I should be packing.
I'm not.
In around 36 hours I'll be boarding a plane to New Orleans for the first time...to ring in Mardi Gras...with my less-than-cooperative left knee. And I have nothing packed.
I dragged the suitcase out of the balcony closet a good four hours ago.
And here I sit.
I've managed to watch ABC's Wednesday night comedy line-up...talk to a friend or two, surf facebook for way too long, impulsively buy a very expensive camera (still not sure if that was a good idea or not), get into a quarrel of sorts, and thus - here I sit. In a funk. On facebook. And jamming out to various power ballads (sorry neighbors...not my bed time yet).
All this - when I should be packing.
Well, now that it's clear that won't happen, I may as well make up for my sub-par thankfulness post yesterday (thanks for calling me out Porky. I deserved it!).
I've written about everyone in my immediate family, except my sister. And there's a reason for that...we're kind of like oil and vinegar (it's ok, she knows it's true too). But not regular oil and vinegar...more like...the salad dressing you get at Buddy's Pizza on Northwestern Highway (come on Michiganders...help me out here). We start divided...then every now and again we shake things up...become intertwined, and more like the "sisters" you'd expect, but gradually something happens and we drift apart...back to our separate oil and vinegar worlds. Weird parallel? Yeah, kinda. But I think it sums us up nicely.
It's not that we don't love each other...we most certainly do.
It's not that we don't care...again, we certainly do.
It's just that sometimes life intervenes, and history repeats itself.
It's funny, because they say that all little girls are "daddy's girls", and all sisters are supposed to get along, share clothes, do each other's hair and kiss and tell. Well, we did get along (on occasion), I would try on her clothes (and shoes - I seemed to have a thing for her shoes) when she wasn't home (and didn't know about it), she helped shave my legs for the first time (when my brother refused to go to Middle School with me "looking like that"), so I guess that's technically "doing my hair" (hey...we never said it was location-specific), and we did kiss and tell (though she doesn't know it), because I knew where she kept her diary, and knew that it wasn't locked. And once she knew that I knew, I knew where she kept the key (see? I was meant to be an investigative journalist). We were four years apart. She was a varsity athlete in every sport she tried her hand at, and I needed an inhaler to run around the track a time or two. She had her pick of the boys (all of them...all the time), and I...uh...I didn't. She had perfect teeth with only a retainer, and though I didn't share the head-gear misfortune that my cousin did, I did go through about 5 years of extensive orthodontics. She liked science and math...I boycotted AP Bio when I found out you had to chop up a frog. Ok, you catch the drift.
But today...we bridged that gap. Today...we talked on the phone for a good hour, about everything from my jacked-up knee, to my nephew, to her work, to my work, to boys...or maybe just one in particular :) There was even some...(wait for it) GOSSIP in there. YOWZA! And it wasn't painful, I wasn't eyeing up the clock, wasn't wishing I was talking to someone else...it just came (you ready for it?) naturally. Shocking, isn't it? And truth is? I loved it. Every second of it. It was refreshing and it just felt right, and that's exciting.
So, Stacy...let me just say this...and brace yourself, because lord knows when our little oil and vinegar shake-up will sift back into our own entities...
I love you. I think you're beautiful, remarkably intelligent, artistic, a wonderful mother, and you have the biggest pair of cojones of any woman I've ever met. You, my dear sister, have the backbone that I so often lack. You stand up for yourself, make your opinion known, see what you want and go after it. You never let anything stand in your way...of what you love, what you need, what you want, or what you deserve. And that's admirable.
Just know that I love you...even when I don't say it.
And p.s. You're totally worth the extra half hour of procrastination (which is bound to turn into a little stress tomorrow when I realize "Crap! My suitcase is still empty!")
You're my sister. A great sister...
And I'm thankful for that :)
I'm not.
In around 36 hours I'll be boarding a plane to New Orleans for the first time...to ring in Mardi Gras...with my less-than-cooperative left knee. And I have nothing packed.
I dragged the suitcase out of the balcony closet a good four hours ago.
And here I sit.
I've managed to watch ABC's Wednesday night comedy line-up...talk to a friend or two, surf facebook for way too long, impulsively buy a very expensive camera (still not sure if that was a good idea or not), get into a quarrel of sorts, and thus - here I sit. In a funk. On facebook. And jamming out to various power ballads (sorry neighbors...not my bed time yet).
All this - when I should be packing.
Well, now that it's clear that won't happen, I may as well make up for my sub-par thankfulness post yesterday (thanks for calling me out Porky. I deserved it!).
I've written about everyone in my immediate family, except my sister. And there's a reason for that...we're kind of like oil and vinegar (it's ok, she knows it's true too). But not regular oil and vinegar...more like...the salad dressing you get at Buddy's Pizza on Northwestern Highway (come on Michiganders...help me out here). We start divided...then every now and again we shake things up...become intertwined, and more like the "sisters" you'd expect, but gradually something happens and we drift apart...back to our separate oil and vinegar worlds. Weird parallel? Yeah, kinda. But I think it sums us up nicely.
It's not that we don't love each other...we most certainly do.
It's not that we don't care...again, we certainly do.
It's just that sometimes life intervenes, and history repeats itself.
It's funny, because they say that all little girls are "daddy's girls", and all sisters are supposed to get along, share clothes, do each other's hair and kiss and tell. Well, we did get along (on occasion), I would try on her clothes (and shoes - I seemed to have a thing for her shoes) when she wasn't home (and didn't know about it), she helped shave my legs for the first time (when my brother refused to go to Middle School with me "looking like that"), so I guess that's technically "doing my hair" (hey...we never said it was location-specific), and we did kiss and tell (though she doesn't know it), because I knew where she kept her diary, and knew that it wasn't locked. And once she knew that I knew, I knew where she kept the key (see? I was meant to be an investigative journalist). We were four years apart. She was a varsity athlete in every sport she tried her hand at, and I needed an inhaler to run around the track a time or two. She had her pick of the boys (all of them...all the time), and I...uh...I didn't. She had perfect teeth with only a retainer, and though I didn't share the head-gear misfortune that my cousin did, I did go through about 5 years of extensive orthodontics. She liked science and math...I boycotted AP Bio when I found out you had to chop up a frog. Ok, you catch the drift.
But today...we bridged that gap. Today...we talked on the phone for a good hour, about everything from my jacked-up knee, to my nephew, to her work, to my work, to boys...or maybe just one in particular :) There was even some...(wait for it) GOSSIP in there. YOWZA! And it wasn't painful, I wasn't eyeing up the clock, wasn't wishing I was talking to someone else...it just came (you ready for it?) naturally. Shocking, isn't it? And truth is? I loved it. Every second of it. It was refreshing and it just felt right, and that's exciting.
So, Stacy...let me just say this...and brace yourself, because lord knows when our little oil and vinegar shake-up will sift back into our own entities...
I love you. I think you're beautiful, remarkably intelligent, artistic, a wonderful mother, and you have the biggest pair of cojones of any woman I've ever met. You, my dear sister, have the backbone that I so often lack. You stand up for yourself, make your opinion known, see what you want and go after it. You never let anything stand in your way...of what you love, what you need, what you want, or what you deserve. And that's admirable.
Just know that I love you...even when I don't say it.
And p.s. You're totally worth the extra half hour of procrastination (which is bound to turn into a little stress tomorrow when I realize "Crap! My suitcase is still empty!")
You're my sister. A great sister...
And I'm thankful for that :)
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