People ask me questions all the time, everything from Who told you you were funny? to Why are you sleeping on my lawn? This morning, my student worker asked if I planned to dance all the way across the building. I told him it was a long way to hula. So that was an easy one. The trickier questions involve my family and the one I hear most frequently: does that wacky Daria exist?

Yep. Our cousin Monday snuck up on us and snapped this moment for gobsmacked posterity.

Here you see me in a charming ensemble dragged from the back of Daria’s closet describing to Daria how I’d dried my hair upside down for our sister Dara’s eighties-themed sweet sixteen party. Yes, that is my butt. No, you can’t have it. What would I sit on and complain? Sheesh. Daria had just finished explaining that her hair is naturally a giant cloud of Jersey Chick curly hair but that wasn’t retro enough, so she went with a hairband with a streaked coif attached. It’s a nice touch.

Further, that purple balloon behind me was altogether familiar. I slapped it and yelled, “Masher!” which caused Daria to spit her adult beverage.

We don’t finish a lot of drinks.