C.K.

I was a strange kid. Often in my own world. Oblivious to the people and things going on around me. I did my own thing. I wore lots of bright colors and experimented with my outfits. I was shy but not necessarily quiet. Being the youngest I always loved being center stage. I strove to be different from all my siblings. My sisters all played the clarinet, I took up the flute. They quit soccer early on, so I decided to stick with it. They tried out of the dance team, I wanted to be a cheerleader. They went to KU, I went to Arkansas. The list goes on.

As much as I wanted to be different from my sisters, I always admired my brother. I secretly wanted to be just like him. He was the cool guy. Mr. personality. Adored by everyone. He liked punk music, so I bought a Blink182 CD. He starred in school plays, so I took an acting class. He decorated his room with black lights and glow stickers, so I did too. My brother also inline skated for most of his teenage years. I had hopes of being the cool skater chick that rode alongside the cool skater boys with the pink-tipped hair and baggy jeans. I even convinced my mother to buy me an expensive pair of inline skates. I recall skating with my brother outside the driveway one afternoon. I attempted to "grind" for the first time and fell flat on the concrete scraping up my knees and elbows. It wasn't long after that before I called it quits. The only time I ever wore those skates again were for school skating parties. I won the limbo contest wearing them, so I guess they weren't a total waste.

My brother could get me to do just about anything, like holding my breath until I passed out. He was the prankster in the family. Since he didn't have any other brothers in the house to pick on or play rough with, I seemed to be his guinea pig. He once told me that slurpees from 7/11 tasted better through the nostrils. One of my favorite past times was when my brother told me that my dog could speak. He told me if I shoved a crayola crayon up my dogs nose, that she would speak out the exact color crayon I was holding. He would get behind my dog and say "red" at the exact moment I put it up my poor dogs nose. For years I was convinced my dog was some sort of prodigy. One time my brother dressed up in his Halloween scream costume and scared the hell out of my sister Jenny after she had just seen her first horror film. I don't think she had a decent nights sleep for months after that event took place. He would tell me outrageous stories that went on and on and wouldn't tell me until an hour later that the whole thing was made up. Stories like him going out on a date with a legless girl, or hearing and seeing ghosts out by the pond in our backyard. No matter how much bullshit he fed me, I always believed it. Partly me just being completely naive and gullible, and the other part just wanting to be included in my brothers crazy lifestyle.

When my brother moved out of the house, I started to do my own thing. I got in touch with more of my girlish routes. I bought dresses, crimped my hair, and dropped soccer to devote all my free time to cheerleading. We both have changed a lot in the last few years. We are almost having to get to know each other all over again. What is cool about it though, is through this process I'm learning how similar we actually are. I am proud to say that I see a lot of my brother in myself. We are the free spirits in the family. We both are independent and do our own thing no matter what others say or may not agree with. We are the dreamers. Don't always think logically, but make decisions by following our hearts. We live for today and have the same passion for life. My brother is one of the most talented people I know. I will always remain my brothers biggest fan.

Yupp. We are definitely related, and I am proud to say so.