Scotch and Sox: Not my day to post, not really an excuse, but a reason

Monday, June 7, 2010

Not my day to post, not really an excuse, but a reason

A few things have conspired against me recently. My computer of four years, good old James Franco, finally died. Mhairi and Cara might remember that hideous retching noise JFranc used to make, and that stopped last fall. Then a few weeks before graduation, the noise came back and the screen went permanently blue.

Which brings me to my next point. College graduation. It was intense and time-consuming. Then I moved home. Things have been craaaazy.

Tomorrow I have an all-you-can-eat ice cream festival (goal for this year: thirty scoops) and my life has been, well, when I get a new computer, I will share more. I just wanted to say HELLOOOO MY LOVELIES. Also, Cara is coming to see me in EIGHT DAYS

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Mhairi

-She is entirely responsible for those instances when I am by myself and burst into spontaneous laughter. The lovely Mhairi is the wittiest person I know. - Roseanne

Mhairi has never failed to amaze me. Her total gracelessness, shocking lack of tact and obnoxious personality entranced me the moment I met her. She's witty and smart and funny without even trying and I have, indeed, loved her long time. - Jenny

The first time I met Mhairi, she was wearing nothing but a Troy Bolton beach towel. I'm not really sure what else I need to say about this. -Ashley

Ashley

Ashley was born in the little suburbs of the South Shore. She moved around a lot in her early months, perhaps instilling in her a deep need for stability and roots. By her first birthday, she had decided she would never be leaving the home she lived in then. She vowed to defend it until the day she died and this she did quite well until her eighteenth year, when she was shipped off to a boarding school in the western portion of the state. There, she traded cranberries for corn husks and Oliver Wendell Holmes Sr and Henry David Thoreau for Robert Frost and Emily Dickinson.

Ashley spent much time pining for Boston and developing a thicker accent to accompany her need for truly 24-karat gold domes and baseball players. Tragedy struck at the end of her first year in Western State when betrayal by a friend led to in-fighting with her army. Suddenly, home was no longer the safe haven it had been before. Tragedy again struck in her second year in Western Mass, when betrayal by a soldier hit where it hurt most (Facebook). However, all began to heal when she discharged said soldier from her life and began fighting a good fight for education in the mean streets of middle school.

There, Ashley learned to stop knife fights between seventh graders, how to multiply fractions, and the true value of being called words she is not at liberty to repeat. But all was still wrong in Western State. In Western State, even the brooms had it out for her and while her professors adored her, she suffered a terrible sweeping accident that tore tendons only Tom Brady has the sex appeal to tear in a manly manner. It was fine, though, because despite being a codeine cowgirl for a couple weeks, Ashley began plotting her self-imposed exile.

"Where is warm?" she wondered. "Where is sunny?" "Where are the people going to stand behind me and support my desperate love of sports and Boston and deep-fried anything?" This is how Ashley wound up in Scotland, but the stories of what she did once she was there, those are for another blog:

http://lordbyronsluggage.blogspot.com/

- Did this girl swallow a dictionary, a tub of glitter and a rainbow when she was little? Her words are eloquent, scintillating and beautiful at all times. I'm in awe of her. - Roseanne

Scotch and Sox

Monday, June 7, 2010

Not my day to post, not really an excuse, but a reason

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Mhairi

Roseanne

Jenny

Ashley

Cara

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