Happy Monday.
Instead of immediately starting on homework this morning, I chose to bide my time watching TV in bed, eventually flipping to ABC Family to catch an episode of Gilmore Girls. Damn good show but not the route I'm taking with this post. After that I got sidetracked reading emails and facechatting with my friend, Hilary. "Facechatting" is the verb used when two people are using facebook chat as a means of communication. Not to sound arrogant, but I'm fairly certain I coined the term. I'm pretty clever sometimes. If you don't know Hilary Murphy, please find a way to get to know her. She is one of my oldest and most interesting friends and never ceases to captivate me with stories about her daily life. She's listened to The Grateful Dead since birth and was genuinely sad the day Jerry Garcia passed away. I, being the consistent poser that I once was, only pretended to be upset after the deaths of Kurt Cobain, Tupac, and Biggie. Wasn't it only possible to be upset about either Tupac or Biggie? To the best of my recollection, they weren't on the same side. I tried really hard to look the part of a grieving, diehard fan. Our parents used to hold their breaths every time Hilary and I played together because it was always a gamble as to what would happen and how many things would be ruined as a result of each ridiculous shenanigan. For instance, one time we took every condiment out of her pantry and fridge (mustard, mayonnaise, chocolate syrup, ketchup, etc...) and had a condiment fight in her backyard. Her mother wasn't very happy with the outcome. Neither was mine. I think I took 11 showers that night to get rid of the putrid smell, and my guess is that Mrs. Murphy had to spend over $100 at the grocery store just to restock the various items we chose to use as weapons. Hilary and I also tried a hand in entrepreneurship, taking the classic lemonade stand idea to new heights. I'm assuming we didn't have the ingredients to make lemonade that day but still wanted to make a quick buck off of willing and gullible customers. So we proceeded to put the following items we found lying around my house up for sale: hair rubberbands (whether or not these elastics had been previously used is vague...I'd be willing to bet they had been), Murphy and Wood original paintings, done on computer paper, created in a matter of seconds right before our stand opened for business (probably because of the lack of other enticing merchandise), and stale Andes mints on sale for $1.00 apiece. I'm not sure if we were under the impression that the people of this world (or at least the people of my neighborhood) could be easily outsmarted by a couple of 9-year-olds or if we desperately needed the money to buy something as important as grape BubbleYum or slap bracelets. There's really no way of knowing. Needless to say, our profits were severely scarce at the end of the day (and by scarce, I mean nonexistent), and the "Hilary & Melissa's random objects stand" closed without any promise of ever re-opening. Another one of our brilliant ideas was captured in the picture you see at the top of this post. I am on the left, Hilary is on the right, and we are naked and covered in magic markers. Judging from the picture, we appear to be about 9 or 10, and it's your call whether or not we were too old to be doing things like prancing around naked in the sprinkler with colorful Crayolas in hand. I'm arguing we were not, and honestly, in the future, I'd rather my child do that kind of stupid thing than something on the other side of the stupidity spectrum like confess to me on Maury Povich that her vocational goal is to become a prostitute. Feel free to disagree though. Although I could easily waste more of your time with tales about my countless adventures with Hilary by my side, I must conclude this tangent here and end with a prayer that my funny friend used to say every night...Goodnight. Sweet dreams. I love you. God bless you. Thanks for being such a great friend. Don't forget to say your prayers. I'll see you in the morning. Peace, love and happiness. Hilary R. Murphy! Man, I miss her.
Peace. Love. The "R" stands for Redmond.
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