Saturday, September 23, 2006

Heaven is your boyfriend asking you...

"so, I really need to get my roommate to drive me to Michael's. You should come!"



There's nothing I like more than some craftiness. This whole lil blog here was for me to take pictures of my knitting and show them to my friends. I had fooled myself into pretending that people were interested in my fibrous habits. I had also fooled myself into thinking that I have THAT MUCH TIME on my hands to do enough knitting to show people things so that I'm updating my blog with the due tenderness it deserves.

Now that I live much closer to a kickin' yarn shop, and the temperatures are falling, I AM interested in getting into the cozy crafting. I'm totally into watching TV with a glass of wine with my needles clicking. It's the best 'me time' a girl could ask for.

So, of course, when your boyfriend needs to get some matting for a print he'd like to frame, those eternal words just made me swoon with delight. OF COURSE, I would LOVE for you to talk your dear roommate into driving out to Falls Church so I can tag along and buy yarn and buttons and beads and JOY!

I feel like that was a big moment in our relationship. A first date. A first kiss. THE TIME HE ASKS YOU TO ACCOMPANY HIM TO A CRAFT STORE. IN HIS OWN RIGHT AND SOBER MIND.

I think this all comes down to a repayment of karma for the World Cup. Because that wasn't fair, not having a boyfriend for that long. He just bowed out of all boyfriend duties because there was a ball to kick. I may have watched some matches because, HELLO, THERE ARE SOME GLUTES ON THOSE BOYS. But otherwise, no thanks.

So please, karma gods. Allow his roommate to not think he's lost his mind, or that I had a hand in persuading two boys to take me to a craft warehouse so that I might skip gleefully through its aisles of fake flowers, embroidery thread and paintbrushes. So I can run my hands over every skein of yarn, every pad of paper and every ream of fabric. It's my own version of being Veruca Salt, skipping in a red dress and tights throughout a craft store, touching everything and wishing for it all to be mine. Only I would be a teensy bit more polite, and probably not demand that my parents buy it all for me. But still.

Do not take this moment away from me.

It just wouldn't be fair.

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