Émilie

Aren’t they just?  I spent the past five days with my best friend, Monica, up in Boston where she is finishing her second year of seminary.  The post title above was shouted at us by a creepy Boston Red Sox fan as we tenaciously shoved our way through the crowd at Fenway for some delicious local frozen yogurt down the block.  Monica swears she heard a less polite word that also rhymes with “glasses,” but then the quote would not accurately sum up my trip.

I stayed with Mo in her delightful unair-conditioned room at the Boston University Theology House, and remembered all of the reasons that I loved living with her.  Her room overlooks the Charles River and is situated on the 3rd floor of a strikingly charming (read “old”) mansion with enough crown molding and architectural features to make any HGTV host wet themselves.  Unfortunately, I always failed to remember to take pictures seeing as how I always wound up light-headed after climbing the 7 flights of stairs to reach Monica’s room.