At home with family

My sister now lives in NYC. Have I told you that? Well she was here for the summer, went back to Texas to walk across a stage, shake a man's hand, smile for a picture and get her Master's Degree. Now she's back, for good; well, however long we are all here for. However long we can make it...

This city is insane, exhausting, and quite often I feel like the rest of the nation- or world for that matter-looks at us and thinks, "those idiots" or "those poor pitiful people, all stacked up on top of one another..." Just read (**language alert!**) this to fully understand. It's all true, but luckily I can laugh out loud at it.

So, she's here with me, stealing my jeans, borrowing my yoga mat, sleeping on my couch on the weekends and threatening to take my favorite Kenneth Cole black slacks. She's sneaky like that. (I'm still looking for my FREE underwear coupon I received in the mail from Victoria's Secret that has just disappeared...) I'm really happy she is here. And I'm happy that she is family and makes herself at home in our apartment, only because she sometimes cooks for us and leaves half empty bottles of really good wine and goes running with me along the East River. I feel old though- 30 years compared to her 24. I don't even remember being 24 years-old and it wasn't that long ago at all.

While wasting time one evening, in-between Pinkberry and dinner plans, we found ourselves wandering Rockefeller Plaza and St. Patrick's Cathedral. Mys sister had never been inside the church so I urged us in that direction. I love having my camera with me in the city, you never know what or who you might see and the city is SO photo worthy. So, visiting the locations overflowing with tourist, a guy offered to take our picture- of course. So we posed and laughed to ourselves.

It's funny because I doubt I'll ever feel like this is my home. I don't know, maybe I will- but even the concept itself seems so far out there. I can't really wrap my mind around it. This is New York City; it's not comfortable or relaxing or familiar or some place that I want to be- quite often. It's not what a home should be.