Dedication to Coco

I have a lot of socks. I really had no idea how many pairs of socks I own, not to mention the underwear. I still haven't had to do laundry since I moved in which is nice, but I'm going to have to do it tomorrow. My underwear and sweatshirt supply is low. But I really want this entry to be about my socks. Now why would an opera singer want to write about socks, you ask? I don't know, but what I do know is that there aren't any auditions happening until April, so until then, I have to find other things to write about. Today, it will be my socks.

Every day before I put on my shoes, I reach into the top drawer of my dresser, and pull out a pair of fresh, clean white socks. I always neatly fold them in a special way... the way Aunt Hilda (name not altered... yeah, you TRY to find her!) in Germany does them. The special way to fold them is that you place the two socks together in a parallel fashion with one lying on top of the other. Then you fold the pair of socks three times so that it forms a square. The next part will be difficult to describe. It's much easier to demonstrate. Take the outer sock and pull open one side from the opening, then wrap it around the pair which will turn it inside out, but the pair of socks will be wrapped up nicely inside.

Well, occasionally I will pull out a pair of incorrectly folded socks, and although mildly annoyed, I think endearingly of my friend Coco (name altered) aka my game Soulmate, and I think back to that day when she spent an afternoon helping me pack back in San Francisco.

**FLASHBACK MUSIC**

I had also been doing laundry that day, and because I was so incredibly busy with my move, any help in any aspect of my life and daily duties was welcome. Coco helped me fold my laundry. I kind of showed her the appropriate way to fold my socks, but I didn't go into much detailed instruction because I thought it was rather obvious. She seemed to have it down. 20 minutes into folding, she asked in her cute way, "Now, is there a particular way you want these folded, cuz I'm not sure if I'm doing it right?" I looked with horror at the pile of "folded" socks before her.

I said, "Well, how are you folding them?"

"I've been putting one sock inside the other. Isn't that what' you're doing?"

"Yes, but HOW are you putting the one sock inside the other?"

"Well, I'm folding the one sock and sticking it in the other."

I was thinking, "No, No, No!" But I remembered how to curb my control-freakish tendencies during my time in San Francisco so I just said, "That's not the right way. You have to do it MY way, like this." I then demonstrated the Aunt Hilda fold in a determined, Germanic manner. Coco gave me a blank look... no judgement, no emotion. After a pause, she said, "Well, I'm not refolding these socks. You will just have to think of me when you unpack them."

Then we joked about how I would curse her name whenever I would pull out a pair of her folded socks, which I do (with humor), but all is EASILY forgiven. I do get annoyed that they aren't folded correctly, BUT the socks bring me back to that day with my friend and the time we spent together laughing at my quirky behavior.

Coco, this entry is for YOU! I miss you!