First let me say that I've been awake since one a.m. I woke first to the lovely sound of my neighbor's motorcycle, then soon after, the sound of rain kept me awake. And then my brain realized we were awake, and giddly began clapping its little neurotransmitters. "We're awake, people!" It cried. "Get Thinking!" So we did. And we didn't stop. At two a.m. we arose and made a list of story ideas. By 4 a.m. we got out of bed.

And here my brain and I are, bleary-eyed despite coffee, staring at the blog screen.

I actually came here to write what might seem somewhat, indirectly, contrary to yesterday's post. I came here to say how cool it is that I have siblings, for you see, I was an only child until nearly 15 years old. And at that, my sister (14) and my brother (16), are half-sibs, which means nothing to me. They feel like family, though they were mere babes when i was a late teenager, readying to leave for college. (photo failed to upload; i'll try again later).

Still, when I'm exchanging emails with my smart, pragmatic (and gorgeous!) sister about an essay she's writing for school, or cracking jokes with my sweet, insightful brother, I get this little glowing feeling inside me, like "these are my people!" They're the only family members I have who don't come pre-loaded with a bunch of bullshit I have to work on. I don't have issues with them. I love them as they are. They'll always be much younger than me, so I will always get to look on with a proud, loving eye. I feel about them as i imagine I might for a child. I'd do anything for them. If they were in trouble, I'd be there. If they needed to stay somewhere, they could come to me. I'm lucky.