Nicole: Trina, hey what's up? Not much here. Just sittin! Sometime soon, me, you and Julie have to do something together!
So, what are you doing for Halloween? What are you going to be? I have no idea who I'm going to be. Either a french maid or a hippy! I don't know!
W/B
Nicole Kenning
Call me sometime!
What's your number?
Trina: The ceiling is up.Yeah, I know maybe we could all go to the movies or go somewhere. A hunter or a pumpkin or a fisher or a clown. Probably not a clown, though. I can't call you this weekend because I'm grounded from the phone.
You write very pretty.
I'd say about 98.7% of my letters started with the exact same opening. "Hey, what's/wuz up? Not much here. Just sitting/chillin". My lack of originality really bit me in the ass later in life. Gotta start early! And what the hell was I thinking trying to dress like a french maid for Halloween? Not that my parents would ever let their 12 year old dress like a skank, but there isn't a pair of socks thick enough to stuff that outfit. I couldn't even pull off the slutty costumes as an adult, but what I lacked in boobs I made up for in long legs and an alcohol-fueled lack of inhibition. "Hippy" was always a nice back-up costume idea, especially since bell bottoms were just coming back in style. But a clown? That was social suicide. Then AND now.
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