The Mayor of Dork City.

Dear friends,

So I told you all about those keyrings I made over the weekend? And how I put them all in the mail to various and sundry surprise recipients?

Turns out, I got the surprise.

You see, I made keyrings for Kate and her Russian roommate, Kris. (Remember the ones with tennis ball fabric? Instead of a label with the word “love” like the one I showed you, I stitched on their names. I didn’t photograph them for my blog post because I didn’t want the girls to be tipped off.)

I wrote a card to Kate telling her I missed her and to give Kris my love; I carefully wrapped the keyrings in tissue paper and twine; then I sealed the whole thing up in a padded envelope and dropped it in the mailbox.

And as soon as I let go of the package, I had a sinking thought: Kristina’s keyring said “Chris.”

I cursed.

Then I texted Kate to say she was getting a surprise with an “oops” and she’d understand when she saw it.

I’ve spent the last two days fretting over my brain’s misfire. Am I suffering from quilt-induced exhaustion? Am I getting early-onset dementia? Am I the Mayor of Dork City? And how in the world did I make such a mistake and then realize it the moment I let go of the package (but not a second before)?

I’m actually a little frightened. Today I typed a Tweet and used the word “worse” when I meant “worst.” The other day I typed “to” instead of “too.” My job involves a lot of words so I’ve got to get back on my game.

Turns out, though, sweet Kris — who seems to tolerate the quirks of Americans quite well — was still thrilled. I told Kate to return it so I could fix it, but “Kris” wouldn’t let go of “Chris.” In fact, she Tweeted this photo with a thanks for “the cutest keyring ever.”

chris

With gratitude {for scoring high on style even though I flunked international relations},

Joan, who will never again express disdain when the barista writes “Jone” on her Toffee Nut Latte because if the Russian college student can be gracious, shouldn’t she?

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Comments

  1. Ooof. So potentially there is a fog of quilting? I’m guessing you were so excited over the surprise you were setting up that your normal proof-reading mode was overridden. Nothing new there – my Mom had one of those Pennsylvania-Dutch hex signs in her kitchen that read “The hurrieder I go the behinder I get”. (It never hurts to be nice to your barista as long as they get your order right who cares how they spell your name!?)

  2. Joan, you are just progressing orderly in the aging of the brain. Learn to reread everything or you will forever be the mayor of Dork City. You will find yourself checking over and over whether or not you put your keys in your purse or they are in the ignition. There will be an increase in your knowing exactly where something was put, only it isn’t there. Let me know of other examples that come and how the other J’s are doing in this arena. I know this because I am on the road in front of you.

  3. Juanita, my mother had pretty bad dementia the last few years of her life, so I’m worried about my prospects. I am aware I don’t help myself any by rushing too often. You are right. I really do need to slow down and re-read. The car keys thing has always plagued me — even when young! So now I have two tricks: a HUGE keyring that can’t get lost in my purse and a habit whereby — when at home in the garage — I always leave my keys in the car. Some would say that’s dangerous, but I never search for my keys when I leave the house because I know exactly where they are.

    Also, I have one foolproof memory trick. Whenever I need to remember something (such as “refill my checkbook with checks when I get home”), I put an X on my left hand pointer finger knuckle with an ink pen. The X on my hand catches my attention and reminds me to do the thing I need to do. Granted, it only works with one thing at a time, but unlike every other trick and type of list I’ve used, it has never failed me.

  4. I rather like the spelling Jone. It has a rock star bad girl quality that nicely offsets your quilt persona.

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