EIGHT.
EIGHT GIRLS.
One phone line.
No call waiting. Ugh...
Like I said, it was ages ago. The dark ages.
All that madness aside, let me introduce Bria. She was one of those eight girls. Bria is about 5-foot nothin'... and when I first met her she wore gypsy skirts, listened to Widespread Panic, Phish, the Greatful Dead... and had hair down to her ass. When I think of Bria I think of going dancing every weekend at 'the farm', working at the upscale men's clothier (we both worked there, but at different times), her infectious laugh, and her ability to convince me to do just about anything (she has this way of appealing to my logical side...i can't explain it). Bria ended up leaving our school after her freshman year to finish up her bachelor's back home, but we've kept in touch ever since...
Here you go girl. Your children are drop-dead gorgeous...
Bria's son is roughly the same age as Trey and has the same penchant for super-hero costumes. They hit it off immediately and ran around the beach house as Power Rangers, Batman, and Bumblebee (from transformers, not A bumblebee, that would have been weird)...
Perfection.
One more. Hopefully up tomorrow night :)
Until next time,
~ K
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