What it’s like to have my younger sibling on the Hilltop

It feels like yesterday I was typing my sister’s name on the Georgetown e-mail search to find out if she had been accepted before the official results were out.

I hadn’t lived in the same city as her since before I left for boarding school, and all of a sudden there was a possibility she was basically going to be my neighbor.

I’m not sure exactly what I expected. Probably a lot more wardrobe-stealing and petty fighting, but I certainly did not predict she would change my Georgetown experience to the extent that she did.

People think we are the same person

I’ve introduced myself to some people who have then laughed and tried to convince me that we’d met earlier that week in Lau. It always surprises me when I have to argue my way into proving I was in fact not in Lau on that day, nor did we ever meet. Sometimes I will even get a cheeky smile from a freshman and assume, or pray, that it was meant for my sister.

Everyone asks me how it feels

For some reason everyone seems to be very intrigued by what it feels like to have a sibling at Georgetown. And they are never satisfied when I give a positive answer, as If they expect there to be some sort of obscene rivalry or hatred between us.

Privacy is constantly abused

My flatmate has by now come to terms with the fact there is always a possibility of my sister dropping by our place unannounced, even when I am not there. And probably helping herself to beers and food.

My friends have multiplied

Just when I had resolved I was too lazy to make new friends during my senior year, I suddenly found myself receiving daily friend requests from freshmen and sophomores. And plenty new Instagram likes, which I can’t complain about.

I know too much gossip

Regardless of whether I want to hear it or not, I know exactly which freshman is hooking up with who. And I have no doubt her friends know every social scandal of my friend group.

I always have someone to eat with

Or rather, to cook for. At least once a week I receive a text from my sister along the lines of “Hey I’m broke, can I come to yours for dinner?” And, as the older sister, I have to swallow my own brokenness and save her from the torture of Leo’s.

Traveling home for breaks is less boring

Ubers to Dulles, uncomfortable Immigration lines and 12-hour flights are suddenly slightly more bearable. Also, if my suitcase is overweight, I know exactly who has room for my extras.

There are no secrets

Childhood stories are suddenly common knowledge and photos always find their way out somehow. Even more frustratingly, the outrageous photos I was smart enough to delete from my own Facebook profile are now very visible on her profile.

My parents became Georgetown fanatics

I am pretty sure my mum’s Instagram and Facebook friends think she has moved to Georgetown, because she has more photos of Georgetown than of my hometown. She also suddenly knows what “G.P.A.” means. Ouch.

I became the messenger when my sister can’t be reached

It’s OK when my sister loses her phone at ChiDi or when she can’t find her charger. Because my family knows they always can count on blowing my phone up with life-threatening questions such as whether or not she has finished her Math homework.

I always have loyal supporters at events

If I ever fear one of my club meetings, presentations or info sessions are going to be unattended, I know I can always blackmail my sister and her clan into being there, front-row, cheering.

I always have a spot in Lau

You can always count on the freshmen to have the best seat, every day, 24-hours a day. And during my coffee breaks, I no longer have to rely on neighboring strangers to guard my belongings.

She reaped the benefits

While I had to wait till September of my senior year to get into Tombs, she was getting in with my fakes during her first month of freshman year. Embarrassingly enough, our first night coincided.

I became the big sister again

My boozy, careless nights out have quickly turned into keeping a sober eye out for my sister and death-staring any male predator who may be approaching her.

I have a reason to come back next year

Most importantly, I will hopefully not look like such an irrelevant intruder when I crash next year’s Homecoming and Georgetown day parties.