Take a holiday in Spain...

A girl needs to see a bit of the world to understand herself.

And on Monday, I'm flying to Madrid. Cities for the grand tour include: Madrid, Seville, Barcelona, Messina, Naples, Rome, Florence, and Nice.

The scariest part of the trip? It's not staying in hostels for the first time or the tiny, city-jumping flights. It's not my complete ineptitude with the language or the fear that my credit cards won't work. It's not the fear of getting drunk and falling off a balcony.

It's my little sister.

Or, my not so little sister, I guess. She's eighteen and though we're meeting up with our parents eventually, we'll be on our own for almost six days. Do you know how much trouble an eighteen year old abroad can get into in six days?

I don't either. Yet.

My sister and I have, for a long time now, been friends as well as sisters. We enjoy each other's company immensely. We do not, however, party together. We do not drink together. We do not carouse.

I have trouble getting my mind around the fact that she is about to enter college...and probably do all I did (and more) in college. And I don't understand why I feel the need to protect her and shelter her from things that I very much enjoyed (and still do): namely, drink and men. Hombres y...sangria y vino.

And you can't keep someone safe from things they don't want to be kept safe from...especially if, when used responsibly, these things are not even dangerous to begin with.

Ah de mio.