Send Cheetos, Please

Okay, Amanda,

I finally called my sister M back (she was phone-stalking me) and she rather awkwardly invited herself over, while clearly on the verge of tears, because she needed to talk to me. She said she'd bring wine. I told her that wasn't necessary. I was wrong. OH. MY. GOD. I can't still wrap my mind around all that she told me. Suffice it to say that there are more layers to the dysfunction of her marriage than I could have guessed.

Let me try to sort this out a little before I try to write about it. I'll make it tomorrow's agenda. Paris can wait.

Love you, Barb