stink at Scrabble. I never want to play. It is long and boring and
ridulously obnoxious . . . unless I'm in a car for five hours with my
sisters. . . then scrabble becomes the most exciting thing in the
world. That game is what got me to Worthington Glacier. . . a little
scrabble, a little oohing and aahing over the scenery, and then my
turn again.
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