I got home and felt, sincerely, like my day was just beginning. Not because I hold late hours, but for the following reasons. When I work, it is time that never happens. Almost everyone at my job is very nice, but none show themselves to be very interesting. No real sparks of... well, anything. I come home, then, sweat-dripped and alive, and I
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I'm going to go sit on the stoop. Maybe I'll make a new friend.
I have no doubt that you will.
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Miss you, you little red-headed hippie.
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for now could i entice you with more juicy tidbits from one of my friend's romantic lives? this one's pretty funny... it involves: mrs. massey, some alcohol, and lots of hair
good sneak preview, eh?
anyhooooo... i'll talk to you some day. too bad i couldn't stop by chickenpox and polio when i was in boston. i think i'll go to wellesley if i don't get into swarthmore. i'm saying boo to hav because they don't have russian.
mmmm also if your name is kristin brophe and you're reading this can i give you a lot or a little money to buy me cool japanese things while you're there?? that was be so great. i don't actually know when you're leaving but um... it will work out i'm sure.
that's all for now,
keefe the second
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