Sisterhood

I've been happily playing big sister to my friend's younger sister, also an N, in the past few weeks.

She has been sharing my room and I'm glad to report that she keeps to her side of my four-post bed, in spite of her restless leg syndrome (the poor girl never gets a good night's rest).

We've been sharing quite a bit of stuff lately (she has been "living precariously" through my life, as she said). We went to Dali's art exhibition together, to the beach together, to the movies together, to the clubs together, to my dates together, to my work engagements together, did almost everything together. I thought, ah, this is what I've been missing out by not having a sister.

The other day, when I was feeling a tad moody from being maxed out at work, she surprised me with a lovely cake. Oh, how not to gush over her! That brief episode left my brother feeling, well, a little left out, as he shuffled to his room and holed up himself in there for the rest of the day.

I suppose it's just different having a brother... or is it? I can't talk about girly stuffs to him, but surely there are many things under the sun we can chat about? Are there really gender differences that govern the relationship between brother and sister?

N has shed a different light though:

N: "Your brother thinks you're fierce."

E: "Me, fierce?"

N: "Yes, you come across as the no-nonsense type, although you're one of the gentlest souls I've ever known."

Ah, such things she say. Makes me want to kidnap her.

But there's truth in what she said. I do give my brother a harder time than I give her, considering she'll be here only for a while until she goes home to New Mexico, where she has been living for half a decade.

So, for now, I'm just going to enjoy her company, and be thankful that at the very least, I got a taste of sisterhood. And perhaps learn to be my brother's sister.

Pic: Pablo Picasso circa 1921

Attention

That caught your attention, didn't it? Chuckles.

That's what I've been getting a lot lately. And that's why I've lagged in posting an entry here!

It has been a crazy few weeks here - with my best friend, N, dropping by unexpectedly (all the way from Houston!) last weekend. Along with her, she brought her little sister (okay, not so little anymore, now that she's 19!) and her new beau (an okay Norwegian guy). Plus my other best friend, S, I've been split in so many directions!

S has been acting up, because (I know this for a fact, not her best friend for nothing) she feels left out in all the frenzied excitement (even though I tried my darnest to include her in our plans). But the storm is blowing over - N has left and I've agreed to go to a Westlife concert (which I clearly won't enjoy) with S tomorrow.

Boy, what a fabulous weekend I've had! N, who has made good, has shared some of that with me. Stayed at the Marriott, did the whole fine dining, spa and clubbing thing. Even allowed myself to splurge on a $300+ Kate Spade bag! Felt like a little rich girl and was even treated like one. And I'm not just talking about the doorman.

I met two guys, who are as different as, oh well, Elijah Wood and Owen Wilson (mind you, I've not dated for a whole year after that bad break-up last year and suddenly in one weekend, I bagged not one, but two suitors). Elijah, let's call him that, owns a car company (and has been shuttling me in different vintage cars, which he swore is his) and Owen is an engineer by day and deejay by night. They've got brains, that's for sure (otherwise, I won't be interested).

I just came back from a date with Elijah (he has been so sweet, he had even bought me a rose). He took me to this al fresco eatery just next to a Thai kickboxing ring somewhere off the beaten track. Although there was no sparring going on, it certainly made for an interesting ambience! Then, he sent me home (right to my doorstep) and called me "princess" (haha, how's that for an ego booster). Then, Owen called me, wanting to take me on a trip (presumably, all expenses paid?) to Kuala Lumpur, Malaysia over this weekend (which I'm still undecided). He's been calling, asking me to hang out with him (at his club, I'm treated like a princess) and even talking about kids and the L word!

Man, are these guys for real? (FYI, they know I'm not rich). But you know what, I really don't care. Why? Because after having been treated shabbily by my past boyfriends, I believe I deserve some tender loving care.

It's about time.