The Way She Sees It

I have many great friendships. I sometimes want to sit and write out descriptions for each of these, for example, "Friend I'd most like to travel the world with.." or "Friend who would be the best to tour Napa with" (and whoever is saying "napa? overrated! sonoma or central coast!" is probably that person)...
One of these is someone who in literary terms is my foil. She is not my opposite or nemesis, but our personalities contrast in such a way that we are both brought into sharper focus.

Corinne was technically my boss when I was a Resident Assistant in college. But our relationship soon uh, blossomed?, as we connected. Our 'one on one' weekly meetings overspilled their designated one-hour time slots the way very virulent bacteria takes over the petri dish, runs over the lab table, onto the floor. Five years later, we have reinstated these times, now once a month. We connect on so many levels- we're both passionate (overwhelmingly so sometimes), headstrong (stubborn?) and independent (I like independent. But you can call it whatever you want). One thing we really differed on, though, was our fashion sense. Corinne, like many many people, would often wear black and brown together, which would set me into a tailspin of irk-ed-ness. After we discussed it, she'd point it out every time she wore it, and I sometimes think she did it on purpose to bug me. It became an inside joke and we bonded over it.

Since that time, I have matured (in many ways, I hope), and now appreciate the color combo of not-opposites-yet-not-quite-complimentary black and brown. In fact, I am pining for this purse from anthropologie.

In honor of Corinne, and her honest friendship, I have named an infinity scarf after her. It is a lovely black and brown plaid, bold and beautiful, just like her. Thank you for being my friend, C-dog, I love you.