I have this friend, Jenn. I met her in high school. We were in chorus together, I was an alto, she was a soprano. Despite that, I thought I'd like her. I remember watching how she would joke around in class and thinking "I'll bet if we were friends we'd laugh a lot." I was totally right, that's EXACTLY what our friendship has been like. We did have our arguments, of course. Jenn is a firm supporter of the "Double N" movement, wherein a Jennifer, when shortening her name, should use two n's at the end. I take my stance on the extreme opposite end. I think that extra n is just redundant. Horribly redundant. But, through all the strife that differing basic belief structures like these might have caused, we always managed to laugh a lot.
As it happens when two friends graduate high school and one goes on to wander the country aimlessly searching for some vague wisp of purpose in life (um, ahem, me) and one goes on to get her Ph.D in Economics with an almost impossible immediacy (that's MY friend, Jenn!) we have lost touch for years at a time. But when we get together, either for a random night of karaoke in Ohio (circumstances, my friends, circumstances- and yes we did sing 867-530niyeeyiyeeyine) or her beautiful wedding, we go right back to the status quo, which usually includes bizarre looks from people standing around us.
Recently I started signing onto a chat through my email client, The Almighty And Omniscient Google, where Jenn also has an account. I don't quite have conversations with anyone like the conversations I have with Jenn. This one started off in reference to my little status message thing, which was "Purple Lightning" (in response to a friend's "Yellow Thunder" - he's always changing his status to make comments on mine, so I was doing it back to him, though I had no idea what his, or mine for that matter, meant)
jenn: does that precede purple rain?
me: aaaaahahahahahahahaaaa. no.
but thanks for putting that song in my head.
jenn: i do what i can. it's not much
me: it's enough, though... it's really more than enough.
jenn: well, at least i am adequate
me: don't sell yourself short, jenn. not in this economy.
jenn: but i am short! i can't even see over my cubicle wall without standing on my tiptoes
me: that's what heels are for! that's the economy "boost" we need!
jenn: ahh... of course!
me: 700 billion dollar heels!
jenn: call congress!
heels for everyone!
and they can be from payless!
jenn: we can save the country billions!
well, i want the jimmy choo's
and you should get them too for thinking of it
but no name-brands for everyone else, because they were no help
me: they really weren't!
jenn: god we're brilliant... i'm not sure what the world would do without us
me: i love how our conversations go
jenn: it's that special synergy that happens when jennifers come together
me: that it is, my friend. that it is.
Please understand, I don't actually expect that this conversation will be very funny to anyone else, but it had me in stitches. Specifically the part where she insists that no one else gets name brand shoes because they were no help.
And now... some pictures of yarn, a new bathroom floor and a new baby!
Upstairs by WollSchnegge wrap that I'm knitting with some new Malabrigo lace I bought. I LOVE LOVE LOVE knitting this.
Three skeins of Socks that Rock that I bought IN THE STORE (!!!) at Tricoter in Seattle. That one in the middle is called SeaMar, it's a custom color dyed just for Seattle.
For those of you who have seen our bathroom, you'll know it as that pink-tiled monstrosity. It was PAVED in pink tiles, walls and ceiling, and had these teeny tiny white and black tiles on the floor. All that has changed. Here's our current floor (with bonus paint swatch of a possible wall color!)
And finally, last but not least, a fuzzy picture of Ken's new nephew, born on Monday night! YAY FOR KEVIN MICHAEL! He's so cool...
Here's the boyfriend with his new nephew. Note the adorable little smile on Ken's face.
And a very tired me with the kid. Love that kid.
This weekend we go apple picking, and possibly paint our bathroom. Oh, and I have to buy a car. That too. In this easy, smooth, warm and fuzzy economical climate. That'll be a breeze, I'm sure.