Facebook made me do it.

25. It only recently come to my attention that I am not necessarily a good older sister. (well, by two minutes.) This is due to the fact that I spent a large part of my youth controlling my twin sister, Heather. I would torture her to wake up (she likes to sleep in, still does). Would push us to play Barbies, and when we would, well, after we dressed each Barbie for whatever glamorous and exciting event they were going to (think wedding, billy idol concert, etc.) would tell her that we had to leave them alone. Barbie must stay as she is. Everything looks pretty so let's leave 'em alone and go do something else. A tape recording of Heather and I in our rooms playing reveals me singing and being the generally happy person that I am. Heather is crying. Instead of consoling her, I drawl in my creepishly thick southern accent that no longer exists: "Chill out Heather, Just CHILL OUT." She continues to cry. ME = BAD SISTER. (Also, interestingly, Heather and I never had a Ken doll. Nor did we want one. I suppose we thought it gross... but I think we were making a bold feminist statement and just didn't realize it yet.)
24. In further continuation of item #25, it should be noted that this behavior continued as an adult. I, by no means, am as OCD as I once was, but still much prefer the preparations for a party rather than the party itself. I hate everything becoming all messy-- chip crumbs everywhere, leaves drug in by the guests to mess up the once pretty linoleum-- gah... I really need to learn to relish the fun of company as opposed to the fun of a nice clean presentation. I'm totally that girl that follows people around picking up their cups, etc, making them uncomfortable. Which is also why I really enjoy the pre-event part of my job, but not the during and post-event part.
23. As children, my sister and I would start a new club and it would disband generally within a week as a new interest arose. The clubs were pitiful and dorky. Some included: "Archaeology Club" and "Fitness Club" and "Save the World Club". Club members were usually myself, Heather, and Stephanie (a neighborhood friend.) Agenda items would include new fitness regimens or brushing off the ugly rocks discovered in the backyard. On the whole, I think this model well represents myself as an adult-- always loving the idea of something (flash cool image of an archaeologist on a dig ala Indiana Jones) but not having the gusto for the follow-through or the actual research and work involved and so ultimately never REALLY finding my OWN passion.
22. As a child, I fell into a sewer. I won't comment on how this might have translated into my confidence level as an adult. Ha.
21. I have an irrational and unscientifically founded fear of being sucked out of my car. I sometimes will randomly lock the doors so as not to be sucked out. I also have an ideal cell phone holder in the door handle of my car, but am generally hesitant to place it there for fear that it will be sucked out and crushed. I have visualized myself being sucked out of traveling car on multiple occasions, to great dramatic effect and untimely death.
20. As children, Heather and I played "Veterinarian". The name of our clinic was Olive Branch. We kept files for all of our stuffed animals on our computer. They also had matching index cards in the event that the computer was on the fritz. We would log the surgeries done, prescriptions prescribed, and the "OR" was a magically transformed bunk bed by blanket alone. We were organized, imaginative little freaks. To date, we never got involved withthose dreadful video games, and our desperate attempts to play them later in life are shameful at best. (no hand-eye coordination to speak of.)We were much happier inside our own minds.

Wow. Okay. I have work to do. Looks like this list will be presented in installments. Of five. Be looking for tomorrow's great (well, hopefully somewhat interesting) revelations.

Toodleloo.