This is my little sister Ruth. She's so cute. I hate her. She's such a goody-two-shoes. I never could do anything without her squealing to mom. But does she ever get caught doing anything herself? Of course not. And you see that t-shirt? That's my t-shirt! She's always stealing my clothes when I'm not looking. She also stole my boyfriend when I was a senior and she was just a stinkin' sophomore. I will have my revenge!

My other sister, Elizabeth. She's Ruth's twin, but very cool. She's an artist. One of her ironwork sculptures was recently installed behind Coit Tower in San Francisco. You can't see it unless you walk around the tower and through some trees, but we're all very proud of her. We're not quite sure what it's supposed to be; Elizabeth says it's an answer to "the blatant phallic worship that Coit Tower represents", but to me it looks a bit like a fighter plane that crashed into a tank.

Our baby sister, Mary. We're not really sure why Mom chose to name her Mary, 'cause we're Jewish, other than Mom said something about being mad at God when she got pregnant again. It doesn't really matter, 'cause she insists that we all call her Jezebel. Mary/Jezebel can't decide whether to become a fashion designer for Hot Topic, an anarchist, or the lead singer for a goth band. We're just hoping she doesn't try to set her room on fire again.

Dear old Mom. She was supposed to be taking a picture of me and my date before we went to prom. She was a bit drunk. Dad says she drinks because we make her cry.

This is Aunt Jean. She's a peach. She runs the synagogue women's circle, bakes pies for every school fundraiser, and volunteers at the pet shelter. My sisters and I all love Aunt Jean. We spend as much time at her house as we can. We don't care what our cousins Marcie and Jane say about her, Aunt Jean is the best.

Our cousin Jane doesn't talk much. She spends a lot of time in the basement watching TV and smoking. She says they're hand-rolled cigarettes, but they smell funny. Jane and Mary like to go out to the cemetary at night a lot. They must be looking for ghosts.

By the time she was 18, cousin Marcie had had two abortions and spent a year in juvie for taking a cop car and crashing it into the river. We still can't believe that she was able to swim to shore with the handcuffs still on. Nowdays she sings for a punk band called Vaginal Discharge and has been arrested for onstage indecent exposure in three counties. She says she's going to show me how to pierce my own nipples. Yay!

This picture of Aunt Gloria was taking while she and our cousin Hope were staying with us during Aunt Gloria's trial. She was aquitted, but they never have found Uncle Sherman. She seemed so broken up about it that we were all surprised when she married Uncle Frank so quickly. Uncle Frank hasn't been seen for a few weeks now. Aunt Gloria says he often likes to go for really long drives by himself.

Cousin Hope (aka "Don't fucking call me that.") runs a tattoo and piercing parlor out of the back of her van. She says she has to move her shop around all the time because there was a mixup with the permit. She goes by the name Weyrdragon now and says she's going to legally change her name to that once she has the money. Mom says she's a saint for taking in all those young girls who live on the streets. Hope/Weyrdragon must be awfully generous with her money, because they never need to stay with her for more than a couple of weeks.