Nasty
It's annoying that whenever my sister is here, the most common thing I say will be,
"Go away. I'm trying to read. You belong in the dumpster" or something. But when she's away (at a piano lesson, a piano contest...), I am un-expressably bored.
Then, of course, when she's back and we've got over all the fuss of saying, "Are you alright? How did you do?" blah blah blah, she just begins skulking in the shady, neat little corner of the house we call her room and I hobble off to write or read.
It's like cold and hot--when you're hot, the only thing you want is a darn New York blast of icy wind--when you're actually in New York, you want an L.A. summer.
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