Matchy Match

This is my boy Gio, from Georgia, not the state of my birth, but the country.  On Thursday morning, I walked into breakfast and sat down by him and some of the other volunteers from the Villa.  I looked over to say good morning and Andrew (another volunteer who, coincidently, is from Tennessee, the Volunteer state) was like, hey you guys match.  If any of you saw the crazy Lost finale, I kind of had a flashback moment (although it was a great deal less thrilling and suspenseful than, say, Sawyer remembering that he let Juliette fall to her death) to the days at Union when Taryn and/or Lyndsi would walk past the window in the hall and we would randomly be wearing purple, or red, or blue and then we would point and gasp and oooh and ahhh but definitely never have a good laugh for a minute or 2 in my office.... Anyways, they affectionately called this, "Matchy Match!"

So, after I caught my breath, I was like dude we're takin a pic at supper. I feel that matchy match is a sacred term that will have to be left in the good 'ol US of A, and for two hardcore white dudes like Gio and myself, something like that gettin out might hurt our street cred in the hoods of Florence.  Anyways, its not like I would orchestrate a mass everyone-wear-the-same-color-for-my-goodbye-party-at-Blue-Orchid or anything...

Or maybe I would...  Anyways, it's been 2 weeks since I said goodbye to Union, and yesterday I was reminded of the GREAT times I have had with all y'all and that some crazy little traditions aren't as far away as they seem.  The adventure is just beginning here in Europe, but I feel privileged to have shared so many memories with my peeps from the 402 :-)  And someone please tell Jen that she is featured on my blog...