Our goal here at States of Snark is to visit all 50 states, providing commentary along the way. This weekend, Lizzie and I decided it was time to show you all around our hometown, Franklin, MA, which is about an hour south of where we each live now (which is pretty far away in Massachusetts terms). Without further ado, we present States of Snark: Where it began.Lizzie and I met in Mrs. Hawisher’s kindergarten class. I clearly remember her crying her little heart out on the first day of school, probably because she had some prescience and knew that our new teacher hated children. Mrs. Hawisher, turning her cool gaze first to the crying Lizzie, and then to the rather nerdishly eager me, gave me a little shove in Lizzie’s direction as if to say, “Make that Stop.” And though I will forever detest Mrs. Hawisher for putting me in the corner after I got upset because Tommy Robillard stole my crayons (she wouldn’t let me out until I spelled “brown” correctly. That is a hard one for a five year old. Seriously, I have a fucking steel-trap memory; you commit an egregious infraction like stealing my crayons, and I will remember that shit until the end of time, or until I get my revenge) I am forever grateful that she chose me to comfort the sobbing Lizzie, because we've been bffs ever since. 
Magically, Lizzie and I, turns out, lived a mere five minute walk from each other. Here is the intersection of Mount and Upper Union Streets. (Quick, it’s time for the ‘what would your porn name be’ game—your childhood pet and the street you grew up on—I’m Fuzzy Mount, nice to meet you.) It was a rather idyllic section of Franklin, and we spent many an afternoon wandering through the woods and looking under rocks for salamanders. Exciting, no? Please enjoy our trip through memory lane. Look out for the high tension wires.
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