Friday, August 31, 2012

Moving the Sisarone! (sis-ə-raʊn)

My sister and I are the same person. Anyone you ask will tell you that. We think the same, act the same, love the same things, look the same. When strangers ask us if we're twins and we say no, they are baffled. They're even more surprised when they find out that we're five years apart and I'm older.

Her in the green, me in the tan.

As I've said before, my family is very close. We are rarely apart from each other, so when we had to move my sister to Chicago for her freshman year of college this week, I got a little nervous. I stayed in town for college, 11.7 miles away from my parents house, and I was a wreck. My roommate at the time, and now close friend The Accidental Optimist, often relives that night with me. I was sad, but when the two of us started talking and realized how much we had in common everything sad went away. I vividly remember waking up the next morning, and the first words that popped into my head were "I survived".

Even though my sister and I are almost the same person, there is one thing that really separates us. I need attention. I admit it wholeheartedly. When I was a kid, I always needed people to play with, but my sister was always content with playing alone in her room. She was much more independent than I was. She still is. This was the small comfort that I had in moving her to Chicago. I knew that if anyone in the family could move so far away, it was her. Lord knows it could never be me. I'd be hitchhiking home within an hour.

We all cried when it was time for my mom, dad, and I to leave. I forgot to mention that I'm the sap in the family. I cry over everything. I'm crying right now writing this. I cried for an hour and a half after we left. I just kept thinking about her waking up in the morning and knowing that we were so far away, and we couldn't help her if she needed it. Deep down though, I knew she'd be fine. I think I was just picturing how scared I would be if it were me. Turns out, she had the same night I did my first year of college. She stayed up late talking with her roommates, and they all love each other. Once I heard that she was okay, that she survived her first night, I was fine. She's been super busy finding her way to all of her classes and making new friends that she barely has time to remember that she misses us :]

Here's some pictures from our trip:

The night before.

The Umbrella Corporation in my tooth paste.

A terrifying mantis that just waddle it's way down our windshield.


This is the box they give you to unpack.

We actually got her life unpacked in two trips.

Oh instagram.

The key works!

Probably the best part of the whole apartment.

It's apartment style living so she gets a kitchen, living room, and two bathrooms.

And a flat screen TV...

No lights in her room.

I got her a bunch of prints of her favorite Miyazaki movies.

New computer.

This is where we left her. Amongst her own kind.

Her dorm!

1 comment:

  1. Ahh yes. That was a good night. I'm pretty sure most of our freshman year was spent staying up waaay too late and talking. Or watching movies. Or power cleaning. Ha. I love you, lady!