And just like that, #summerofsisters is over. She arrived in London this morning, triumphant that they served her wine with dinner (well, it is British Airways and it is legal there), and I won’t see her again ‘til Thanksgiving. Yesterday, Zoe and I saw her off with an America, fuck yeah kind of meal: cheeseburger spring rolls, lobster and bacon sliders, and Korean beef and spinach salad (thanks, Dad).
This summer was more than I could have ever hoped for.
I mean, we didn’t even fight ONCE.
If you have a sister, you know what kind of a feat that is.
…ok, ok, that wasn’t entirely accurate.
We got in one fight on Friday, the product, I’m sure, of departure-and-packing-induced stress and one innocent but ill-advised comment I made about her hair. (Again, if you have a sister, you are feeling every word I’m saying. The first rule of Sister Club is we do not talk about each other’s hair.)
I may be left with a wounded foot (told ya that was a wild night), but das Boot will be off in, fingers crossed, two weeks, and these memories will last forever:
Happy hour at Mermaid Inn like every other day
Starlit picnic on a Brooklyn rooftop
Taking the A train to Coney Island (nope, try again)
Celebrating Katie’s baby, Andrea’s bachelorette, and Chelsea’s engagement
Chilling all day errday with Zoe and Wilkes, who will miss her as much as I will
Dinners on the terrace, lunches at Lafayette, bloody marys at Saxon, frozen margaritas at Mary Ann’s, late-night cocktails at ECC….
Picking out the same necklaces and same entrees over and over again, 'cause you know what? We’re sisters
Feeling a little annoyed at how much better she looks in my clothes
Pretending to be 24 again at PS1 Warm-Up
Getting to know her friends and their bottle service antics
(Related: feeling old and being ok with that)
And most of all, getting to know her all over again, as a grown-up (almost), as a friend, as the best sister in the whole damn world.
I love ya, Gena. Let’s do it again next summer.