My sister came to stay last week, which to be honest I think most people were quite relieved about.
I may have mentioned her impending stay several times, as well as announcing suddenly and excitedly during meals “Maria’s coming to stay soon!” causing my flatmates to spill hot soup down themselves.
Also, I’ve been told (by her, who else?) that she’s owed a post on this blog. I pointed out, quite reasonably I thought, that since this is a post about university and she’s not at uni, it’s a tricky thing to slip in.
On arrival to my flat, she promptly locked me out of my room, cackling and eating all of my Jaffa Cakes until I agreed to write one. So here we go, crazy sibling, eat your heart out.
There were several things I wanted to do when Maria arrived. I had even compiled a list (in my head, guys, just in my head). But unfortunately we didn’t get get round to all of them.
Some of this was due to the number of other exciting things we did. It was also due to sleeping in past lunchtime due to exhaustion from doing such exciting things. It is what some would call a ‘vicious circle.’
For example, we never did get round to: 5) Take her to the Arts Tower which has the largest Paternoster lifts in the world and try not to get trapped/squashed/broken whilst in it.
Here is what you should know about Maria:
She is very tall. At 5″10 I am considered tall, but she is taller than me and still growing. She loves it, especially now she can call me “the leprechaun” which my dad and her so wittily came up with.
She is undeniably gorgeous and has excellent hair.
She is a bit of a crazy person and very funny, which my mum admitted the other day, “Makes it hard to tell her off when you’re laughing too much.”
She is a talented artist and during her stay managed to work black acrylic paint into my carpet. Her excuse was, “I couldn’t help it, it was on my socks.”
Most importantly, I have desperately missed her and was thrilled that she came to stay. I bought her an air mattress and everything. That’s true love right there.
She settled in extremely quickly which seemed to freak her out a bit. She kept saying, “It’s like I shouldn’t be here, but I am and it feels right, but at the same time it doesn’t, do you know what I mean?”
My friends warmed to her immediately. I suspect this is down to a mutual fondness for teasing me, particularly, “So she’s older than you, right? Which uni have you come from? Haha, leprechaun! What a great name!” Which was simply HILARIOUS.
Our first night out was at a flat party in my block. It was the Saturday before Halloween so we gave all our stinginess would allow and ripped up charity shop shirts and smeared fake blood on each other.
In typical student fashion, we managed to find the most exciting thing that’s possible to do in a tiny flat and invaded the attic, where we undoubtedly got asbestos inhalation but had a rocking time all the same.
It was quite strange having her to stay, as I think of university and home as completely paradoxical worlds. I suppose I was worried she might have changed or I might have and we wouldn’t get on as well. Six weeks is a long time you know. Personalities can alter a lot in that time. Yes, they can.
Thankfully, neither of us had drastically changed. Maria’s hair was still brown, not pink and I hadn’t got a tattoo or a lip piercing. Turns out we meshed just as well as we used to.
We did argue a bit, that’s only natural. I obviously blame Maria for this, particularly the one night she came into my bedroom wailing and prostrating herself on my floor.
She cried, “I just can’t do it!”
“I can’t cook fishcakes! How am I supposed to know if they are hot enough?!”
“Do they steam when you cut them open?”
“I don’t know… I’m not a chef”
“You’re just re-heating, not making them!”
“I can’t do it, it’s too hard… bfwoshnedgebedjee…”Her speech became unrecognisable as she pressed her face into the floor.
I like to think of this as Irritating-Youngest-Child-Syndrome. But most of the time we got on fine.
During the week we went to our favourite Indie club and danced to Arctic Monkeys and The Cure until one of our friends slipped spectacularly on the dance floor. It was one of those happy, happy moments where you are laughing far too much to help them up. We went back the next day for second helpings.
Nearing the end of the week, Maria became slightly, how to put this, grumpy. I asked her what was wrong and she wailed, “I’m leaving in a day!”
I was unsuccessfully trying to forget about it. It was nice having a bit of home at University.
So we have plans for her to come and stay after Christmas. She’s under strict instructions to bring more Jaffa Cakes and Harry Potter DVDS. Ooh, and some Vanish for my carpet.
I can’t wait.
Images courtesy of Google This is a Paternoster lift. No, you’re right, it’s not as cool as I thought.