Trust me, I'm Pocahontas.

I've been home for almost twenty-four hours now, and things are already falling comfortably into place. I hadn't been back long before leaving my mark on the piano and the Mix Master. But above all, I was excited to spend Sunday evening with my family in our traditional way. I was getting antsy waiting for my sister Britny to arrive so we could catch up. Whenever I visit home, we like to spend a lot of time together, reminiscing, updating each other, and laughing at each other.

In terms of Disney princess comparisons, Britny is the hot one with the fiery attitude (you know, the Jasmine/Pocahontas type), and I'm the one singing songs to myself and sweeping floors (Eat your heart out, Cinderella) or walking around with my nose in a book, Belle-style. I was always a little jealous. But then again, we never were the Princesses-and-Barbies-type of sisters anyway. When we were young, we could usually be found stealing the neighbors' flowers and using them to cook up leafy "potions" in an upturned Frisbee, or else we were keeping mom and dad up at night with the racket of "Fat Santa" (The rules were simple and few: wear one of dad's T-shirts, stuff said T-shirt with as many fluffy pillows and stuffed animals as possible, run full-speed at each other whilst yelling "Fat Santa!", and collapse into a mess of fluffy-stuffs in the middle of the bedroom floor. Repeat.).
We were sophisticated children.
I should probably mention that my dad isn't fat, he just has a lot of T-shirts. Regardless, you will be relieved to know that Britny and I no longer play "Fat Santa", and we now maintain the highest respect for the neighbors' azaleas.

After we were about 9 and 7, respectively, my sister and I didn't do a lot of sisterly things together until our twenties. We grew up to be very different people and didn't have a lot in common for a good ten years or so. People would see us together as kids and never guess that we were sisters. (We are equal parts Indian and Norwegian, but she took all of the Pocahontas-looking genes, and I look thoroughly European). Britny was a committed and gifted musician, and I was busy with hockey and dance. By the time we were both old enough to be at the same social events, Britny had a boyfriend (hello, brother-in-law three years later) and few things could persuade me from a good walk or an interesting read. In a few short years, Britny was off to school, she and Luke were married not long after, and then it was my turn to leave the house. Now that Britny is married and I'm a college bum, we rarely get to see each other. But we get along quite well when time and circumstance allow for a reunion. Britny makes me laugh with her quick wit and sarcasm, and I entertain her by dancing around like a fool and trying to convince her that there are 100 delicious ways to prepare a zucchini. Trust me, it's true. I know a lot about earthy, good-for-you, plant stuff. I may not look the part, but I'm totally Pocahontas.

Britny and I spent the day doing what we do best together: sharing music, stupid dance-moves, stories, recipes, and everything else. I wouldn't have my day any other way.