I’m not the best at planning ahead. One might argue that’s because I live in the moment, but one might also argue that is a ridiculous argument; you can live in the moment while also acknowledging there are other moments coming you should be prepared for. Me? I try to avoid arguments altogether. Because I’m way too busy living in the moment. Come on, people. Pay attention.
Last week, my little sister told me she had an unexpected work trip to LA this week and was I free to hang out if she extended the trip through the weekend? Of course I was, and as soon as we hung up I set about planning a nonstop weekend of fun. As step one in my planning phase usually requires a solid one to seventeen days spent thinking about starting step one, by the time she arrived late Wednesday night I had a ton of ideas about what we could do but no actual plans. Or sheets for the air mattress she was going to crash on. Or an extra towel.
In my defense, I don’t have one; these are things I should have prepared before she arrived because according to my birth certificate, I am an adult.
The good news? Siblings are friends you don’t have to impress, because you’ve spent a literal lifetime knowing each other. They’ve seen you wet the bed and melt down over Monopoly. They’ve given you their fries and hoarded their toys. They’ve screamed with you and at you and for you and can share a comfortable silence in a way almost no other human on the planet can because you grew up in backseats together, staring out windows looking for that elusive license plate from Hawaii.
The last time my sister visited LA, it rained almost the entire time she was here. And not just a light sprinkle — torrential downpour for three solid days. As if this wasn’t bad enough, everywhere we went she was treated to the running commentary offered by Angelinos when it rains for more than thirteen consecutive minutes here; the chorus of “this never happens” and “I haven’t seen rain like this since 1926.” Not exactly what you want to hear when you were promised sunshine and beaches.
Despite my lack of planning, this time around I was able to share the things I love about Los Angeles with her. We took a yoga class and she lectured me about toe fungus. We got last minute tickets to a comedy show and laughed until we cried listening to David Spade. We hiked to the highest point in the Santa Monica mountains and took 112 selfies to prove it. We ate delicious food. We sat in traffic. And we soaked up the sunshine.
But mostly, we got to live in the moment together and enjoy the people we’ve become, grown up kids who sit in the front seat now and find the best song to sing along to.
She leaves tomorrow morning and I’m not sure when I’ll see her next. One thing I know for sure? I will have sheets and a towel ready.