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So.
I started my livejournal back in 2001. I was turning 17 and starting my senior year of high school. Some of you have been reading my blatherings when they were still on a blog (hosted on Geocities and then on Tripod) (REMEMBER TRIPOD?) and have known me since I was like 15. And I have talked about my family a lot, because even through fights and depression and ridiculousness I have always been very close to them, and I have talked a lot about my sister.
She's seven years younger than I am; I have very vivid memories around her birth and her babyhood and childhood. I changed a few of her diapers. I brought her to second grade for show and tell. I left for college when she was eleven and just starting fifth grade (she has a fall birthday and our district cuts off at September 1st.) One of the few great things about moving back in with my parents after grad school was getting to know her as a young adult, as she learned to drive and snuck out with her friends and got in trouble and formed opinions and became an actual person. I got to introduce her to fat acceptance, give her books about feminism, talk to her about how to handle tricky situations with her friends, take her to see Disney movies even as we both got ostensibly too old to go see them.
This weekend, I went back to our hometown to see her graduate from Smith College. She is a bright and talented and stubborn woman and she still has the huge brown eyes and heart-shaped face she did as a weester, and she is all grown up, and I am so goddamned proud of her I could burst.
Congratulations, stinkybutt. I couldn't be more proud of you, or more proud to be your sister.
(And then we went back to her dorm room and she and my brother and I did tequila shots. Sibling bonding, y'all.)
I started my livejournal back in 2001. I was turning 17 and starting my senior year of high school. Some of you have been reading my blatherings when they were still on a blog (hosted on Geocities and then on Tripod) (REMEMBER TRIPOD?) and have known me since I was like 15. And I have talked about my family a lot, because even through fights and depression and ridiculousness I have always been very close to them, and I have talked a lot about my sister.
She's seven years younger than I am; I have very vivid memories around her birth and her babyhood and childhood. I changed a few of her diapers. I brought her to second grade for show and tell. I left for college when she was eleven and just starting fifth grade (she has a fall birthday and our district cuts off at September 1st.) One of the few great things about moving back in with my parents after grad school was getting to know her as a young adult, as she learned to drive and snuck out with her friends and got in trouble and formed opinions and became an actual person. I got to introduce her to fat acceptance, give her books about feminism, talk to her about how to handle tricky situations with her friends, take her to see Disney movies even as we both got ostensibly too old to go see them.
This weekend, I went back to our hometown to see her graduate from Smith College. She is a bright and talented and stubborn woman and she still has the huge brown eyes and heart-shaped face she did as a weester, and she is all grown up, and I am so goddamned proud of her I could burst.
Congratulations, stinkybutt. I couldn't be more proud of you, or more proud to be your sister.
(And then we went back to her dorm room and she and my brother and I did tequila shots. Sibling bonding, y'all.)