All Rileyed Up

I used to live next door to the sweetest family. Their two daughters loved the Notorious F.O.X. and dog-sat for me when Hubby and I wed and honeymooned. We celebrated holidays with this family. We swam together. We broke bread and held hands and sang Kumbayah. Life was one big happy commune.*

We were sad to move, but we still keep in touch. Now these sweet daughters are older, and I just received an invitation to their joint-graduation party (joint meaning two-in-one—what were YOU thinking, pothead?). Older Sis graduates from college, Younger Sis from high school.

Older Sis graduates with a degree in visual arts with an emphasis in film. She is currently entered in a film contest in which YOU can cast a vote. Behold her film:

Know what I like about this film?

Brevity. Subtlety.

It makes a lovely statement with a little bit of music, a little bit of color, and some well-chosen words. It’s so NOT Oliver Stone. And I love all things that are not Oliver Stone.

Don’t you want to vote for her?

Really, don’t you?

Come on, vote for her.

So… good luck to Older Sis with the post-college life and good luck to Younger Sis with the starting-college life. Both are good times. I miss those days. I envy those days… sob, sob, sob… excuse me, I need to go have a premature mid-life crisis.**

P.S. Did you vote?***

*Some statements have been embellished.
**Not this one. Okay, maybe a little.
***Vote NOW.