Friday, October 29, 2010


My younger sister, Erin, is one of the most obsessive people I know - once she learns about something, she can't stop until she knows everything about it. She's really like my mom in that sense.

For example . . .

After we saw the movie 300, she stayed up until 4 am reading stuff on the internet until she became the resident expert on Sparta. And she recently started watching the Showtime series "The Tudors" so now, after a few nights of late-night googling a few trips to the optometrist for eye fatigue, she knows everything there is to know about Henry VIII. When she read "The Help," she spent a week researching Medgar Evers . . . and added Ghosts of Mississippi to her Netflix queue. And don't even get me started about what she did after watching "My Left Foot" . . .

It's crazy.

And it's a problem.

So I knew I was in for trouble when she started watching Food, Inc., which is an expose about the alarming state of food production in the United States. Aaaaaaaaaaaaaand, unfortunately for me, she had her phone next to her.

And I'm on speed dial . . .

Me: Hey, Erin!
Erin: Catherine, I want to kill myself.
Me: Why? Did you scratch your Twilight DVD?
Erin: That's not funny - don't joke about that. No - it's because I'm watching Food, Inc., Catherine. It's horrible.
Me: Oh really?
Erin: Catherine - 1 in 3 Americans born after 2000 will get early onset diabetes! 1 in 3!!
Me: Yikes.
Erin: Worst. Movie. EVER.
Me: Sounds like it.
Erin: But there's a man on here and he needs someone to be a true friend because he has MONSTER nose hairs. It's distracting me from this crisis.
Me: Oh - I wish you'd never told me that . . .
Erin: Okay - I have to go. It's like watching a train wreck.

Me: Hey, Erin!
Erin: The chicks are real sad, Catherine. They're real sad.
Me: Why?
Erin: Because they just throw them on conveyor belts and they're little legs are flailing and it's sooooo sad [getting choked up].
Me: You're a lunatic.
Erin: Shut up. Gotta go.

Me: Hey!
Erin: Catherine, I can't take it.
Me: What?
Erin: They hang the cows upside down before they kill them!
Me: Oh that's sad.
Erin: And they have to stand in their own feces at the feed farms. So by the time that they go to the butcher they're completely covered in their own feces! I can't take it!
Me: Well, turn it off!
Erin: I've gotta go . . .
Me: [looking at my phone] Okaaaaaay . . .

Me: Hey!
Erin: The pigs scream, Catherine! THEY SCREAM!!
Me: Think THEY do . . .
Erin: This is horrible.
Me: So let me get this straight. You couldn't stay up past 9:30 last night to hang out with your SISTER but throw some screaming pigs in the picture and you're suddenly a night owl?
Erin: And the chicks! They grabbed me right away, Catch. If you come to my house with kegs and arms flailing on a conveyer belt, you'd get my attention, too.
Me: Kegs?
Erin: I meant legs.
Me: Yeah - cuz kegs would be a little harder to flail.
Erin: But you could do a keg stand - THAT would get my attention.
Me: I can't do handstands for more than 2 seconds so I'd need a little help. Maaaaaaaaaybe someone could hang me upside down like the cows . . .
Erin: You hateful, hateful bit- gotta go . . . the nosehair guy's on again . . .

Me: Seriously?
Erin: Just FYI, in case you ever want something fun to talk about at parties - THEY CLEANSE OUR MEAT WITH AMMONIA. THE MEAT TURNS WHITE!!
Me: That doesn't sound good.
Erin: Freakin' AMMONIA, Catherine.
Me: Hmmmmmm . . .
Erin: I seriously want to kill myself right now.
Me: I know how you feel . . .
Erin: We are NOT eating meat anymore. I'm done with it. [Then to her husband] Matt - we are NOT eating meat . . . for at LEAST like two weeks.
Matt: Okay - I'm ordering the pizza. What kind do you want?
Erin: Meatlovers. [Back to me] Anyway, Catherine - where was I?


Phyllis Eddings said...

Well, with the exception of this incident*, I so belong in your family. I'm an obsessive researcher too. I feel the internet was Al Gore's personal gift to me. :-)

*I haven't see the show, but most of the same information is in the "Skinny B*tch" diet book. I was a vegetarian for a week.