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It’s my littlest brother’s birthday. To celebrate, I’m going to America for 5 weeks without him. Not exactly on purpose. I mean, it was on purpose that we planned to go away and I guess come to think of it, it was on purpose that we didn’t invite him. But it wasn’t really a factor in our plans that we would leave the day before his birthday. That was just a happy coincidence.

I love Jeff. He does our laundry and cooks pretty good dinners and takes care of the cats when we go away on holiday. He says Shiny is even friendly with him while I’m gone but I’ve never seen any evidence of her being friendly with anyone other than me so I’m not convinced. Any cat belonging to me couldn’t possibly be a fickle creature.

Also, Jeff is good at cheering me up when I’m sad. A long time ago when I was going through a very depressing time in my life, he made me tea every time he saw me. He never said anything, didn’t ask first, he just automatically got up and made me tea. Like Sheldon Cooper says, tea isn’t optional.

Is my Communism showing?

I like the park. My favourite part is climbing on the giant spiderwebs. Last year I decided the best way to tackle road-related anxiety was to learn to ride a motorcycle. Here in Oz that means you have to complete a couple of two day courses which while very comprehensive actually have no bearing on whether you get your licence in the end. That all depends on your performance in a 5 minute test at the end. All that hard work is now resting on the next few minutes. Try to relax. But don’t mess up – you’ll fail. No pressure or anything. Sadly, I failed that first test: partly because of the exam anxiety and partly, I should confess, because I just suck. (In case you’re wondering, I did the test again a week later and passed and now I’m fully licenced to ride a motorbike so you better check your blind spots.)

I was so disappointed. I rang my baby brother and cried and he said, “It’s okay, Sista (he always calls me Sista) We’ll go to the park and climb on the spiderweb” and instantly I was happy again.

I told the rest of my motorcycle group that my little brother said we could go to the park and they all crooned, “Oh how cute! How old is he?!”

He likes to remind people that he made this suggestion to cheer ME up, not because it’s something he wanted to do. But he had just as much fun as I did, clambering over the ropes in the pouring rain. He was better at it than I was too and I’m fairly certain that has nothing to do with the fact I was wearing boots and motorcycle jeans and everything to do with the fact that he practices every day.

Nevertheless, I love you Jeffrey. Happy 25th birthday. Say hi to Michael Cera for me and try not to trash the house having awesome parties while we’re gone.

Scott Pilgrim says "Happy ... birthday? I guess?" (he always sounds a bit uncertain about everything)

 PS. Can you feed the cats while we’re gone?