iiiiiiiiit's
thaaaaat
time of year,
when the world falls in love

I heard from my adopted Spokane family yesterday. Lynn, this time. Every such conversation invariably leads to her asking about every female name I've ever mentioned.

"So what's going on with x?" she'll say leadingly. "How's y?" Are z through gg still happily married?"

"With love, Lynn, kindly shut your nag-hole."

For whatever reason, the holidays bring it up a notch. The implicit becomes painfully explicit. "Well, we just want to see you happy before we die, is all."

Happy meaning married.

I've never noticed any particular correlation between those two concepts, but despite the abundant evidence to the contrary in her daily life, Lynn still devoutly practices the religion happiness = marriage.

"Can you remind me again why you and Allie didn't work out?"

Jesus Christ pushin' a hand-cart. Now she's mining 1995?

"Please don't. We are and always should have been friends. It wasn't even close."

"You say that, but it just seems like a shame."

"And the fact that she's got a family of her own now, this doesn't take her off your random list of prospects?"

"Is she happy in her relationship?"

"Elated. And I like him more than I like her. Now can we drop this?"

"It just seems like you two have such a special relationship, is all."

"If by that you mean she doesn't annoy the fuck out of me like this, then yes, it's a very special relationship indeed."

"What about your boss, Flo? Is she single?"