Guest Blogger: Noey

My sister wrote up a little post for me, and before I say anything else let me just say that there is a possibility I cried. I'm becoming a big, ole' baby.

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Okay, let's see. I feel like I'm standing in this big tall building on a stage, with a million people watching my every move. To see if I wipe my sweaty hands on my jeans or if I cough enough times to be deemed nervous. I guess it's pretty ridiculous to be nervous, especially when you can't even see my face or anything. It's been a while since I actually wrote anything to anybody. So, I'll try and make this good, right?
Well, hey, I'm Noelle. I'm Hannah's younger sister, by about 18 months. I don't really have a blog anymore, just a tumblr, so here's that if you want it. I guess I can just tell a few stories about when me and Hannah were little. I don't really have anything else up my sleeve, and maybe it'll give you a chance to see more of the person you follow, so let's see where this takes us.

I don't remember a time without Hannah. I mean, obviously. Honestly, I can't even do one of those "the first memory I have of her" things, because she's always been there. So far into my memory that I can't remember a time without her. When we were kids we  had the biggest imaginations ever. And we had each other, best friends, to boot. We were troublemakers, in a way. Were always confused for twins. We never stopped going, going, going. I remember when we were little we always had the same clothes, usually the same toys too. But they were always different colors. Usually she had blue or pink, and I had green or purple. We had these teddy bears that were fuzzy all over and had ribbons around their necks tied into bows. See, when I was little, I absolutely loved stuffed animals. I carried them everywhere with me. So my teddy bear, which was purple, would get dragged around so much that the ribbon would come undone and there would just be this knot at his throat. I sucked at tying bows, as a matter of fact I still do. But Hannah would always retie the bow for me.

I was always so jealous when it was her birthday. She always thought it was because of the presents, or the cake that had her name decorated beautifully on top with blue icing. No, oh no. It was because she had just turned a year older. I always wanted to be like her. It always made me mad when I was little that I couldn't be, I mean there was no way, when she was always literally one step (or year, whatever) ahead of me. We were best friends, but it was so obvious to me that she was my older sister. She was what I was looking at when I thought of how I wished to be someday.

But, looking back, I was totally doomed to not be her. We started out so the same, but now we're almost completely different. I remember when we were little, our height was a big deal. It was mostly because sometimes we'd be the same, sometimes I'd be taller, sometimes she'd be taller. It was like a race. (I won, by the way.) Okay, so the above picture? We always went to these photographers who took our pictures. It was probably yearly, but when I was little it seemed like weekly. I hated going there. In this picture, we're both wearing leotards. Or, I might be wearing a swim suit I'm not sure. One or the other. Hannah started gymnastics when she was like, four. Or something. And me, once again, wanting to be like her, tried gymnastics once when I was little. I wanted so badly to love it like she did, to be as good as she was, but I walked out after a few weeks and said the teachers were too bossy for me to like it.
When we were little, (I feel like I'm saying that a lot?) we would play in our grandma's garden. It was a pretty huge garden, and she used to grow these huge sunflowers right in the middle of it. I remember we would play hide and seek in it with our blue heeler dog. We both loved that dog so much. FYI, her name was Girl. How original, right? We would also walk the whole length of the horse field just to go to the same grandma's house, where we would promptly play dress up (Indians and cowgirl style) or put on our grandma's slips as dresses and sit on her overly large bed and play "band." Hannah was always the singer, I was always the drummer. My drums consisted of two huge pots and wooden spoons. Her microphone was an egg beater. I'm not gonna lie, I was kind of a strange kid. I was always off in my own little world, which always made me look grumpy. (Some things never change, huh?) Hannah was kind of a shy person, but could be downright weird when she was with people she was comfortable with. (And again.)

Some more things that never change, the fact that she always has my back and is ready to kick butt on anyone that is picking on her little sister over here. Or the fact that once she starts something, she always finishes it. Her passion is still there too, her determinedness. We both still drink too much Mountain Dew (what am I kidding? There's never too much.), are suckers for Disney classics, and bond over a good story. She still is afraid of anything that has a mask on or is in costume, and I still hate the dark. She's still a clean freak OCD master, I'm as messy as ever. She's going to college soon, I'll miss her. Probably more than she understands. I have no idea where any of this is leading to, or if it even makes any sense. I've probably failed her as a sister because I couldn't make up a good blog post. But basically all I'm saying is, this chick here that you follow. Is the Dean to my Sam. (If you understand this, be my best friend.) The Bonnie to my Clyde. The Simon to my Alvin.
I'll miss you when you're at college, dear sister. You're going to do absolutely great at your music scholarship/audition/thingy.