the only thing I thought would work. I started kicking her. But I didn't just stop dancing ops to take care of business....no no no. I worked it into my routine. Yeah, there was twirling, graceful hand motions, angelic choruses, and a KICK to the side. And repeat. This did not stop Andrea. Rather it encouraged her to continue. She started singing louder and kicking back. What's more is that the camera ceased to be just on me. Andrea! Sabotage! By the end of the song, I was pouty, near tears, and Andrea emerged as the clear victor of this little battle royale. She had ruined my song, ruined my dance, and stole attention away from me.

And so, the story of a Christmas routine, gone horribly awry. In February. And caught on tape. We watch it virtually every year. We are in tears every single time. And we always vow that if we would just send it in to America's Funniest Home Videos, we would win.

Coming next...Vignette Two: Walking is Hard.