My big sister

When I finally arrived at Milledge Avenue in the college town of Athens, my sister Kelly made me close my eyes, then threw open the door of her new apartment and gave me the Grand Tour of all two rooms. It was tiny, but charming. It had high ceilings, brightly painted walls, and lots of artwork (half of it her own). Kelly has a little black kitten appropriately named Pollux—for the Greek god of mischief and mayhem. I’m convinced that he has a split personality. He has his endearing, cuddly moments, but the rest of the time he is liquid energy. He could spend hours chasing his toy mouse or an earring that he knocked off the bathroom sink.
Needless to say, Kelly and I had some girl-bonding time during the weekend. We did our nails, watched old episodes of Alias, and talked. When I told her I had gotten a blog, she started laughing and asked incredulously, “You’re a blogger?!” At my nod, she demanded that I blog about her without delay. Life goal, I suppose?
Kelly is 5 years older than me. She’s a semester away from graduating from UGA. She got engaged this summer to her boyfriend Tyler, who I already love, and named me her maid of honor. Despite our age gap, we’ve always been close. When we were little, she doubled as playmate and second mommy. She taught me how to back dive and ride a bike. Now that we’re a little older, she’s more of a best friend than a mom. I can’t imagine my family without her, and I don’t really feel like trying.
Well, there you are, Kelly… You have now been blogged about.