Much love to my patron saint of blogging Angelina Mia for the idea of pulling an old blog post into the future.
At the time of this blog post from my first blog Burst My Bubble, I was living in Provo and "going" to Brigham Young University—a.k.a. skipping a lot of class. I have edited this piece below to only add capitalization. Enjoy this blast from the past.
Friendship Bling
Let us venture into the hypothetical. The unrealistic. Understanding nothing and reaching for everything, I boldly go forth to
where no Holly has been before; at least, not this Holly.
Salt Lake City is a buzz for the not-so-ordinary tourist; enough
parochial goodness to last a weekend or a full day. But we're in the
fantasy land. So, what of the dark, dashing type who wouldn't simply
need a walk around downtown and a burger? Since we're here, how about
being cousins/classmates/producers/presidential candidates? Go grab the Hindu garb/Bermuda shorts/velveteen lapels/Yankees caps. The locals know
where to go. But the easiest guise to hide under is none other than the
one that requires a trip to Wally's World/ice cream/the finest electric
razor in town. I'm pumping iron for that struggle. Hypothetically.
Internationally known superstar Miss Holly is looking and smelling
like a million bucks. Letting her thoughts wander to the "what ifs" and
the "wouldn't it be nices." 'Cause last night she was told again that she
is hot. And y'all know what that word means to her. It means she's
putting on her roller blades and jetting over to the nearest vendor. Sold. To the handsome young man with the dark hair. Cha-ching.
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