before there were blogs there was Marge

My sister and I are close. I like to think that we are really close, great friends. I depend on her for a lot. She gives me the ugly honest truth when others sugar coat it, she is there for me to celebrate the small victories in life and cry with me over spilled milk. And I think she is someone that KNOWS me for me, sometimes better than I know myself.
But we were not always like this. Growing up we HATED each other. When we were really little we fought all the time. As we grew up we were pretty competitive, or maybe I was just competing with her I don't know. It took her leaving for college for us to start to click as people and want to be in each others lives. While we were away at college we talked on the phone, emailed and even sent each other care packages (I once got a large bouncy ball in the mail from my sister, not in a box, just with the postage right on the ball and she had written a letter to me all over the ball! SO creative!). At some point during our college years I got the idea to start a journal of sorts that we would actually send back and forth to each other. We loved this journal, named her Marge and wrote all about our lives in her. We filled up at least one spiral bound notebook sized journal and started a second but unfortunately at some point we just got too busy and Marge sat on a shelf not being sent.
I thought of her tonight as I was reading all the posts my sister has recently added to her old blog . Reading her personal posts made me think about how much closer we have gotten since we started blogging. It is just like when we had Marge, only better! It isn't just the writing of the posts, but the way we comment for each other, the conversations that we have about our posts and other people's comments and we share photos and videos that we normally would have to email or print for each other. These days there are so many ways to keep in touch with people that you don't live close to but for some reason blogging brings out really personal information, the real life stuff that I don't think most people would share over the phone, on twitter or facebook.
Marge is somewhere packed in a box right now with all of our other books that we had to pack up with the move. But now that I have remembered about that journal I cannot WAIT to unpack those boxes, find Marge and reread what was important to us and going on in our lives back then. I imagine these blogs will be the same way in a few years.