This Day in History...

Many terrible, awful, horrible events are marked today. Adolf Hitler was born in 1889. More recently and closer to home, today is the 12th anniversary of the Columbine school shooting and also it has been one year to the day of the BP Gulf Oil disaster. All of that could lead a girl to have a drink or two today. Or smoke... since today is THAT day too (a "holiday" invented by community college students. Or Incubus fans. But that might be redundant).

To balance the bleak cloud (or smoke cloud) that hangs over April 20th, God did us a favor in 1979 and ushered my sister into the world. A gamma ray of sunshine was born unto us so that in 32 years time I could focus on her and how much I love her and not on the images of adorable sea life and beautiful landscape being destroyed.

Happy Birthday Nily!

When I was 4, my sister's 8th birthday party was a first in the derka- derka household. It was a slumber party and of course I was sternly instructed to not bother her and her friends. And of course I didn't that think this was fair. No amount of whining moved my parents on the subject.

Resigned to my fate, I spent the majority of the party tucked away in the hallway; tempted by their sophisticated giggles I, willed them to ask me to come hang out with them. I would peak my head around the corner, testing the line of how visible I could make myself before Nily would tell me to scram, or worse, tell mom.


I had retreated, once again, back into the shadows and begged the universe to have one of the other girls call out my name to join them. If one of her friends wanted me to join the party, I was guaranteed some direct face time with them.

I got my wish after presents were opened.My sister was the proud new owner of a pastel purple crimper. The hair styling tool of the 80's, the crimper did exactly that - it "crimped" your hair. With technology similar to a waffle maker, girls could add fun texture, volume and style to their hair with-out chemicals or harsh smells. The 100+ degree tool was completely safe for 8 year olds to operate by themselves.

Texture, volume and style were three things my hair did not need more of. In fact, if there was a de-crimper that is what I needed (I later learned they do make these, they're called "flat irons"). When I heard one of the girls proclaim "we should totally crimp your little sister's hair!!!" my heart rang out with unadulterated joy and happiness.

They wanted me.

As I proceeded into the living room, it became clear that they had already crimped their own hair and now wanted a doll to play with that didn’t melt under the intense heat. Didn't make a lick of difference to me. All I cared was that I was now included in the fun and all eyes were on me.


I took my rightful place - in the middle. With the girls in a circle around me, the crimping began. They took turns sectioning off my massive amount of hair and holding it between the two hot wrinkled plates.

"Oh man, that's totally radical" one of them exclaimed, as my hair began to grow, which I knew to mean only good things; My self-worth was validated.


I sat through the tugs, pulls and burns, determined to be a good doll for them. I didn't want the fun to end. I wasn't sure if I would be dismissed when they were done or, like I hoped, if I could stick around, having earned my slumber party badge of acceptance. I hoped they’d let me stay since I had clearly survived the hazing.

This is where my memory of my sister’s 8th birthday becomes foggy, mainly because I remember being really happy. Happy I was hanging out with my sister and all her super cool, super chic and super crimped friends.




I love you, sis!

ps - who is rocking the SH!T out of those aerobic pandas? You bet your ass my mom made that.