Bitches Get Stitches

i’m sitting in a starbucks in royal oak,

a town where i spent many an hour in my youth
watching movies,
eating middle eastern food,
and smoking camel lights.
you know.
kid stuff.

a lot has changed. (camel lights don’t even exist anymore)
i’m not sure if it’s just living in pittburgh for a the past two years,
or the fact that it looks like a bunch of money got poured into this town.
but somehow,
i feel very underdressed.
like someone’s going to ask me to park their car or something.

i miss the dirtier, poorer royal oak of my youth.

i digress.

this is my third trip to michigan in as many weeks,
doing the whole family duty thing.
mowing grass.
chopping up trees.
moving old people around,
both automotively and manually.

i’m hoping to make this my last trip
before i actually move back here.

last week, while driving home,
i wrote a hilarious little blog post on my iphone,
but the wordpress app ate it.
fucker.

it felt dishonest to try to reconstruct it,
so i’ll just say this: it involved heartfelt comments about my family,
observations about michiganders’ relationship to food a the road,
my current knitting project,
and a cinnabon.

don’t you hate my wordpress app as well?

now, i’m going to eat dinner with this fine lady.

this is mallory (non-knitter),
a good friend from college,
and soon to be doctor.
(i’ve been calling her dr. mally mal since she got into med school)

it’s been almost two years since we’ve been in each other’s company,
but she’s that kind of friend where you pick up right where you left off,
laughing and gossiping like we were 18 all over again.

it feels good to know i have a friend like her in the world.

i hope you do too.

**tomorrow, i’ll show you my big bag o yarn. promise.