strummin' sisters

Well what should i write my first blog about? I ask myself. Look around. What do I see? A house full of love, music, memories. I've lived here all my life. I don't know if I would fit anywhere else.
I don't what I would do if I didn't have this house, my room, the family room, the kitchen, and my family to come home to after I have a bad day at school or something.

Mostly its the people in my house that make me feel better. One in particular. I love my sister. I think that she is the only one who really understands me, and knows the things I wouldn't want anyone else to know about. I trust her. You could say she is my hero, but I don't think that would fit because she is so much more.

Of course sometimes we don't get along, but that doesn't last for long because neither of us can stay mad at eachother for long enough for an argument to amount to anything. One of my favorite things about her is her love for music. Her raido never quits. As I am laying in bed I can hear her quietly strummin on her guitar, but I don't mind. I admire her for her determination to learn to play, even when she didn't have a teacher. I promise you its harder than it looks. She has given a huge effort to teach me, but when I strum... I think she has magic in her fingers.

I think that we might never be seperated. When we were little we would pretend to be twins, and belive me even though we don't look alike, we had people fooled. I will always have her in me. Most of the memories I think of when I take a moment to flashback have her in them and I hope to keep it that way.