Big sister/Little sister

"Are you ready to go?" my sister asked me. I was on the computer collecting the stats on the Red Shoe House website and talking to Mike about house stuff. My hair was pushed back with a stretchy headband and I was wearing my white-ish polar fleece Gap hoodie with some mysterious and random dirt on it. No, I was not ready to go.

I checked the clock, it was 7:46 and Tracy told me to be ready to leave at 7:45. "Sorry! I lost track of time!" I apologized and quickly said goodbye to Mikey.

I could feel her rolling her eyes. "Are you going with your hair like that?"

I pulled the headband off and felt the top of my head for rogue locks. I attempted to pat everything down and put it in place. Thank God I have a hair appointment on Tuesday. "I better wear my hat," I told her as I followed her upstairs.

I grabbed my jacket and quickly searched the usual places for my pink cap--no luck.

We were going to the airport to pick my aunt up. Tracy was driving but we took my mom's car because it would be easier to load the luggage into than the Sunfire.

I got in the passenger side and pulled down the vanity mirror.

"I look like a bird," I laughed, as this seemed the most appropriate description for the plume of blonde hair feathering out of the top of my head.

"I told you to be ready," Tracy chided me.

"I know."

The airport was busy when we arrived. "Spring break," Tracy said. I noticed that the people walking around were either tanned or carrying ski bags. I wished I was one of them.

We didn't know where to stand and not get in the way. It didn't matter though as 10 minutes later the place was pretty much empty. There was a lot of unclaimed luggage hanging around. Tracy said it was probably sent to the wrong place--another symptom of the end of spring break.

"Somebody lost a boot," Tracy pointed out the lonely sole without its mate going around the conveyor belt. I took out my camera and took a picture.

"Jillian! What are you doing?"

"Taking a picture of the boot," I said. My family uses my full name when they are exasperated with me, which happens a fair bit. I used to imagine that when I started working in the real world I would only go by my full name. I had visions of the Jillian B@rr0tt name plate on the door to my corner office with floor to ceiling windows. I would have a fabulously posh job and a fabulously posh fiance named Avrey and only he and a few close friends would affectionately call me Jil (yes, I think there could be only one "l"). At a corporate function or charity event Avery would say things like, "I'm taking Jil to Naples in September, she's never seen the fall foliage". I would be charming and graceful and life would be lovely.

"Jill, stop it," my sister instructed. "That's weird. People are probably wondering what you're doing taking pictures of them. I know I'd feel weirded out."

I put the camera down. I actually wanted to take a picture of her too but if she saw that she'd probably strangle me with her pashmina scarf. She looked like she was ready to jet off to Paris. She was wearing her white patent leather kitten heels (that I picked out for her and made her buy), dark wash skinny jeans and a black wool coat. I on the other hand was wearing my very worn and tired brown hikers (I'm ashamed to admit, they are probably my favourite pair of shoes and I cannot bear to part with them), faded soft blue jeans with tattered cuffs (I can't believe I want to pay $80 American for a pair of Abercrombies with the same look), and my black windbreaker/green vest combo. You already vaguely know what my hair looked like. I was also sans makeup because I like to let my face breathe when I can on the weekends.

My sister graduates this summer. She already has her job lined up in the Children's hospital which will pay to start more than I make after two raises at one of the city's largest companies. She smiles when she says it, but she keeps telling us she's going to find a rich doctor to marry. She doesn't have the easily abbreviated name, but she will likely have the lifestyle I used to dream about. She definitely deserves it; she's my little sister, she deserves the world.

Our days left together in the same house are numbered. I guess I just realized that. I have a lot of catching up to do.