My dad took off when Georgie and I were still newborns (fraternal twins), so I have no recollection of the guy. All I ever hear about him was that he was a good-for-nothing low life. Thanks for breaking it down, Poppy. I'm the youngest (she beat me by three minutes) out of four kids and the only guy. Although, I suppose it isn't fair to consider us kids anymore. With Georgie and me at 17, Holly at 18, and Audrey two weeks shy of 21, we're each adult in our own way. However, I think Holly could afford to ease up a bit. Whenever I accuse her of having her panties in a bunch, she says I would know about that sort of thing.

Her frequent jabs at my sexual preference get under my skin like nothing else. I get enough of that crap at school. To have to hear it in my own home is disheartening. Besides that pain in the neck, I have a decent relationship with my family. Even so, living in a house full of women has its repercussions. Being yelled at for no apparent reason. Or having a sister break down in tears after receiving a snide remark from yours truly.

PMS. Mother Nature's fiendish whore.

Nonetheless, there's also the occasional benefactor. The majority of the time we're stocked up on sweets...or more namely chocolate. And having your older sis bring home her hot friends doesn't hurt matters either.

God bless the miniskirt.

I suppose you could consider my precocious emotional understanding of the fairer sex as well. That would really come in handy if there was a girl outside my family that was worth dealing with–emotionally. Donyelle, my best friend, doesn't count. Good Lord, even my best friend is a female. Maybe Holly is right about, no! Not possible. She once believed she possessed the ability to fly. That was a fun day.

Maybe I just need more guys in my life. Beside Grandpa Joe, of course. He's good people, but I can't talk to him about Evan Rachel Wood. According to him, the only hot blonde that ever graced this earth was Marilyn Monroe.

By the way, I'm Levi. Yes, just like the jeans. I hated my name until I met Reginald in 8th grade. Not so bad, right? His full name is Reginald Regineld. But we occasionally refer to him as 'Ditto'. Four years later and it still gets me. So. This is my life. And I'm drowning in estrogen. Will someone help me?