Giddy

When I was 20 years old, I bought my first brand new car. I did a lot of research on it, I took my time, I felt so grown up. I even bargained with the dealer and got money knocked off the price, which in turn landed me an offer for a date from the (much) older man who sold me said car. Which in turn made my skin crawl. But that's a different story.

http://static.cargurus.com/images/site/2009/01/09/20/22/1996_geo_metro_2_dr_lsi_hatchback-pic-168.jpeg

I was SO very excited when I went to the dealership to pick up my 1996 five-speed, purple-blue Geo Metro.

And yet, that excitement pales in comparison to what I was feeling today, as I mentally tracked the UPS truck that was carrying my first brand new sewing machine to my front door. Chris even graciously ran home from his studio close to delivery time so I would not have to wait an extra day should the man in brown and gold show up to an empty house, leaving his taunting little slip of paper stuck to my front door.

Both UPS and Chris sent me a message when the delivery was complete, when the machine was sitting in my living room, waiting for me. It was 2:15. I was teaching. We were discussing the future tense and my pocket gently vibrated with glorious news (via Android). I forgot what I was saying...

Oh, dear Singer and Viking, I loved you so. You were everything you could be for me, but it just wasn't enough. Welcome, Janome DC 2011. I love you even though you're pink. I love you even though I haven't even plugged you in or sewn a single stitch. I love your zig and your zag, your stretch stitch and your automatic button holer. And I love the other 47 stitches I don't even recognize yet.



Janome, you may not be the fanciest machine out there, but you were worth every average penny I spent. I think this is the beginning of a beautiful relationship.