Pictures of you.

Last night, as I was "cleaning" my room, I flipped through a few of my sister's photo albums. When I was examining her senior portraits, I came to the startling realization that I had forgotten what she looked like. Of course I remembered a general shape and all, but the more detailed things I had forgotten. How big her cheeks are, her big ol' chin, etc, etc. We have pictures of her up in the house, but these pictures, her pictures, she looked different in. My excuse? Well I haven't seen her in a year and a half. I'll certainly recognize her when she comes home for Christmas, but it just shook me up a little bit. I'm sure she probably will have a similar reaction to seeing me. I've... changed. A lot. Maybe it's just the way I see myself, or the way I dress (even though most of my clothes have been hanging in my closet for two or three years), or because I want to be different than I am and I haven't really changed. I dunno. I rant sometimes. I'll just have to wait for December 17. The day of truth and when I'll see what my sister really looks like.

I hate that I still love you.

"Still."
Like I ever stopped.

We are so similar. We both thought Miracle at St. Anna would be an incredible movie and were equally disappointed. We save movie stubs. We are enthralled by the stars behind his house. We simultaneously let go of each others' hands at the precise moment at the end of the movie when the lights started to come back up. We suck equally at Rock Band. We duke it out through Super Smash Bros. on Travis' Wii. When we were wandering around in Best Buy looking at movies, you said you heard that Casablanca was overrated. I agreed. Musically, we agree on the dominance of U2, The Killers, Coldplay, and I daresay other bands too. We both want MacBooks and are true to our friends. We hate being used and double-crossed. I think I could talk to you all day or never talk to you again.