Let’s break this thing down, shall we? We’re Pete and Jobin and it’s nice to meet ya.
I have never been told I have street smarts.
Actually, I’ve never been told I have book smarts either.
I do have an extensive knowledge of clouds, a knack for all things sarcasm, and an innate desire to eat bacon with every meal.
I drink vodka, wine, and complain about beer. I hate my iPhone but refuse to switch to an android. I pretend to exercise because it’s cool. I’m addicted to HGTV, but I can’t do anything myself. I live in Boston and one time I ate ice cream within a five foot radius of Dustin Pedroia; he pretty much adopted me on the spot.
I’m twenty-four and eat chicken and rice five times a week. My bedroom is a converted closet in a basement apartment with a gorgeous view of a Boston alley. I look out my window and I see a dumpster and eight rats. It’s breathtaking.
With all that said, I’m just doing what every other twenty-something is doing: trying to find myself. So if you find me first, let me know.
That tall girl with short hair.
By far the most common way people describe me.
I’m a have-it-both-ways kind of girl. I love a good pale ale and am obsessed with how to sneak chia seeds into more recipes (chia beer anyone?). I legitimately enjoy eating kale and it would break my NY heart to ever consider giving up bagels.
And apparently pretty much everything worth knowing about me has to do with food. Probably true.
I’m a public health nutrition nut and casual yogi. I could spend an entire summer watching Rear Window and The Sound of Music (I have). I am a certified pun master and have an odd affection for the Gin Blossoms. I kill it at Scrabble, but am the worst Words With Friends procrastinator. Seriously. It’s always my move.
Not too long ago I ended a sixish year stint in DC and moved up to NY to go to grad school and come back home. Literally. I’m living with my parents.
So it’s back to school, and back to my high school bedroom, all in the name of reaching legitimate adulthood. Growing up never looked so bizarre. Join me, won’t you?