My Sister, My Hero, My Alcoholic

Pass the Courvoisier

I know what you’re thinking: who’s the Black Cambodian in the picture? Cute huh? Sorry to disappoint you but she’s not Cambodian. She is however a raging alcoholic and also my sister.  That tight eyed beauty and I have been great friends for the last 10 years. She was always a good sibling but because of the age difference we didn’t hang out too much as you can imagine. While I was trying to decorate my Cherry Merry Muffin Bake Shop, Zoe (as we call her) was giving a report in her Participation in Government class. Yea, that big of a gap.  But when I entered college and was granted the go ahead to get my drink on by the government, she and I have been closer than a supermodel and two fingers. I don’t know if the friendship developed because she and I could now talk on a level that wasn’t there before or because I could now get her drinks if the bartender refused to serve her. Look at her with that glass in her hand. You would’ve thought she just won the lottery or a trip to Hawaii. Nope. Someone just bought her another round. But anything free would make me giddy as well. In any case, our close relationship was worth the wasted years and $10,000 bill from university.

I remember it like it was yesterday. The scream from the other end of the phone when I told her I was accepted into NYU. I can’t believe I just played myself and actually typed NYU. That just shows you my wishful thinking. I was accepted into LIU CW Post, which was still a great school but nowhere near NYU status. Anyway, we stopped at Target to get some items I’d need in the dorm before arriving to the campus. As I walked through the corridors of Riggs Hall, I realized I wasn’t the only one excited about my new adventure ahead of me. Zoe was beaming at the thought of us being so close to each other now that I moved downstate. Not just cuz she was thrilled of being a part of this new chapter in my life, but she now had a free babysitter for her 3 year old who hated my guts at the time.

Those semesters made up the best years (or year I should say) of my life. I still hold on to the memories I had with Zo. Like the time she allowed me to skip class to hang with her for the weekend while the hubby and kid went to ATL. The drives to Albany where a cop would stop us for SOMETHING and I’d feed her rice and beans. There was also the album release of Diary of Alicia Keys and Da Band’s Too Hot For TV. Uh huh. That’s right. DA BAND! Cuz we LOVE taking Dylan’s money. Then there was the late night death threat prank calls from Miss Mad (my 91 yr. old grandmother who was bored) and the feeling of acceptance I got when she’d take me everywhere introducing me to her friends Sam, Heather, Ant, Brian and more.  And how could I ever forget the time she bought me a brand new coat after I nearly died of hypothermia waiting an hour for the bus in November in a hooded sweatshirt.  I could go on and on about the times we’ve laughed together but I’m tired of typing and I gotta clean my house.

I’m not doing big things and while I talk about celebrities and exciting stuff at my job, there’s no glitz and glamour. I struggle to live a decent, yet very simple life in NYC. And had it not been for my dear sister who has been a great support system for the last decade teaching me how to grow as a professional and an adult, I’d probably still be……well, who knows. But no matter how old I get, a fart or doody joke will always be at the tip of my tongue waiting to whisper something sweet in her ear.

P.S.

I’ve just been informed my Zoe has entered into the Betty Ford clinic. One day a time sis. One day at a time. This is it!

Advertisements

1 Comment

Filed under Amanda

One response to “My Sister, My Hero, My Alcoholic

  1. Ant

    wow i can’t believe you put this on the net…. zoe isn’t that bad…. ok i’m lying but she has things under control (wink wink lol)

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s