me too

This piece was inspired by the art of Magic Jelly. We share a love of anything vintage.

I have this friend name Brene Brown. You might know of her. She's become pretty well known over the last few years.  She studies shame and vulnerability.  Sounds morbid, but she's not at all a morbid person. Quite the opposite.

Anyway, a few months back I had somebody leave a mean comment here on the blog and it really upset me. So I tweeted some vague thing about hating being so vulnerable and hurt. Brene sent me a direct message that basically just said she hates it too.

Earlier this week somebody left a nasty comment for Brene. Really mean stuff about her appearance that had nothing to do with the message she was giving.  It upset her. So I direct messaged her that, yeah, it sucks. It happens to me too.

Another really good friend sent me a text saying that her life has completely changed since she started connecting with other people through social media.  She lives in a very small town. She never realized there was a whole world of women out there struggling with the same stuff she struggles with.

Social media is a double edged sword. As you read this, I'm guessing there are other things you should be doing. Chores. It's easy to waste a lot of time online. Believe me, I have internet loafing down to a science. 

But I believe the good of having the internet out weighs the bad because of one big reason that tips the scales.

Connection.

I live half my life in total fear of rejection.  I care. I wish I didn't. I wish I could blow off nasty comment and people who don't like me. (Bastards.) 

But I can't.  I care.

And it really helps me to know that other people are as scared as I am.  It helps to know that other mothers worry about not being what their kids need them to be. It helps to know that other artists hold their breath when they put their art out for other people to see.

I have met so many wonderful people through the internet. I have friends from all over the globe. That thought makes me so happy.  I have learned things I never would have discovered if I didn't connect via the world wide web.

For me, the real value in having this network of amazing people is that I constantly hear those precious words: me too.

I've learned to be very picky about what I expose myself to on the web. There are so many beautiful blogs out there, that look like the nuclear family living in a Pottery Barn catalog eating food made by Wolfgang Puck everyday.  I'm looking for authenticity.  I much prefer the blogs where the children are running around the  backyard in their diapers and the mom is still in her pajamas at two in the afternoon. Because, you see, this tells me that I'm not the only freak living in a world of normal people.  

This is not to say that I don't like pretty. I do. I try to surround myself with beauty. It's just that at my stage of life, beauty is peppered with dirty diapers and peanut butter on the bar stools. 

So today, I just want to say to you, me too.  I'm scared and vulnerable and half looney. It's not just you.

This is Brene talking about all this stuff in her second TED talk she did a few months ago.  She's says it so much better than I ever could.

I decided to bump the final workshop class post in order to write about this because it's been heavy on my mind. You can learn more about Prospector Artisan Letterpress class on Friday!

hope

Download this free wall paper here.

Sometimes I like people more than they like me.  I'm pretty sure it has to do with the paint ball splat to the face approach I have when I first meet people.

I'm working on that by the way. The mystic space between Ice Queen and long lost friend alludes me.

And I gotta tell ya, it really doesn't feel very good to like someone more than they like you.  It hurts my spirit and it makes me want to stay in the safe cushy place called home where my children and husband love me like crazy cakes.

But a girl like me needs to stretch her wings every so often and fly away from the nest with other like minded girls for a nice lunch or something of that nature.

These other girls, well, they don't exactly come knocking on my door and I must seek them out.

So when I splat them in the face and scare them away it hurts my spirit.  My mother likes to remind me that as a child I couldn't care less of what others thought. I'd shrug my shoulders, say "their loss" and run off to the next exciting thing.

I'm thinking she has to still be in me somewhere, this little girl.  I'm looking for her. I'm digging up old photos and laughing at her antics.  I'm hoping she will teach me how to love myself enough to say, "their loss."

"To love is to risk not being loved in return. To hope is to risk pain. To try is to risk failure, but risk must be taken because the greatest hazard in life is to risk nothing." - source unknown

Please enjoy my May wall paper. It's free to download here.

a true friend stabs you in the front

I have some pretty freaking amazing friends.

No kidding. I have a capital set of cronies.  I'm just lucky I guess.

Some of these exceptional people are navigating rough seas in this wild ride we call life.

And I just want to say to them- damn it all.  I wish I could lift your burdens.  

Problem is, I'm short on wisdom.  

But I got some chocolate and a listening ear.

And I will always tell you the truth as I see it.  Always.

A true friend stabs you in the front. -Oscar Wilde

i don't know

download this image here

I have two friends struggling with life right now.  One girl lives thousands of miles away. The other lives very close.  One girl has been my good friend for some years. I meet the other girl through this blog but we have never met in person. One friend has a wayward husband, the other a wayward teen.  Both friends mean a lot to me.

In the last week, both these friends have come to me with their trials.  They have laid them at my feet.  I have listened to the desperation in their voices. I have worried and fretted along with them.

And I feel so very inadequate. I have no experience regarding the issues they are facing.  I don't know why they have been given such heavy burdens. I just don't know.  And I've told them as such.

I've been thinking and thinking of something wise or profound to say to these friends to make a small difference. I've racked my brain. I've got nothing.

Sometimes I wonder what exactly I have learned in this life.  I find myself, more often than not, simply perplexed by what goes on.  I know people that have the gift of perspective. They always seem to be able to help me see things a little clearer. I'm not one of these people. I usually make things worse by saying, "Man, that sucks" or "I just don't get it."

So, after much thought, I decided to create a little graphic for them.  It's a small offering considering the magnitude of the issues they are facing. I don't know how to solve their problems. But I know they will need courage for the battle.

I wish I could wrap up courage in a box and give it to them. Instead I will remind them to find it within themselves everyday.

And I'll be here to listen when they need to talk.

You are free to download my graphic too. Put it on your mirror or fridge or tucked away where only you can see it.  

"Courage dosen't always roar. Sometimes courage is the quiet voice at the end of the day saying, "I will try again tomorrow." - Mary Anne Radmacher

friend is such an understatement

Lately I have been struck by the beauty of all my friends. Their grace astounds me. Their talents impress me. Their generosity leaves me speechless.

If you are one of my cronies, reading this blog, because you support me in all I do, I'm telling you now, you aren't just the cherry on top of my life. You are the cakey goodness that holds everything up.

rach, me, jenny

Music Playlist at MixPod.com

I like the way you’re not afraid
You’ve got the world planned in your mind
People say you cannot do
But they don’t know a friend like you

The girl you love has gone away
Still too young to know her heart
She’ll return her love renewed
Cause she’ll never find a friend like you

When I had no one to call
All the world had shut me down
I showed up at your door so blue
Thank God I had a friend like you

Any times I’ve gone without
A home, a meal, a pair of shoes
If you had three you’d give me two
There ain't no other friend like you

I've been so stressed lately. I've got soooo many Secondsister orders to get in the post. I've got to finish off my studio and be done with it. I've got family and church obligations and I've got a husband leaving for China.

On Saturday, I had planned to work like mad to try and get ahead of the game a little. Jenny had other plans for me.

She reminded me that we had scheduled facials.

We laid on parallel tables and got those facials. We didn't talk. We just enjoyed.

We went to lunch because Jenny takes her meals very seriously. We also got macarons. Jenny is even more serious about her desserts. And who was I to argue with macarons?

We talked a little.

We went to get manicures and pedicures. I knew I wasn't getting home to my studio anytime soon.

We sat in the spa chairs, not talking, reading our People magazines.

We went shopping. Sometimes we browsed together asking the other's opinion. Sometimes we wandered off on our own.

We got home around dinnertime.

I got zero work done on Saturday.

And I just wanted to say, thanks Jenny.

Thanks for giving me a day away from my studio.

Thanks for the laughs.

And most of all, thanks for the quiet times.

You always know just what I need even if I don't know it myself.

"Love is friendship that has caught fire. It is quiet understanding, mutual confidence, sharing and forgiving. It is loyalty through good and bad times. It settles for less than perfection and makes allowances for human weakness." Ann Landers

FYI

wynona robison

If you didn't heed my advice and come to Spark....

brooke, gladys, margie, me

big mistake. BIG mistake.

Just sayin'.

truth

Let us begin by committing ourselves to the truth-

to see it like it is and to tell it like it is-

to find the truth, to speak the truth and live the truth.

I'm going to level with you here.

I'm in over my head.

I've been running a show that is too big for me to handle. I'm at my limit. Strung out. Kaput.

And Jenny is to blame. She is the one that said, "You can do it! You have to do it! Everyone will help." Dear sweet girl that she is. God love her, she's just a sucker for a good party and she couldn't abide the fact that I wasn't going to throw the Meeker Extravaganza this year.

She talked me into it. Damn her.

I've have spent the last few weeks of my life in a haze, choking on what I had bit off.

Rosie worked diligently to save my sanity. She picked up the slack. She changed poopy diapers and loaded the dishwasher and and cut and pasted and arranged things to look just the way I like them. She is a saint and when I look at her I think I can make out the slight aura of a halo about her head.

But still...

I had a moment earlier this week when I swore that I was going to call everything off. No party. No Secondsister Winter collection. No church stuff. No more screaming baby. No more getting showered in the morning.

My little sister sent Thom an ant farm for his birthday. Isn't she sweet? Isn't she just a peach? I was so thankful I sent her daughter a full pack of Lick-Um-Stick sugar powder.

Anywho, she sent these ants and I was sitting, in despair, on The Boy's bed watching the ants. Let me tell you, those ants, they are hard workers. They seemed to be in a frenzy to move the sand around to create a little cozy space deep down in the habitat. They moved the sand grain by grain until they had it just so.

In my delirium, I realized something. And bear with me here, because this may seem like a very odd analogy, but like I said, I was a little crazed at the time. I realized that I could really learn something from those ants.

For the past month all I've heard is bad news. This person is getting divorced. This person's child has scarlet fever. Bankruptcy, family fights, death, rehab. No one had good news to tell me. I was getting down right depressed.

I realized Jenny was right. We needed a party. We needed to create a cozy little space where things were good and fun and lighthearted. And the way to make it happen was to take it on grain by grain.

So Rosie and I worked like the ants. At times crawling over each other to get the job done. And Jenny, because she is true blue, showed up at the eleventh hour to bust her tail and help us out.

And then the guests showed up. Fifty or so people with smiles and veggie platters and baba ganoush. And some of them had really good news to share. This person is pregnant. That girl just sold her first novel. This couple is being considered by two birth mothers! Weight loss, new jobs, goals met, birthdays!

And in just a few hours, it all became worth it. I nestled with my friends in our happy little space in the Universe and we celebrated. AND we raised a nice chunk of change for a family in need. I always have a raffle with really great prizes donated by all my uber talented friends and this year we raised more money than ever before.

I find that each year, more than anything, this party, this crazy party, reminds me what great friends I have. They are generous and funny and interesting and I really don't feel worthy.

So the truth is this:

It is only possible for me to live a creative, artful, fulfilling life because I am surrounded by people willing to help me. In a way, my entire life is photo shopped before you see it here. I seldom mention all the dirty work behind the scenes, but you should know, the truth is, there is dirty work to do and I have an army of amazing cronies that are there for me.

So if you are reading this, and you are one of those cronies, I just want to say thanks.

I owe you one.

The quote at the beginning of this post was taken from Richard Nixon's nomination acceptance speech.

Now that you know my secrets, the truth of how I do all the things I do, we must never speak of this again. I really like the photoshopped me.

sugar and spice

Hello there.

I'm reporting to you today from the surface of the sun, better known as a little town, a few hours outside of Vegas called, St. George.

What, you may ask, could bring me to such a place when the temperature is such that your underwear feel like Saran Wrap? Only one thing could get me here.

The Hardman Family

You know when you see a photo of a amputee crossing the finish line of a marathon or a blind person graduating law school? You know that look on their face? Well here's my photo.

We did it. After years and years of struggle, the Hardmans and the Meekers finally have our babies. Emmie was born three weeks after Birdie. Jill was also at the birth of her little girl. It is so nice to have a friend that knows exactly what I've been through.

I'm not sure if it is okay to select your kids friends for them. In fact, I'm kind of opposed to it. BUT, there's just no way around it. Emmie and Ellie are two peas in a pod, sugar and spice, Ying and Yang, salt and pepper, and well you get the idea. They really don't have much choice in the matter. They will be best friends.

Thom and Josh decided to be friends all on their own, with no coercion from their parents.

We are spending all our time this weekend, indoors under the air conditioning vents. The children are playing in the basement and we are sitting around talking and laughing. This works for us. Our friendship is based on finding happiness in misery. We met during law school.

I so wish they lived closer.

kari & emily

This is Kari.

I first meet Kari in Thailand. We roomed together and on our first night we stayed up talking until two in the morning. Kari has two adopted boys. We had a lot to talk about.

Kari said some things to me while we were in Thailand that I will never forget. On a balmy, tropical night in Asia, we were up late, again, talking. I was lamenting my barren womb. She said, "If you don't feel that you are getting any answers to prayers, it may mean that God is saying 'just sit still, I have plans'." I figure Kari uttered those words to me just days after Amelie was conceived.

Kari is in Carlsbad for a few days on vacation with her family. We got together yesterday and played at the pool. In the Evening, Emily Falconbridge and her family meet us at the beach. I love these two women for the role they played in Amelie's birth and also for the friendship they give me.

Kari's a great photographer in her own right. Baby Ian has been photographed more than the late great Michael Jackson.

We had fattening Mexican food on the beach. Heaven.

Yindi is the cutest little mother around. She was covered in sand but she cried until we let her hold Amelie, in her lap, on her terms.

This here is mischief personified. Notice how the boys were too busy to give me a smile, but Elegant Ivy was much obliged to flash her pearly whites even in her skivvies.

Kari is also a quilt maker. She made Amelie this amazing blanket. I tell ya, there really isn't anything like a homemade gift. Especially a quilt. When I think of all the hours Kari spent on this I want to cry.

I so wish that Kari lived closer. She's a keeper.

Emily and her husband Mic are headed back to Australia in just a few weeks. Emily wants to have her baby there and be close to her family. We are all hoping and praying that they come back soon. Southern California just won't be the same without the Falconbrige family.

regret

Tara Whitney Photography

Dear Bead Shop Girl-

I am writing here because I am the gutless wonder. I am writing because I cannot sleep. I wish I could rewind the day.

You may not recognize me by my name. Come to think of it, I don't know your name either. But we do know each other. We love to talk shop when I come in. You give me the inside scoop on what's new and beautiful in gems and findings. I fill you in on what fun things I've found in my travels. We speak the same language. We get each other.

I was excited to come by today and bring Amelie. I knew that our babies would be about the same age. I remember when you told me you were having a girl. You beamed.

Please forgive me. Please forgive my stupid, callous remarks.

"You lost the baby? Weren't you kind of far along? Wow that's hard. When can you start trying again?"

Who says these things? Who is that insensitive? There I stood with my pink, bright eyed, cooing, healthy baby. There you stood with empty arms.

If I could have put my own discomfort to the side, I would have taken your hand in mine and looked you straight in the eye and just said, "I am sorry."

Because I am. I know the pain of empty arms and there are no words that can make that go away, but I want you to know that I'm here and I can't sleep because I'm wishing ever so badly that I could rewind the day.

What I'd give to rewind the day.

Sincerely,

April

much ado about amelie (and me)

Things around my house have been a little, well, messy. It's hard to stay on top of housework when you have a new baby. I mean, I put it down as a great day if I have time to shower. If personal hygiene is on the back burner you know I'm not sweeping no floors or dumping the trash. Uh uh.

This girl has her priorities.

And so do my friends. I run with a group of pretty swanky chicks. They bathe almost everyday.

They told me it was time for a shower.

In doing so they gave me motivation to bathe myself and get gussied.

The favors were little bags of fancy chocolates.

Of course it was a bird theme.

I couldn't believe how many people came and how many gifts Amelie received. (If I call them Amelie's gifts it helps me feel just a little less embarrassed at the obscene amount of presents I was given.)

I absolutely HATE to be in the lime light at a party, but I loved seeing all my friends. I felt like a rock star. My kelly green wedgies and big hoop earrings helped with that.

During my infertile years (who am I kidding? I'm still infertile) I hated baby showers. Let me illiterate that. Hated. Baby. Showers. To this day, if I know that games are going to be played at a shower I have to nod out and contribute to the group gift. I just can't smell the poop stain and guess what baby food it is. Can't do it.

But this wasn't really a shower that my friends threw me. It was a celebration of life and birth and adoption and family and most of all friendship. Because that's what it is really all about. Friendship between women and the bond we have through motherhood. I'd say misery loves company, but that kind of misses the mark. More like, the more the merrier.

I went to bed Saturday night thinking of all the people that came to share in my happiness. I recreated the room in my head. I went around each table and thought of each person. The last thought I can remember was that I am the luckiest girl around.

Then I woke up forty minutes later to feed Amelie.

I know. I couldn't believe this cake either. It's insanely cute AND it was soooo good. My friend Shelley made this for me. Shelley and I go way back. I almost cried on it when I saw it, but I thought it might gross out some of those swanky friends I was telling you about.

What a day I had. What. A. Day. Thanks to everyone who helped Jenny give me the best party ever.

I think, at this very moment, I just might be the happiest person I know.

That's really something.

ando and friends

Have you ever met someone and thought damn, we should have been friends years ago?

We hung out with the Davis family yesterday. Lucky us. They have an amazing beach house with an ocean view. When we walked up to their home all the doors were wide open and the ocean breeze was billowing the cotton drapes. We knocked on the door frame.

Their son, Noah, is about the same age as Thom. The boys spent the afternoon battling the plants in the yard with light sabers and giggling in the playroom. Thom asked me twenty times last night if I would please call Noah's mom and see when he can play again.

Ashley is a tiny little elf of a girl, but evidently she can really shred the waves. (I don't really speak surfer lingo so don't try that phrase out on your friends.) She also sews up a storm in her studio up stairs. She is reusing old clothing items to make funky handbags and pillows. She also has a passion for building furniture. I have been coveting the low red bench she made for her front porch ever since I laid eyes on it.

Andy is the fine artist of the family. He has worked for Toes on the Nose, Roxy and most recently, Patagonia. His style is free and hip and everything I want my art to be. He is modest and understated and a real family man at heart. Andy owns a clothing company called Ando and Friends. They have a slew of rockin' t-shirts and other sundries.

If only I was as cool as Andy and Ashley.

Does being friends with them kind of make me cool by association?

I was allowed to wander around their amazing home, snapping photos at will. Here's the result of yesterday's camera fun.

And you gotta check out Ando and Friends.

I am waiting with baited breath for their children's line to come out. My kids will be sporting some Ando attire.

"My kids". Plural. I like the sound of that don't you?

needling

Sugar Daddy was off with the Search and Rescue folk this weekend to climb rocks and practice hero work. Thom and I stayed behind to find fun to be had.

We kicked off our weekend on Friday by having Thom's blood drawn for a routine anemia check which, I'm sorry to report, lead to another trip to Mc Donalds.

After Thom was tucked in and sleeping soundly, I gathered up all my embroidery thread and headed to the fluffy comfort of my bed to watch Little Dorrit on the lap top and get organized for a rather ambitious embroidery project I am starting. I search the house for all errant needles and put them in the little wooden cylinders, ready to be used at a moments notice.

I love organization. I wish I was better at it.

On Sunday evening Thom and I headed over to Jenny's house for a casual bar-be-que. I found that I was feeling a little peevish after a weekend of single parenting and so I took out my angst on the Hurst family. I went from one child to the next, needling them and teasing until I got some kind of response. Andre and Jenny know me well enough to just let these moods take their course and they happily offered up their children and each other as victims.

Sugar Daddy returned home later that night, swooping in like good heros do, to save the day and play with Thom until he was tuckered out and reaching for his bed.

One weekend down, four more to go until B-day!

cronies

companion; partner; comrade; crony; confidant; ally;compeer; peep; playmate; chum; cobber; buddy; associate; colleague; confrere; compatriot; consociate; cohort; mate; friend

I asked Jenny what she thought of a baby name I like. She said it sounded like a hillbilly name, but it didn't matter because any name I choose she would eventually love.

We were on a run. We have great talks when we run together. We once ran a half marathon together. Jenny wanted to stop running at mile eleven. I told her no, just keep running. When the finish line came into view, she sprinted ahead and crossed before me.

I forgave her for that. Mostly.

Another time we went on vacation and she took care of the cat while we were away. He pooped and peed all over the place and Jenny had to deal with it. I should just mention that she DOES NOT like animals.

She forgave me. Kind of.

There was also the time I didn't make it to her daughter's baptism.

Still paying for that one.

The very best time spent with Jenny is when we say nothing at all. Every year we while away our summers at the beach. We arrange our chairs arm to arm and stretch out our legs. We read fashion magazines and eat snacks. And if something interesting happens to walk by, we don't speak. We just tilt our sunglasses and give the "look".

With us, words are superfluous.

**************************************

Here's a little peek at what I have been working on at my bench. I have been thinking about adding to my adoption line for some time now. I finally came up with the perfect piece.

Inscribed in Latin: "Auxilio Ab Alto" (with help from on high)

It's very simple and very wearable. Of all the pieces I have created, this one most closely reflects the feelings in my heart regarding adoption. I hope other people feel the same.

It will be part of the adoption line, however, I think most of my adoption piece can be used in other ways. For example, this ring could be given as a good luck gift to anyone starting a new endeavour.

I'm not sure when the spring collection will be available. Hopefully by the first part of April.

rosa colored goggles

I sat yesterday in a restaurant booth across from my good friend Rosa. Over steaming bowls of Tortilla soup, in broken English, she recounted her childhood experiences with a alcoholic father. As a scrawny seven-year-old girl she would wait late into the night for her father to come home so that she could try to keep him from beating her mother.

Rosa is from Oaxaca Mexico. She is a Zapotec Indian. She speaks Zapoteco. Spanish is her second language. English, her third. Her family still farms beans in a village about three hours out of Oaxaca where she grew up.

Rosa's life has not been an easy one. The circumstances that landed her in the United States are many and varied. She has worked and toiled and scrapped to build a life for her family. And she is only 34. She is three months younger than me and yet she has seen so much. I often think that my life has gone by fast. Rosa must need a pair of goggles for the whirlwind life she has lead so far.

Here's the amazing part.

Rosa is happy. She is quick to smile and easy to make laugh. She is hopeful. She is benevolent. She bears no bitter seeds of remorse or guilt. She has taken the lemons of life and made a huge batch of guacamole which she shares with everyone she meets.

I love Rosa. Every time I see her I get an overwhelming desire to look for all the happy things in my life.

That, and I'm also made to feel like a neanderthal. Zapotecs are tiny people. I don't think Rosa's hands are much larger than Thom's and she doesn't even clear my shoulders. I guess I should just be happy that I can reach the cereal down from the shelf.

On the happiness note, I would like to say, a cheerful thing about my life right now is the chocolate that I received after my pleas for "down day" donations. Thanks to everyone who cared enough about me to send a little sweetness my way. It really did help lift my spirits. Cocoa was actually discovered by the Mayans (also a Mesoamerican civilization) so it all ties in so nicely.

lola b.

I sat once on a bench in a park, alone with my thoughts. From seemingly nowhere, a child appeared. She stood in front of me with her pom pom pigtails standing at dog ear attention, her little brown belly peaked out from the bottom of her shirt. I thought at first that she had mistaken me for her mother, but as she inspected me I could see that that wasn't the case.

"Hi", I finally said out of discomfort.

"Hi", she said without any apparent discomfort.

"What's your name?", I asked.

"Lola B." She made no indication that she would be moving along anytime soon.

I leaned forward and looked left and then right wondering where her mother might be.

"Hi Lola B. I'm April." I mumbled, taking note that the name Lola was back in vogue.

"I like your earrings." She informed me.

"Oh thank you, I made them."

Lola moved closer and inched her little bottom up on the bench uncomfortably close to me. She looked up and smiled. I smiled back. She kicked her legs. Pink Mary Jane's went back and forth, back and forth. She twiddled her thumbs. She had chipped polish on her tiny nails.

"Purple is my favorite color." She said after a while.

I was still looking around for a parent.

"Purple is my favorite color." She said again.

"Oh, mine too! That's neat. We have the same favorite color. Where's your mommy?"

She pointed across the park to a strikingly beautiful black woman holding a baby in a sling, engaged in an animated conversation with another woman. Her large hoop earrings flopped from side to side.

"Oh." It was apparent that Lola wasn't going anywhere anytime soon. So we sat. I stared at strangers through dark sunglasses and Lola swung her feet. We didn't talk. We smiled at each other every now and then. We were just girls together on a park bench one afternoon.

It was nice.

partners in crime

I am from the school of thought that every girl needs a best friend. Sisters don't count.

You need someone that you have chosen and that has chosen you. Because you are better together than apart.

This is Jenny. Jenny is my Ethel. Why do I get to be Lucy? Because this is my blog and I have red hair. That's why. Also, Jenny's husband is bald, like Fred.*

I know that Jenny loves me because when I run my mouth, as I am prone to do, she says "Aprrriiiillll!" which is her nice way of saying "Shut it sister." She saves me from myself.

And once, on New Year's Eve some years ago, I got sick and threw up in a public bathroom and SHE CLEANED IT UP!!! In. A. Public. Bathroom. True story.

But mostly I know she loves me because she tells me the truth. She tells me when I'm wrong and she listens to me when I complain about people who bug me. I can complain all I want to her because she's a vault. She will never trash talk someone, which I actually find quite annoying, but I know that deep down she is sending them bad voodoo vibes for me.

So why am I just now, after close to a year of blogging, mentioning Jenny? Well, I guess it's because there are a few things in my life that I hold close to my heart and I am a little reluctant to share. But I think it is time.

World, I got her first. Go get your own Jenny. Believe me, you need one.

* Guaranteed, Jenny just thought "Appprrriiilll!" in her head.