Alright, I've received a lot of feedback within the past twenty-four hours on my first blog post. And I must say, you guys rock. I am so thankful for the awesome people in my life that continue to motivate me daily. You know who you are and this is how I know I'm doing something right. It may be the only thing that I'm doing right, but it's something. And I want to say THANK YOU, and beers for everyone that comes to DCH for my birthday on May 17th.
Anyways, enough of that sappy stuff. I've had some wine, I'll admit. It takes like ten Tito's vodka sodas for me to get truly deep and emotional, though, and I've been attempting this Paleo thing as you should know, so you're all good for now. It's only 5PM, I know (I strive daily to be more like an Italian). But my younger sister moved back home from college for the summer to my parents' today, and I helped them move this afternoon, so, my vino is well earned, okay?
That's right. The younger, skinnier, blonder, emotionally-tougher version of me is home for the summer after her first year away. She and I are five years apart so we've always had an awkward relationship. It's okay, I've made up for it with wine, my animals, and Nutella. I'm an old soul; the political, opinionated, nerdy, book-hoarding, pokemon-collecting, world-traveling sibling; she's the small-town, rodeo-attending, shoe-collecting, cowboy-loving, hair-teasing sibling. I say that with love, honestly, but we are truly polar opposites.
Now, the rare times that I moved home from SMU (once you go Dallas, you never go back) the back of my Envoy was packed with political theory/film books I couldn't part with, Container Store organization bins, my red/blue beta fish George W, buckets of class notes, polos and Nike shorts, and my favorite indie DVD's. My sister, on the other hand, had THREE BOXES OF BRAS AND UNDERWEAR. I'm sorry, but are you going to college to prostitute or study? Where are your books? Did you even buy them? Are we even from the same family? Let's go get a DNA test. Jesus.
Also, there was one point in the day where I was driving, sister's in the passenger seat, mom's in the back, and I'm trying to blare the radio (JoDee Messina was on, I'm all about the 80's/90's country, all the time) while they talked about one of her (many) past relationships; I'm thinking to myself, dear God, how did I end up in this situation? Why aren't we talking about the Lewinsky anniversary? Why am I not making them do improv exercises to open up and learn to listen better? I DO NOT WANT TO HEAR ABOUT MY SISTER'S SEXSCAPADES. Yes, that's a word that is used in 2014 and I'm going with it.
Needless to say, it was an interesting day. I stopped bitching after fifteen minutes because like me, my sister doesn't listen to negativity for longer than, well, fifteen minutes or so. And she also shares my sense of humor, which is all that really matters, right? Sylvia** (names have been changed to protect the innocent; Sylvia was the suggestion by my mother) may be more interested in boys, marriage, and makeup products than I ever will be but, at the end of the day, we're strong-headed b*tches and will tell each other to stop when it's time. My mom was also there acting as mediator (as per usual) so no Mean Girls-esque cat fights broke out. So that was good. I remember those days when you're young, emotional and dumb, (oh wait that's me still at 24), so I wasn't too hard on the girl. I do thank God I'm not nineteen anymore, though.
In conclusion, I'm gonna abruptly end/wrap this post up with this... a picture of my sister and I when we first knew it was going to be a long lifetime. Also, if it's been a long day, or you have a college-aged sibling, have some wine. Wine helps with everything.*
*denotes that wine does not help when it comes to ex-lovers.