Packing My Bags and Taking My Show on the Road.

Greetings once again, old friend.

I suppose -- no, I KNOW -- it's been a while since I wrote anything down on this piece of cyberspace. Not that material's been lacking, but the mental overload of my life has kept me from caring.

I do not mean to say I don't care about YOU. I do. I care very deeply about you and a great many other things. Like macaroni and cheese. I care about that. And baseball. Not the object, but the idea of it as the great American pastime. And what's more, I care about having clean underwear... because what would happen if I got hit by a car? Actually, to be honest, I know very well what would happen to me if I got hit by a car, but I haven't parsed it out to the point of figuring out what would happen if I got hit by a car in dirty underwear. I guess one could speculate that I might dirty my underwear as the car hit me. Lose control of my bowels, so to speak. And then what would be the point of wearing them in the first place?

Maybe the better option would be to carry a pair of clean underwear around with me in my bag or purse or what-have-you. Then, should I get hit by the car -- any car -- I'd be prepared. Yes. Yes, that's what I'll do.

On to more pressing matters...

I have been accepted to Emerson and NYU, and although my heart will always be with NYU, I'm headed to Emerson in the fall. It's going to be weird, but maybe, as you say, all of our friends can move to Boston too, and we'll infiltrate. An invasion of Pittsburghers. In fact, let's just move all of Pittsburgh to Boston, and then I won't miss anything while I'm gone for the next few years.

So pack your things, Pittsburgh. We're moving to Boston.
Don't forget that extra pair of clean underwear.

Til the next time,
Meredith

P.S. Sunday is Mother's Day. Sunday is Mother's Day. Sunday is Mother's Day.