Today at Manna, where I am working (gourmet food store. . . togo!), I am playing the Practical Magic soundtrack and there is a song that goes along with the sisters traveling to see each other. It makes me think of the only person who I know as a sister. She is in Vermont right now with her man who she is planning a wedding. Lea Anne and I grew up together and had similar struggles but completely different parents and different lives. She grew up and became a hippie and I am a wannabe. She is in Vermont or now that I think about it she might be in New Hampshire. She is fond of cold places so who knows. She was in New Mexico and Colorado and Ohio before that. I haven't seen her in a couple of years, but I know that she is only a phone call away. She is one of those people who pass in and out of my life but who are always close to me. It doesn't make any difference where we left it, we will pick it up. We used to fight when we were little. Mom and Dad didn't like sending me to her house to spend the night because we would fight the whole time. Strangely we wouldn't want to do anything except spend the night every time we had a chance. We used to stay up until 4 am. That was the thing. I would come home exhausted and be ugly to my family and Dad would swear that I was never going to spend the night out again, and then the next weekend would come along. I can remember hiding in the women's bathroom under the vanity at First Baptist until our parents would let us spend the afternoon together. Turned out that we did spend the afternoon together, but just not at each other's homes. Our parents were in rehearsal and I don't know that they even noticed. That was one of the perqs of being the minister's kid: freedom. She and I would go on a mission trip or weekend together with the youth group at Smoke Rise. We would sign up to room together and all kinds of stuff, by the time we had gotten there, we would swap rooms and be off. We would call each other the Sunday afternoon we got back and talk for hours and left our parents scratching there heads because they swore that we had just spent the whole weekend together, but the reality was that we would get there and split up to separate ways and never see each other. Thus the three hour report on the phone when we returned. She went everywhere with me and always had a different story than I did. I miss her. She is my sister. Maybe it is time for that trip that I so desperately want to take up east coast. Mom and Dad get to do that during their summers, maybe I will soon too.