I Don't Care How It Happened, Always Have Time For An Old Friend, I Just Have To Know You're Coming Back Again

--"Days", Sambassadeur

I washed my wolf blanket for the first time in like four months. Most people don't even know why I would bother. It's very rough to the skin--almost to the point where it causes rashes if I don't interlay a lighter blanket beneath it. It's an odd color--all white with a pack of wolves pattern yet with pink splotches for the skyline. Lastly, I have a perfectly adequate comforter that does the same job of holding back the chill on those especially cold nights. Yes, there is the fact it has wolves on it, but even that isn't enough of a reason for me to have retained it this long, especially given its altogether unpleasant properties.

Why do I keep it?

Because it was a parting gift from Toby and the whole Frisson family.

Sometimes I find it odd that sentimental reasons are enough for me to hold onto object that are otherwise worthless to me. I seem to fall into the pattern of keeping for far too long things that have outlived their usefulness. From ticket stubs and receipts to shirts that no longer fit me or have holes in them--I can be a bit of a pack rat when it comes to nostalgia. Perhaps it has something to do with the fact that I never like to take pictures of myself. It just doesn't fully capture a moment the way actually having something from that day does. Because of that I'll hold onto pieces of nothing that can jump start memories only for me.

And that blanket is one of them. In much the same way I like to give Mah Jong sets out to my friends when I travel halfway across the country to visit them, so too is it that I like come away with the reminders of the people and places I've gone out to. My mom a long time ago told me it's always advantageous to leave a mah jong set because every time they pull it out to play, they'll always have the story of when it was given to them and who gave it to them. More than that, every time I go over to someplace where I've left a set I can always request to play it with them. It's an easy ice-breaker. It's also something that serves an opening to come back. Rather than have to hint that I want to come for a visit again, it's rather innocuous to joke about playing another game of Mah-Jong with somebody--almost as if they're keeping a spot at the table open for me.

That's the way I feel about this blanket. I don't think about how unpleasant it can be at times. All I think about is how awesome it was to share it with Toby and her sister that one day we were just sitting watching movies together. And I think about how awesome it was that they let me have it on the day I was supposed to leave Kentucky. And, most of all, I like to think how it really wasn't my blanket, but I'm merely saving it for them if and when they decide to come visit me in California.

In that sense, it's less of a memento and more of a standing invitation for an altogether overdue get-together--wolves beneath a pink sky and all.

Yours Swimmingly,
mojo shivers