“Hey XXX, Try shoving horse shit for once. It builds character.”

– Note left for a fellow rider who would habitually not muck her horse’s stall.

***

 

The K-8 bus pulls off of Old Barnstable Road and stops at the curb of Mashpee Middle School. As the students are preparing exit Joe DiMaggio’s vinyl-lined transport for excellence, I suddenly hear a familiar voice coming from the very front: 

“Hey shithead!” is the eloquently-crafted sentence that is pitched to the back of the bus and delivered with a sarcastic smile. 

In the instant that these words are uttered, the bus driver does a stunned double take and grabs the arm of the girl who has just kicked off the school day with a brilliant crash.

“That is not the type of language that you hear from a young lady!” he chastens her. 

I’m watching this scene unfold, but still find the whole exchange to be largely unremarkable. Little does this bus driver know, but “young lady” is the last label that I would attempt to stick to the person he is trying to discipline. I should know. He’s talking to my sister.

***

Those anecdotes are just two quick memories that pop into my head when I think about my oldest sister, Myriah. Today is her birthday (merci, Facebook), and as a result I have been walking around and thinking about the ways that she has helped to make me who I am. I can’t send her any crappy African tin can art from where I am living, so this entry will serve as a sort of birthday gift to her- if I was ever organized to have done such a thing in the past…

I’m one of five children, and we are all very different from a personality standpoint. I think that this fun fact is a direct result of Myriah’s performance as the first kid on the ground. I don’t know how or why, but she decided early on that she was going to ditch any instruction manual that life handed her and instead play the game with the strength and vocabulary of a Barbary Pirate. Behold the “young lady” who the bus driver was up against.

What makes my sister so great is her strength and perpetual upbeat desire to deliver razor-sharp commentary on a situation. Her obstinacy and willingness to break the mold of acceptable behavior let the rest of us kids know that it was okay- and maybe even encouraged- to live your life according to your own rhythm. She has always been a person who moves through life like she is propelled by some kind of internal force that you wish you yourself could master. Stay out of Myriah’s way- she’s got a plan, and we all want to see how she pulls it off.

So I’m not trying to embarrass the family by writing an essay on “Why I love my sister”- but I do think that she bears a bit of mention in a blog where I’m always yammering on just about myself. I know without a doubt that having Riah as a role model has helped to make me stronger, more intolerant of bullshit, and definitely a better connoisseur of old school horror movies, metal and rap music. Off the top of my head I am thinking of Re-Animator, The Serpent and the Rainbow, Suicidal Tendencies and As Nasty As They Wanna Be. I am a well-rounded person.

You can’t put any of us Hallinans in a neatly-defined box; the preceding list of classic media selections is certainly evidence of that. I kind of like it that way, too. So thanks Myriah- I’m not even sure how old you are this year (there are too many of us to keep track)-  but it doesn’t really matter. I’m super proud to call you my sister, and even though your crass Facebook comments always have my finger hovering over the “Hide all by Myriah” button- I would never dream of doing it.