Stupid Sister.

If I ever become a professional writer, my sister, without a doubt will be my biggest competitor. This girl is a genius when it comes to writing. Which is pretty funny because in every other aspect, she's pretty stupid! Just kidding. She's actually a rock star in everything she pursues. Did I tell you that my sister placed third in her grade of 100 students in science fair? Yeah, I know. She's obnoxiously brilliant at anything. It's like she's magic or something. Imagine growing up with THAT. The smart, beautiful, curly haired, talented, artistic, scientific, creative, goofy, relatable, social, entertaining, willing, experienced, and loved Sarita. It's impossible to ever outdo her.

Stupid sister.

Basically... I'm Yoda.

So last year, I was an unofficial coach for my brother's baseball team. I helped warm the boys up, played catch with them, and taught them the mechanics of batting. But not this year my friend. No. This year, I am an official registered coach for Minor Division boys baseball. Oh yeah. I'm certified. With an automated email to prove it!

So now, Sam may no longer refer to me as his sister, or even call me Lucy. No. He must call me COACH Lucy. Yeah. I went there. I'm basically Yoda, and he's like my young padawon... or however you spell it. I'm totally going to make him run laps around the house at like six in the morning.

Actually, no I'm not. See apparently, even if you decide to coach your little brother, he doesn't really listen to you. So when I woke him up at six to run some laps, he just pushed me out of his room and told me,"Dude. It's six in the morning on a Saturday. Go to sleep you dork." SO... I suggest to all older sisters planning on coaching their little brothers or sisters, only so they can make them do ridiculous things NOT TO DO IT, because I have learned that they really don't care if you have an official email. You're still just the annoying big sister.

BUT IN ANY CASE- I am totally Yoda... except not green...

Right Daddy...?

The things my father makes me do. This could be a very interesting story. Care to take a listen??

I shouldn't really say that my father makes me do these things. The truth is, I volunteer to do these things. Except sometimes, I don't really know what I'm getting myself into...

I'm a mathematical person. Just like my daddy. So construction and measurements and fixing things is kind of what we do best. My brother Sammy was always the assistant in all of my dad's experiments, until he wasn't there one day. Sam was out at a friend's house and my dad needed some help on the Jeep, (a project he'd been working on for years. No worries. He finally fixed it!) and I was the only person in the house who was done with all my work for the day. So I went outside, and chatted with my daddy, handed him tools, grabbed things that only my small hands could reach... We had a pretty nice time.

Since then, we've been doing more and more projects together. I built a 'vine holder' with him this summer. Basically, it's a bunch of planks of wood attached from my garage to my house that hold up the vine we have growing on the wall. This upcoming summer, we will install a lighting system and having hanging pots to form a small garden seating area. Should look beautiful! We've also cleaned out his garage, which is no longer the dungeon of despair. You can actually put a car in there! We've made a counter in the office and a cabinet above it to hold supplies. I've helped build a bench/swing, and we finished fixing the car.

I love my Pappi so much. He's the best. No other way to put it. And so now I will start my homework... Because I'm a good child... Also his favorite child... Right Daddy...?

Math

Thank goodness for calculators.

Math

Thank goodness for calculators.

High School Is a Stressful Thing.

I'm not even a freshman yet. And high school already drives me insane. I'm only applying, and I still feel like I'm going to rip my hair out.

I'm in that whole 'interviews, applications, testing' faze of the process. Let me tell you- it's not as easy as it looks. There are a lot of pieces to put together when applying. At least in Chicago.

Best Friends

There's a lot that you learn from losing your best friend. There's a lot to be said about never seeing them again. And there's a lot to feel about missing an important person in your life.

I'm going into high school next year, and my best friend and I had this master plan that we were going to go to the same high school and be best friends forever. Nothing was going to separate us. Until his family moved out of state.

Now I'm left here without my best friend to talk to, to sit with at lunch, to gossip with, to laugh with. To share pizza with every Friday. Every single Friday. Without fail.

He's doing great. He has friends and is on the basketball team at his new school. He'll be successful wherever he goes. And I know that one day I will have to be a big girl and go to high school without him in my class. I will have to graduate without him, walk home without him, eat pizza without him... But in the end, best friends are best friends. And he will always be mine. I will always be his.

So it doesn't matter. If he's here on Friday or not, he'll always be my dorky BFF. And I'll always be his science fair winning nerd. Forever and always.