One more night (tonight) at work and then I’m off for four days. Tomorrow night I’m going to Janine’s Dulaan knit-in (has anyone lately written about how freaking great Janine is? And it’s not just because she is generous and warm and sweet, but she’s also smart and funny and a brilliant designer, and she’s the best thing to come out of the Pacific Northwest in a long time. Ryan, darlin’, I know you miss her. But I’m so glad you introduced us via email those months ago). Oh, and you did all see Cuzzin Tom has a website now, right? He’s going to Mon-frickin’-golia, as Ryan says. I can’t even imagine how the internet works out there. (Aside: When my friend was in Ethiopia, I was trying to teach her dad how to use email. He never quite got it, because I was never effective at explaining exactly HOW the email knew how to find her. He thought it was like throwing a letter into the wind and hoping it found the right continent.)
Oh, and then after the knit-in, Lala’s band The Whoreshoes is playing at the Odeon (really late, like when-the-Spaniards-eat late). You should come. They’re super. And I would say that even if I weren’t all head-over-heels. (Although if I weren’t, and didn’t know her, and saw the band, I’d totally hit on her. It was bound to happen eventually.)
And hey, while I’m a mad and crazy linker, a huge shout-out goes to Tracy, who rescued Lala the other night while she was searching her trunk for the change needed to order the best burrito in the world. Tracy said something like, "Not to sound weird and all, but are you Lala? Rachael’s girlfriend?" And then they chatted and she gave Lala the last fifty cents she was short. I owe you, girl. Come to the show, I’ll buy you a drink.
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