Listen.

This is what my BFF, aka Vegan Soulmate, says when you’re sassing her. Which is most of the time, if you are me. She says it mostly as a short-form for whatever obvious rebuttal we both know she has, as well as to indicate that I should keep sassing, cause it makes her feel loved. I think. That’s what I tell myself, anyway.

Jackie and I cook things. It is kind of magical. We meet in a kitchen, wine is drunk, a mess is made, deliciousness ensues. We share a love of food and a certain mental synergy that replaces the need for talk, or else replaces normal language with some special BFF-speak that outsiders can’t quite make sense of. That is, I think, how love usually works.

This year my soulmate and I are MoFo-ing together, across two countries, a gazillion miles, busy schedules, Oxford commas, and terrible procrastination problems. There’s no real ongoing theme aside from vegan food. But we will have theme days! Happyfuntimes are on the menu.

Considering what to brunch on, the last time I saw her in the flesh. Austin 2012.

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2 thoughts on “Listen.

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