Thursday, January 5, 2012

Best friends, FOREVER.

Me on the left, my sister on the right.

If we define "forever" here as "so long as one or more of us still has the power of conscious thought."

When my sister was born, I didn't know what I'd gained. My earliest memory is of me as a toddler, scowling petulantly at the nursing infant who had come to monopolize all my parents' time and energy. When she got old enough to be fun, I learned how wonderful it was to have the constant companion and friend who is a sister. That sounds really mushy and reminds me a little of a Precious Moments figurine (ew, gross!), but it's true.

Recently, while somewhat sauced at a party, I started talking about my sister with a boy I'd just met and in whom I had absolutely no romantic interest. He apparently thought it would be a neat game to pretend that he knew my sister, knew her better than I did, in fact. I had faith that he was lying, and I told him so. He said he had met her at a party, and that she did all kinds of things that he assumed I would find horrifying. Not only was I unfazed by these supposed behaviors, I was incensed that he would imply that I didn't know my own sister inside and out.

"No, no, you don't understand," I slurred emphatically. "She's my best friend."

Which was, of course, my polite way of saying, "Bitch, please." I mean, c'mon. Look at this magnificent collage, which is only a very small representation of how many hilarious moments and amazing faces we've had and made together.



Best. Friends.

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