Everyone Needs a Lindsey

Last night Edgar and I went to Charlottesville, along with V* (Edgar's brother), J*, their baby and Edgar's Mom. We went to visit Edgar's sister, K*, who is at UVa law. For the first time, we all met her new boyfriend. I don't actually know if he is officially her boyfriend, you know how those things go. The best part about this guy is his name. He and I have the same name, although his is spelled Lindsay. He is this preppy, well dressed, dorky, down to earth, white boy with a private school past. He is probably a little dorkier than me (the guy did go to Dartmouth), but other than that he is the man version of me. He is a journalist which is pretty cool and the best part of his job, he says, is meeting new people. See! We are the same! Okay, I'm not a journalist, but I like people! Anyway, this kid is dorky cute. But isn't it ironic that Edgar and his sister are both with a Lindsey/Lindsay? It makes for a little confusion, I learned, because when someone says Lindsey, I turn and look. I am excited for K* because this guy seems really sweet. I hope they stay together because then at family get-togethers we can bond over our preppiness and inability to dance...unless this kid can dance. Then I am in trouble.

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