My younger sister Olivia is currently prowling through the deep woods of North Carolina … knee-deep in sludge, battling insects the size of a man’s fist, analyzing her ego and re-reading Siddhartha. I couldn’t be prouder of the little scamp.

Oli and I haven’t always been close. As siblings with an age difference of almost 7 years, we shared little in common aside from our genetic make-up. When I was heading off to junior high school, she barely knew how to tie her shoelaces. When I had my first summer job, she was building popsicle-stick cabins at summer camp. She was always my “little sister” — someone I had to babysit, supervise, feed and entertain. Not someone I could relate to.

Over the past 3 or 4 years, something has shifted. I’ve transformed into an adult with all the bourgeois trappings of modern existence: a 9-to-5 job with benefits, a house, a car, a standing hair-color appointment. And my little sister? She’s transformed into one of the most fascinating people I know.

These days, I have more in common with my sister than anyone else in the universe. We love the same ecstatic, hyper-pigmented rock music (Natalie Portman’s Shaved Head, Of Montreal, Gogol Bordello, Mindless Self Indulgence). We howl at the same comedy programs (Flight of the Conchords, The Mighty Boosh). We’re “ironically” obsessed with the same teen dramas (Degrassi, Gossip Girl, Twilight). We’re both vegetarians, except for the occasional flurry of bacon.

But despite our similarities, one fact remains: Olivia is totally, unequivocally, undeniably cooler than me. And I’m okay with that. Because for 3 more years, I can legally buy booze and she can’t. Bwa ha ha!

(Image via Aisha’s Justin.tv profile)