Having a neurologist for a sis is super useful, especially if you’re prone to thinking, at regular intervals, that your brain might have serious probs.

My sis usually reassures me, ever patiently, that the chances of my going completely insane are pretty low, even if I’m a female poet.

We’ve taken v. different directions, my sis and I, but this has surprisingly little to do with the fact that she’s in the sciences and I’m in the arts. We both have proclivities in both directions — My sis plays the piano beautifully, and used to paint really gorgeous watercolors. Today, she knits complicated sweaters, makes her own beautiful curtains, and cooks very creative and complex vegetarian meals.

For my part, I did nicely in AP Physics and AP Calculus and was encouraged to pursue a career in the sciences — then I got to college and used the AP credits to opt out of science-math related requirements altogether. I manged to leave school a year early, graduating with a major in English Writing and a minor in Vocal Performance.

The paths we’ve taken, in my view, have much less to do with ability than with personal choice. She chose to go into medicine, and I chose to write poetry. She chose to go to Harvard then Columbia Med, partially financed by parents but mostly accrued in what became roughly $130K in student loans despite her penny pinching; I chose to only apply to colleges that I thought’d give me a full ride, so that, as a legal adult at 18, I’d no longer be financially dependent on my parents, then picked from those schools. Grad school at USC’s also a self-sustaining enterprise with teaching, though I do take a few thou out in loans every year to finance my drinking habit.

The main diff between us now is that she’s been clear ’bout this doctor-neurologist track since like third grade, while I’ve reached a near-catatonic, debilitiating indecision about what I want to do with my life.

[To be continued, cuz I've just opened a new bottle of wine.]

Update, 5/5/07: Continued here.

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