Our Freshman year ski trip to Killington! We were on the chairlift right behind Stacey Simon, and right when her lift was about to get to the ski-off she FELL OFF! Really? She fell off the friggin’ chairlift and who came running to her rescue? Robbie the chairlift operator, who just happened to be the hottest guy in Vermont, who just happened to be the one guy on that entire mountain I said I liked!! An entire mountain, Stef! So much terrain with thousands of cute guys and she had to fall for Robbie the chairlift operator? Not to mention she had to know I was afraid of heights and we were left danglin’ in the air for an hour while Princess Stacey got rescued by my Robbie, who just one run earlier said “Awesome Oakleys” to me. The story of her going to the hospital was absolute hogwarsh (as my gramma used to say). You and I both know she hooked up with him just to mess with me even more.
And last but so not least was that time Sophomore year when I was gonna move to New York City. You weren’t in our English class, Stef, but oh man do you know the story as well as I do.
Mr. Donovan kindly told the class that I would be bidding this town farewell for the bright lights of Manhattan, and in front of everyone Stacey Simon had the audacity to say, “That’s so awesome, Tara. What part of the city?” And in my head I was like, “Hmm, who do I currently think is hot that Stacey Simon must want to steal from me and hook up with? Hmmm.” And as you and I both know, those were the first of my Timmy Garabino days, Stef! And he was, drumroll please . . . HOT! Shocker! So I just simply said, “Downtown.” To which she publicly replied, “Cool. Where?” And I was like, duh, you idiot . . . DOWNTOWN! So I said, “Um . . . downtown!” She was like, “The East Side? Lower East Side? The West Village? Tribeca? Wall Street?” Yeah, Stef . . . like I was gonna move to Wall Street so I could be a friggin’ stockbroker. I was like, “West Village.” And she was like, “I love it there. I have family who lives on West 12th Street and 8th Avenue.” I was like, “Well, they’re gonna be my new neighbors ’cuz I’m moving to West 12th Street and 2nd Avenue.” And what did Stacey Simon say? “I think that’s the East Village.” Then she laughed. It was like I was in a hot air balloon flyin’ right over this cruel town and she took her bow and arrow and popped it.
That is Stacey Simon, Stef. Under that jean jacket is a girl with needles for fingers.
How are you friends with our mortal enemy?! ’Cuz of some sewing machine? ’Cuz you were ON ISLAND together? Are you kidding me??!!
How is my world, you ask? There’s so much goin’ on and so much of it is just wicked intense.
I never imagined a world where I would NOT be Sandy in Grease. I was her for Halloween five years in a row. I deserved to be her! I don’t know. I just don’t know!
And things with C.P.C. are fine. We are definitely one of the rare couples in this town, but again I don’t know. I just don’t know, you know?
And this Freshman kid, you know Christopher’s across-the-street neighbor (now, in a parallel universe, also known as Danny Zuko) is really drivin’ me nuts. Here’s this kid who just arrived—A FRESHMAN—and he’s just disruptin’ the natural order of things.
My world. How is my world? I’m sure you’ve smelled me in the halls when I’ve rushed by you (busy, busy, busy), and yes, that’s Trésor. Long story I will tell you if we hang out. IF.
Best wishes,
Tara M. Murphy
Dear the most beautiful girl in the world,
I AM SERIOUSLY SORRY I DIDN’T CALL YOU LAST NIGHT! See, I spelled that in all capital letters, so you know I mean it.
That girl Joy may have gotten your part and taken your perfume, but she’s got nothin’ on you, T. You have bigger gazongas, anyway.
You pissed at Matty B.? Is he being a dick to you, ’cuz if he is I’m gonna have to say somethin’ to him. Let me know.
I’m just gonna buy a new answering machine after school. Hey, I have an idea. How about you come over after rehearsal and record my answering machine greeting for me? I’d like that. Why? ’Cuz you’re my girlfriend.
I smelled your note. Just me or does Trésor smell like sex? Me likesy.
Love ya, baby,
C.P.C.
To-est T. Murphs—
I will still write “To-est” to you no matter what. That is our official greeting, and I know you know that.
I have noticed you changed your perfume. I mean, at first it was hard to tell because you were basically sprinting by me—I was
