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Chapter One
I have a nice Greek mother. Mom’s only wish in life was to have good children who could get along in public and avoid shaming the Andreadis family name.
Her wish wasn’t granted. Not even close.
She has one daughter who’s gorgeous on the outside but is pretty much scorched earth on the inside.
In my senior year of college, I was home for a visit and a date stood me up. I dressed up, took particular care with my makeup, and even shaved my legs.
A waste of fucking time.
Feeling sorry for myself, I threw on pajamas and parked myself on the couch to watch a documentary about famine.
Ava interrupted to ask me if I stole her eyeliner.
Without looking at her, I replied, “No, bitch.”
Stepping in front of the television, she pressed her point. “I spent thirty bucks on that eyeliner…”
“I care about your irresponsible spending habits, why?”
Ava has this thing she does where she puts her arms straight at her sides and screams with her mouth closed when she’s mad.
Shit always made me laugh.
“My belongingsmatter, Petra! My life is just as important as those starving kids from whatever country! Stoplaughingat me!” Storming away, she screamed, “Mom!”
My little sister. Spoiled and petulant. Convinced since birth that the universe revolves around her and we’re all subjects breathless to do her bidding.
Then there’s me.
“Koukla, you are a wholedifferentkettle of fish,” my grandmother always says. It’s quickly followed by, “When are you going to getmarried? You’re not getting any younger.”
“I know, Yiayia. Iknow.”
She doesn’t like that I own my own business, hates when I curse, and thinks I’m still a virgin.
To be fair, she isn’t happy with a lot of my mother’s decisions either. We don’t fit the Old Country mold for women.
I’ve been known, once or twice, to drop atom bombs of sarcasm on certain situations.
I’m honest. I tell the truth no matter how much you don’t want to hear it or how mean you think I am.
If you don’t want me to give it to you real, it’s best if you don’t choose me as a sounding board.
You’ll only getone warningif you come at me with the phrase, “What do you think?”
I’m more than happy to tell you. In detail. With graphics and charts and a few reference materials to back up my point of view.
I can take it as good as I give it.
Over the years, I’ve lost a ton of friends for telling them real shit without the honey drizzle. The ones who stuck around are awesome and the ones who didn’t I should have realized sooner were more trouble than they were worth.
If you’re not under the age of seven, over the age of seventy, or recovering from a medical procedure, don’t expect me to hold your hand literally or metaphorically.
Let’s keep it tight and keep it moving, people. Life’s too short.
I mentioned my sister is gorgeous on the outside. Ava got the few skinny genes we have in our curvy family and good for her. God knows she uses that gift like a blunt instrument to get her way in every area of her life.
