“Lemme tell you…”
“Hey! Get this…”
“I bet you didn’t know…”
Girl talk. talk talk talk. Taaaaaalk.
I grew up in a family of 5 girls (one boy). Let’s not mention my growing up in Virginia, going to an all girls high school. Oh my goodness. Talk.
Talking in line. Talking at lunch. Talking on long bus rides to play field hockey. Talking on the phone at night.
My best friend and I talked on long train rides – YES! the train to DC. On our own. Up to no good. Talk talk talk talk.
Guys might have randomly been a subject. Maybe clothes. But mostly just ridiculous gossip. About what, I can’t even recall.
I’d spend the summers in Maine. Sailing, swimming in the cold water, climbing mountains, being outdoors. Doing stuff.
Then home to Virginia at the end of August. “What’s that pompous accent?” I’d hear from my southern friends before I was back to “Yis Maaaam” and “Nay-o Sir”. While hanging out in some Chevy or Ford. Driving to nowhere. Licking ice cream.
Talk. Talk. Talk.