Excuse Me Good Sir: The Story of Two Girls and a Car Named Stevie.

The year was 2008.

Speeding down the windy New England back roads, listening to Motion City Soundtrack blare on the stereo, Steph and I were doing as we always did when we suddenly saw smoke coming from behind a house. Without hesitation, she said as we drove by the house, "Excuse me good sir, I think your house is on fire".

And so it began.

"Excuse me, good sir."

This is the phrase that has endured for the past two years of our friendship.

So now, we drive down the street and say, "Excuse me good sir, you're ugly", or "Excuse me good sir, you just cut me off." It's our way of politely, but vocally, judging people. We pretty much say it for everything. It's our own personal catch phrase. Whether we're talking to a man or a woman doesn't matter. It's a universally applicable statement.

I thought of the beginning of that phrase as I waited for Steph to come over to keep me company on Wednesday night. I thought of how it caught on and became such an important element of our daily language. I guess everyone has something that they say with their friends. Over the past year, it's been adding .com to the end of a phrase, or loling all over the place. It's the John Foley call, or using an exaggerated Chicaaaaago aaaaccent. We all have things that we say that distinguish our relationships from one another.

I realized, as I sat here, that I haven't said "Excuse me, good sir" in a long time. It's probably because Steph and I haven't really driven around judging people very much in the past year. We won't be doing that very often anymore, either. But hey, when it's time to change, you've got to rearrange, right?

So, the lesson of today is as follows: you can lose your accent. You can stop using your colloquialisms (i.e. wicked). You can leave the place that you thought would always be home. But don't ever forget the things you used to say, the songs you used to sing, and the roads you used to drive. And remember, it doesn't matter if it's a man or a women, always be polite when being cruel, and say, "Excuse me good sir, you've had one too many big macs".

excusemegoodsir.franklin.ma

Why I Am Still Here Dancing.

After being home and feeling simultaneously productive and useless for over 48 hours, I've compiled a list of things that home is:

1. Home is the place where you're supposed to feel useless.

2. Home is the place that brings you back down to earth when your ego has outgrown you.

3. Home is the place where you don't have to pay for your laundry.

4. Home is the place where people are (almost) always happy to see you.

5. Home is the place that you never want to be and always want to go back to.

6. Home is the place where you can walk around in the dark without walking into anything.

7. Home is the place where it's acceptable to wear a fanny-pack (NOTE: this also applies to Bonnaroo).

8. Home is the place where it's not acceptable to sleep past 10:30 am.

9. Home is wherever your family, self-made and inherited, is.

10. Home is where you can sleep naked without making your roommate feel awkward.

11. Home is the place where it's completely acceptable to pour yourself a g&t and bask in your own fabulousness.

So my friends, take advantage of being home. Sleep naked. Do unnecessary amounts of laundry. Go buy a fannypack. Remember that the universe does not revolve around you. Buy your family dinner, or maybe matching hats. Most importantly though, pour a couple of drinks for your best and put your feet up. After all, it is summer.

XO M.

There's no place like home, now is there?

My boxes are stored. My bags are packed. The walls of my freshman dorm lay bare.

In less than 48 hours, I'll pack the car, hug my friends goodbye, and head for Franklin, Massachusetts, the place I've always called home. But the walls in my house on the hill in Franklin are now bare as well, and in 1 month, my parents will pack up their own car and migrate across the country to Arizona. So where then, does that leave me?

Pulled in a hundred different directions by my parents, my grandmother, my friends from home, my friends from school, my second mother Marushka, my aunt, and my sister, I decided that, as always, the best answer was no answer. So I'm going to do it all.

As much as I'd love to spend the summer relaxing at home with the friends whom I've grown up with, the road awaits me. And this is where I'm going to document my adventures. Being homeless doesn't mean that I have no home to go to, so much as it means that I'm going to make everywhere I go my home. I'll set myself up in Massachusetts, East Hampton, Tennessee, Arizona, and Washington D.C., and from there, venture out into the world.

Before I start my life as a nomad, I'd like to say a few words about the home I'm leaving now: George Washington University and Potomac fourth flo'. The only word that could possibly begin to describe all I've learned, loved, and lived in the past year is "tweeeeeeet!". I've met the most wonderful people from all over the world, people whom I can't imaging leaving on Monday. I want to thank you all a thousand times over for this year and say that I truly can't wait to visit you all this summer!

So here we go, off on a magical summer adventure to wherever the road leads. Armed with my trusty honda, my laptop, my camera, and my best friends, I can't possibly get lost.

XO M.

"We were all delighted, we all realized we were leaving confusion and nonsense behind, and performing our one and noble function of the time, move." -Jack Kerouac