The Shelly Fan Club

First, this anecdote.

This is how we roll at my house:
Last night the husband came into the bedroom, looked at me and asked, "What are you eating?"
"Frosting."
"Why are you eating frosting?"
"I'm sublimating my need for sex."
"You want to have sex?"
"Not anymore, I'm kind of sick from all the frosting."

My real post is about how everyone should be just like Shelly.
I love Shelly.
She came in this morning to talk about how much she loves public radio and how everyone should contribute. Normally we then take the 20-minute interview, pull out the one or two halfway intelligent things the person said and make a 30-second testimonial out of it. Shelly was fabulous. I could slap some music under it, edit myself out and roll with it! She's articulate and funny and interesting.
And she is a serious public radio listener.
And she owns a yarn shop.
And she underwrites.

If we weren't both married and it weren't illegal in this state I would so marry her and cook for her and run around all day trying to think up ways to make her happy.

And I mean that in the least stalker-ish way possible.

I showed her where my work yarn stash lives and I showed her my picture of Ira Glass and me... and we scheduled some time for her to come in during the pledge drive and say charming and intelligent things effortlessly on the air.

Sigh.

In (other) knitting news... I'm on the heel of the second monkey sock, waiting for the monkey stuff I ordered to get here so I can mail it. I'll be mailing my Dishcloth Exchange package next Friday. I have put the Queen of Cups sock to the side until I finish the second monkey... and I should probably decide on how much holiday knitting I'm going to attempt!

Maybe everyone on my list would like some nice wristbands. Matching ones.