So what I am going to say will probably come back and haunt me for the rest of my life.
The apartment building I live in is full of foreign (read: not from ‘Merica) grad students. They smell weird... but not always bad, like the friendly Asian guys down the hall who smell of noodles and oil. But the East Indian guys smell like curry and ass. I mean, they have showers in their rooms too…why choose to smell like 3 months worth of BO?
Rachel and I even thought of bottling the smells emanating from the doors and trying to identify them. I am sure this has drinking game potential. Room number 123: marijuana smoke. Room number 126: rice/soy sauce/man sweat. Room 128: incense and peppers. Room 129: burning.
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Hi Ed,
Your brother sent me the link to your page. I'm jealous that you get to hang out with Paul Crabb...I really miss choir since I quit after my sophomore year (but it was driving me insane and I don't regret the decision).
It's good to get a vague idea of how you're doing. I haven't talked to anyone from the old hometown in about a hundred years...but I always did like those Grow boys...
Haha. Oh, Kate if you only knew. I joined facebook recently and saw your little sis. I asked her if we could get married because our older siblings couldn't ever get it together...we both agreed that the people we are dating would understand.
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