the habit of being

I’m wearing the Jennifer Sweater. The Jennifer sent it to me.

I first met the Jennifer Sweater back in the summer of 1998, the first time Jenny and I met in the non-Internet world. That was a long long time ago. She had red hair then, and it was short. Her hair is brown and long(er) now. My hair’s always pretty much looked the same. Brown and frizzy and curly and dry and long.

Jennifer left the the Jennifer Sweater at my house back in ‘98. It was hiding under the bed. At the time, she was rather fond of it. She wore it so much it became known as the Jennifer Sweater. I didn’t just make that up.

She wanted it back.

I took my time about getting it back to her. I wore it to school once. It’s a really good sweater. Plain and black and soft. I didn’t want to give it back to her. She said she’d be really mad if I kept it though, so in, I don’t know, a month or two after she returned to Maryland, I got the sweater in the mail. It was painful.

I didn’t here much of the Sweater after that. I knew it got safely home to it’s owner, who was probably disinfecting it to get any traces of Georgia out. She wasn’t obsessed with Southern belle-ness at the time. It was a long long time ago and all. She said Georgia smelled.

The last time I was up in Waldorf, in August of this year, I noticed the Sweater in her closet. It wasn’t quite so loved anymore. She’d acquired a pink sweater. The poor Jennifer Sweater was being neglected. The Jennifer even said she’d GIVE IT TO ME. Wow. I was happy.

Somehow the Sweater failed to make it down South with us. I whined. The Jennifer said she’d mail it to me when she got home. I started planning which outfits I could wear it with.

She went home. Still no Sweater.

No Jennifer. No Sweater. It really sucked.

In some phone call between August and now, the Sweater came up. I said I wanted it. The Jennifer offered to give me the pink one instead. Argh.

I did finally get it though, in all its sincere Jenniferly greatness. Today. So it’s a happy day for Katharine. She sent me other things too. A necklace and an Edward Gorey book and a pocket-sized book of Emily Dickinson’s poems and a lovely photograph and some mint milano cookies. Smile.

Jennifer’s a lovely thing. She writes good essays too.