Poor Us... Wait, What?

Pity. It happens.

But getting pitied because we are twins? That really sucks.

"Poor you, your family dressed you two alike. However did you live through it?" (Quite happily, thanks).

"You had to SHARE?! Oh, how horrible your childhood must have been." (Sharing is caring, folks, and it really wasn't bad).

"You have always been around each other? How do you manage it?" (Because we like each other).

Not everyone is like this, I want you to know. Yes, you may call me Captain Obvious. Lots and lots of people either a) think being a twin is cool or b) are ambivalent, like "Hey, you're people, I'm a person, it's all good, whatevs" type of ambivalent. Sometimes c) are mildly annoyed because telling us apart is hard or looking alike draws attention (which we don't look for BTW, except here on this little blog of course... alright, moving right along) or whatever.

BUT these statements have happened, or a statement with that general idea has happened. Mostly from kids or people our age, but we have had some random comments from adult strangers. (Heh. Adult. We're 20. When does one stop using "adult" as an adjective?)

It's like twins wear signs like

"OH HAI, we look alike and/or were born on the same day
so please tell us your opinion about how we should run our lives
(based on personal experience or not),
KTHXBAI."

To those people and such comments, we politely smile. And then post it on teh interwebs.

Cheers,
Alison

Personality

If personality was solely decided by star charts and astronomical charts, Baby A and I would be just alike.

Not. At. All.

Baby A likes to stay up late and go out and such. My idea of a good night involves into pajamas and then bed early. Maybe some TV, a movie, or a good book.

Baby A is bubbly. She bubbles like a shaken soda sometimes. I'm more reserved (says she, the one who started this little space to spill her thoughts out onto the information superhighway). I swear.

I'm a measure-twice-cut-once type of girl. It does make sense I'm a little more into crafting. Baby A doesn't always look before she leaps. Sometimes she gets a running start too. She's also the athletic one.

I'm portraying myself as the dour sister and Baby A as the merry sister. Of course, these are generalizations and not close to the whole picture.

I fully admit Baby A is the fun one*, and I love her so much.

Cheers,
Alison

*Did you read this?

Blonde

Baby A and I were blonde during childhood. Blonde. Not towheaded, but... blonde. (I called it "more yellow than white" to my hairstylist. She thinks me and my inexperience in the ways of the world of hair are amusing.)

And then we got older and it changed to "dirty blonde." And it kinda got to a point where, really, it was brown. Particularly in winter when sun+chlorine don't work their magic.

Long story short, Baby A decides, after talking about it off and on for years, that she's going to go blonder. The decision fell to me: to dye or not to dye?

"Wait," you may be thinking. "Baby A is the fun one*, so why didn't she just jump right on that foil bandwagon and ride off into the golden sunset?" Our mother was sooooo anti-dye for the longest time. Then time went on and Mom succumbed to highlights. The decision to put "those chemicals" in her hair was probably less difficult than knowing she no longer had room to talk. Heh.

I did decide to get highlights. Not because I was so concerned that wemustlookexactlyalike but because if you can't do something fun and crazy with your hair during college, really, when can you? I just called partial highlights "fun and crazy." You have my permission to laugh. Like I said, my stylist does.

And, no, our hair color is not the same anymore. Baby A ended up blonder with more color overall. And that's A-OK with us.

Cheers,
Alison

*True story. I'll tell it some time.

One Car Twinkieship

That's right, we have one car. We share one car.

Our life is a two person carpool.

This is better for the environment, of course. We consolidate errands and accompany each other on them. We work at the same place, both during the school year and now, during summer, at a day camp. So that's not a concern.

Dad asked the other day, "So when will you two need another car?"

Now, we work, live, and go to school together. But soon, like two or three years soon, that could change.

When will we need another car?

Cheers,
Alison