Big news, guys, this blog is turning 2! In blog years, that means it’s 21. We (Hannah and Julie) are also 21, so all three of us are going to the bar as soon as we’re done writing this post.
(Yes, we can now write about going to the bar without tarnishing our reputations to future employers. Hello, future employers. Isn’t it wonderful how responsible we’ve been all these underage years? That ends now.)
Two years ago, we unveiled this uber cool blog that was creatively named exactly our names, and last year we revamped it so it was easier for you to read and included a picture of us holding each other at the top of every page. I know what you’re thinking. How could we possibly take this thing to the next level when we’re already at level fucking 10?
Well, we’ve been playing coy with the idea of marketing ourselves for a while. Our tens of fans (mostly moms) have raved about our hilarity, and we’ve just smiled politely and blushed. Oh yeah, we have a blog I guess. We made a Facebook page for ourselves last year and took some shit from basically everyone we knew. But it was an encouraging kind of shit. People liked our writing, and we realized we kind of like our writing too. Which brings us to the most important point we may ever make.
PLEASE, PLEASE SHARE THIS BLOG. (Right now. Do it.)
In our many (two) years of blogging, we’ve noticed that viewership goes way up – like, doubling and tripling average views – when people share our links on Facebook. We’ve never really asked people to share before because we’re idiots, probably. But we’re asking now. We’re kind of begging, to be honest. Just look at us and our fans on top of Mt. Liberty. We all really, really want you to share this blog.
This is our senior year, guys. In nine months we’ll graduate into real-world oblivion. (Seriously, recent grads in nearby bars talk about graduation like it’s the fourth horseman of the apocalypse. Not exactly reassuring.) But in the meantime, we want to write some really good stuff for you. Honest stuff. Funny stuff. Maybe even some gross stuff. (Don’t think we’ve grown out of the fart jokes.) We believe in what we have to say, and we want to share our stories with as many people as we can.
We’ll be posting every Monday, like always. If you see something you like, share it on Facebook. Tell your mom about us. (Market research shows that moms are our golden target audience. Love you moms and fake moms and other people’s moms!) Send our link to your friends. Read out loud to your dog. Make a billboard ad like in Ferris Bueller. We’re aiming for level 11 here.
This blog season (sure, we’ll call it a season like we’re True Detective or something) is going to be bigger and better than it’s ever been before, but we want it to start with you guys. Are you secretly in love with one or both of us? SHARE THIS BLOG. Have you been or will you ever be a senior in college? SHARE THIS BLOG. Did you just find this website and feel really confused about whose arms are whose in our bio picture? SHARE THIS BLOG.
There’s only one option, really. You won’t regret it.
Now that we’re past the begging, we realize that you’re probably dying to know what we were up to this summer. You’re in luck, my friends.
Updates on Hannah, by Julie:
“Man, that girl is high off America right now,” my mom told me after she hung out with Hann within the first week that she was home from Spain. Hann basically walked off the plain and jumped directly onto a road bike. She trained, fundraised, and then kicked ass in the Pan-Mass Challenge, a charity bike ride through Massachusetts that raises insane amounts of money for cancer research. She was grinning and highfiving people for the entire 183-mile bike ride.
Hannah and I also spent an obscene amount of time together this summer. (You’re shocked, right?) On the off chance that she wasn’t biking/going to this one place in Newmarket to get an iced coffee, she was usually putting sunscreen on my shoulders at the beach.
We went sunset paddleboarding, did morning yoga, entertained friends, and sat by the ocean. (Once so hungover that we barely talked to each other the entire time). We cooked dinner together pretty much every night, and then I’d fall asleep on the couch during True Detective. Nannying triplets does that to you.
Updates on Julie, by Hannah:
This summer, Julie spent most of her time acquiring freckles. She wrangled 6-year-old triplet boys full-time, which I would consider a Herculean feat. (Sure, Hercules slayed the dragon with all the heads that kept growing back, but did he ever listen to the Mary Poppins soundtrack six times in a row?) Julie answered the question “why?” anywhere between 10 and 85 times a day. She also managed to get to Bikram Yoga in Portsmouth 4-5 times a week, which explains why I found her asleep on top of her covers before 10pm most nights.
Oh, Julie and I lived together in an apartment this summer, did I mention that? Probably not. Well, we did! It was half-adult and incredible! Julie taught me how to cook chicken in June, because I shit you not, I was not totally sure how to cook chicken then. (She only made fun of me a little bit.) Fresh off a semester of feeding herself in Ireland, Julie also flexed her cooking muscles in the broccoli, quinoa, stir fry, quesadilla, and pico de gallo departments.
Sometimes she wouldn’t even shower between sweaty yoga and making dinner. She didn’t smell great then, but that’s the level of domestic dedication I’m talking about here.
That’s all for now, folks. Share this post, like our page, and check back next week for the start of our senior chapter.