She sings. All the time. I teased her and told her that she should come with a warning label: Caution, never stops singing.
...buuuut her voice is like a freakin' angel's, so it's all good. We all agreed that she needs to go audition to be a voice for a Disney princess (why, no, we didn't watch Frozen, what are you talking about?).
The other day, Jenn and I were contemplating how on earth we were supposed to accurately blog about this trip without sounding too polished or eloquent. Her visit was far from elegant; it was just plain crazy. A visit to our twitter and instagram accounts will testify to the fact. ;) It's a wonderful and weird and happy and slightly scary thing to meet one of your best friends for the first time. I imagine our grandparents would never have thought that in the year 2014 you can go to the airport to pick up someone you've only seen on skype and in pictures. Granted, I suppose there were penpals and mail-order brides, but still. It's crazy to think about.
Jenn is one of those people who's easy to be around. Let's be honest, I wasn't sure how it'd be to have someone I'd just met (in real life) stay at my house for 3 1/2 days, especially with less than a week's notice! It could've been a nightmare - but she blended into our family so seamlessly that she felt more like a long-long sister than a visitor. From the moment we squeezed the life-blood out of each other in the airport terminal to sitting on the couch eating sunflower seeds at midnight, Jenn was Jenn. Tea-drinking, blonde, meticulous-nail-painting, stationary-loving, smiley, hair-twirling, crepe-eating, country-music-hating, considerate, ukulele-playing, reminding-little-sisters-about-play-practice, scarf-wearing, snapchatting, always-singing Jenn. I freakin' love her.
Now, before you get the wrong idea about her, I should probably warn you that she's also really rude. Because now, I can never listen to the O Brother Where Art Thou soundtrack or see something about Frozen or eat wasabi peas or paint triangles on my fingernails or hear Skinny Love or dig for my keys in my purse or hear about Les Mis or say the words hashtag or bro or man or lolz or go to a greenhouse or to the bus station or eat crepes without thinking of her. Geez, Jenn. Quit leaving memories all over the place.
Not to mention she brought along so much drama: things like accidentally locking the keys to the guest room inside said guest room and recruiting me to help break in through the window at 1 in the morning (only to find out the next morning that was another set of keys LOLZ OOPS) and missing her bus by five minutes and having to beg a lady named Sunshine for help and using my phone to call a bunch of people to help her. Wink wonk.
JENN. I LOVE YOU, MAN. You're a real gem of a lady and I miss you (and your singing) terribly and I promise I will make it up there one of these days. ♥