I can say now with 100% certainty that the greatest gift our parents ever gave us was each other, but this wasn’t always my first thought about my sister. Like most sisters we had a love / hate relationship growing up.
This was no less apparent than the number of times we decided to share a bedroom and then got mad at one another and separated. Besides the master bedroom, our house had one bedroom upstairs and one in the basement. We’d both move up and then something would happen and I’d “move out” / downstairs. Then we’d miss each other and she’d move down. Then there was tape on the floor separating a single bedroom – a line not to be crossed, which always was – so she’d move back upstairs. And so it went for all the years we were growing up.
We spent hours making up games that we’d play together and then she wore my favorite white shirt, washed it with new Levis causing it to turn baby blue, put it back in my closet like I wouldn’t notice and we were at war once again over an unforgiveable act! She gave my Barbie a mohawk, spent money mom gave her to buy me a Christmas gift on herself instead, and made me listen to a Smurf record album every night before bed that I desperately want to forget the lyrics to, but can’t. Just ask me when you see me next. I sat on her regularly, punched her in the nose once and then cried, blamed some things I broke on her and my parents believed me, and I made sure to tell mom when she said anything that deserved gagging on a bar of soap.
We were, and are still, opposite in so many ways. She’s a good dancer; I’ve got two left feet. I like lists and processes; she shows up for events on the wrong date yet she’s always 10 minutes early and I’m 10 minutes late. Go figure. I’m a math and science nerd and she’s an amazing artist. I’ve only ever gotten one speeding ticket and been in two fender benders, but if you asked her, she’d likely need hands and feet to count her auto mishaps. She’s a budget fashionista who curates unique pieces that give her rock star flair without being pretentious or overdone and I’ll wear a plain tee and jeans every day of the week if I can. She hates my cardigans and I don’t blame her.
Despite all these differences, there’s no girlfriend who knows me better or loves me more. She’s my best friend, my therapist (with blackmail privileges), my defender, and co-conspirator. Thanks to her I laugh a little harder, cry a little less and smile a whole lot more. We dislike all the same people. She’s the first girlfriend I call with bad news, but also with good news. We still disagree and she still borrows my clothes (because she never brings a coat anywhere she goes, despite always being cold), but we both understand that anything said or done comes from a place of unconditional love…of desperately wanting the other to succeed.
For all these reasons and more, we make time for one another and when we can get together, we do.
The pictures below are from time together in Vegas.
For the first time, I witnessed her in her element – at work, photographing a family reunion. She was fantastic and even if she weren’t my bestie, if you’re looking for a great photographer for any event, hire her. She’s not only fun to work with, but she’ll do a professional job that will make you look amazing!
Given her driving record, its no surprise that she kicked butt at the Speed Vegas Go-Kart course. I came in dead last. She even beat her boyfriend. She has experience and is not afraid to crash into things!
They also do off-road driving here and you can pay for either a professional driver to drive you around in a supercar or to provide instruction as you drive a supercar. This professional driver in the police car was enjoying his job of giving rides!
The Sphere in Vegas is still a little pricey, but the experience is pretty cool. We saw “Postcards From the Edge” and just loved it. The 360-degree views are not apparent from my video so you’ll just have to go and experience it for yourself.
Sis, as always, thanks for the memories. Never forget that I’d give you a kidney if you needed it, but no, you can’t borrow my phone charger! Get your own.
