I have a million better things to do, but sorting through stuff today came across this photo of my sister on prom night, 1968. That's Eddy Sullivan (yes, that's his name) proudly presenting her with a two-carnation corsage and she's looking at like What a piece of crap. And I know that's what she's thinking because I grew up with her, remember?

Poor girl, carnations are her destiny. Five years later when she married someone she met in college the florist lost the flower order and instead of roses she ended up with carnations they just threw together. It's Karma, I tell you.