Dear Michelle Obama,

Let me start this letter off by saying that I never voted for, nor did I support, your husband. The only reason why I do so now is because I believe strongly in respecting the office of the President, and frankly, being pissed off does me no good when my country is $2 trillion dollars in debt and owned by half of Asia. (No offense Asia.)

Despite all of this, I find myself needing to write to you in support of your recent fashion choices. Due to the recent economic struggles the US has been facing, I was taken aback when I saw here, here, and even here stories regarding your choice in sleeveless attire.

As someone with a mother so puritanical that she would not let me wear sleeveless things until she was 16, I am an odd defender of your sleeveless conduct, however, I feel I must let you know of my support. First off, you have lovely arms. Your emphasis on physical fitness will be an asset to a nation that is having some difficulty with staying healthy. Second, I have noticed, as has the media, that since the election, you have been re-wearing and re-using outfits. Seeing as we are in the middle of an economic pickle, I am delighted to see that you are capable of doing something I am not-wearing the same thing more than twice. Third, it’s your f-ing prerogative. What you wear is what you wear. Yes, it is winter. Indeed, your husband was addressing congress. However, it was indoors, and it wasn’t a state of the union address-it was a speech to the bicameral body we all know and love. As it was not short, ugly, or low cut, I have no problem with such “tawdry” coverings.

This sudden attack of your sleeveless garb has proven that you suffer from what every first lady from Lady Bird to Barbara to Hilary to Laura has to endure since Jacqueline Kennedy- if you are smart, educated, and maybe not a touchy-feely-arm-decoration of a first lady, you are tarred and feathered at any and every possible opportunity. This, coupled with the lack of respect for DR. Biden, not Mrs. Biden, has proven once again that women in politics, from Eleanor Roosevelt to Shirley Chisholm to Geraldine Ferraro to Sarah Palin simply are not equal, and when all else fails, focus on their dresses and babies.

Sincerely,
H-Chie

Last week I had the pleasure of attending a surprise party for one Larry Davis. It turned out to be a riproaringly good time, complete with friends, laughter, Mexican food, and plenty of drinking. And by plenty I mean KnitDad had plenty. I had been planning on writing a Happy Birthday post for him, and slowly the week slipped away, along with all my free time; more on that later.

I met Larry when he was working at Skein, a lys originally from my hometown that has now moved to the city over. He was the resident knit guru, and spent his time dropping the phat knitting logic on the masses. My mother began hanging out at the store more and more, and established a friendly relationship with the guru. After a while, he moved to A Stitch in Time, a lovely needlepoint and yarn shop. He spread his knowledge to a whole new group, and his flock followed, including my mother. She had already been a lifelong knitter, but became fast friends with Larry due to their many common interests. Larry and I became better acquainted with each other in the time I was out of school during my sophomore year. His concern and support brought comfort to my mother and me during that difficult time, and he soon became one of my mother’s closest confidants.

I have spent many hours with Larry in the past two years. Our differences are plenty. He and I disagree one just about everything from politics and religion to color choice to food to socks (well, maybe not socks.) There is a…..large age difference (I’m older by about 14 years.) We are of different sexes, races, ethnicities, religions, orientations, political parties and everything in between. All in all, we are an unlikely pair of friends. Despite all of this, I can think of very few people I have met in my lifetime that have taught me as much as Larry has.

His knitting knowledge is second to his world knowledge, and I have been a student of his in more ways than one. His lessons come in different forms, and like all great teachers, he leaves his students feeling as if they have learned one thing, when really, they have left with volumes more. His gentle and soft spoken nature disguise an intellect and a passion that many strive for. He is easily one of the smartest people a person will ever meet, and yet one of the most down to earth. It is with great pride and appreciation I call KnitDad my friend. Happy Birthday Larry. Remember how loved you are.

Well, I’ve been gone for a while, although this will be the test to see if anyone noticed my absence. Where have I been? Well, I was in summer school and working two jobs, then I started school again with eight classes and a job, plus volunteering and other stuff, so nothing that interesting was happening for me to blog about. Most recently, I made the Academic Decathlon competing team for my high school. which in effect puts me on the national team, which is cool. Other than that, I’ve been trying to keep up with all my classes and the like. More to come later.

This morning when I walked over to say hi to my good friend of like, 14 years S, she was crying and I knew what had happened, her awesome grandfather, Dr.T, that I liked better than my own had finally succumbed to the terminal cancer that he had been fighting for five years. He was a wonderful wonderful person, a veteran and pediatrician who cared about everyone’s children, but especially his own. Our families became forever intertwined when Big Red met Big S (we call her that) through DAR some 20 or so years ago. I’ve been playing with those girls forever, all three, and I had never seen S cry to much since her middle sister had pushed her off of the jungle gym at Cinderella Park. I’m really upset, and I feel like a part of me has been pulled from my body.

When we came home after seeing Big Red, Mom told me Stella, my favorite of our two hamsters (yes, I like one of the kids better,) had died. I’m sad about that too.

Death is a funny thing. The fact is inevitable, it’s going to happen, and for people who are comfortable discussing it, they sometimes are the one’s who have the worst time handling it. It’s always going to happen, and we all understand that, but there seems to be a large difference with being okay with the topic and accepting the fate.

Hug Your Friends and Hamsters.