How we met.

My good friend Elizabeth is taking part in an month long event celebrating Jane Austen. In honor of this event she asked if I would do a guest blog post for her outstanding blog Strange & Random Happenstance. I was thrilled and took the figurative pen in hand.

The whole process got me to thinking about friendship. I mean, they are so very vital to our lives. Jane Austen shows us this in her wonderful novels. Whether family or neighbors, friendships are at the heart of her stories. And, too, they are so very essential to having a good and happy life.

What I was thinking, though, was how Elizabeth and I connected. It’s so odd, and really rather wondrous, how these things can happen. It started, I suppose, because we both watched and liked a TV show called Gilmore Girls, but more specifically because we love reading. On a book and reading website called goodreads, we both were taking part in a group on the site called The Rory Gilmore Book Club. But stranger still, it wasn’t until a conversation or three about the 10th Doctor Who that we connected.

What’s amazing is how deeply we connected and in so many ways. How fantastic to make such a great friend in such an unusual and roundabout way! To be fair, I suppose it’s not all that unusual since this actually happened to me with one other person from that group on that site… Yet still, these two ladies are two of the most wonderful people I know!

As to Jane Austen, well, I encourage any one that hasn’t done to read one of her books straightaway. You won’t be disappointed! And who knows, maybe you’ll find a friend or two along the way.

When confusion makes sense.

It’s funny how once you incorporate a practice into your life, it becomes bizarre when you realize it’s not common practice. This happened yesterday when I was at the grocery story. I was back for a few items for the bread I was making as well as meat for dinner.

When I went to check out, the lady behind the counter wasn’t all that together, and while I was grappling with the many demands of the credit machine, she bagged my groceries in plastic. Didn’t even ask – not about paper vs. plastic, much less if I had a bag. She had just watched me take everything out of my reusable bag a few moments before, by the way. When I stated I had a bag, she asked, rather disgruntled, if I wanted her to change it. Well. Yes. DUH.

It’s not just I made a resolution – and easy one to manage, I’m finding. It’s not that it’s environmentally better. Not even that she used two plastic bags to my one only half-filled reusable. Nor even the stupidity of her question and lack of short-term memory. What honestly momentarily astounded me was that plastic was even an option. THEN all the other flooded in, but initially I looked at my items in those odd things, and thought, “what are they?”

I kind of like that.

The following story...

So to follow that last post up, I have to say that I began reading Neverwhere by Neil Gaiman today. I’d been wanting to for some time and had finally collected a copy of my own this weekend. Early on, he says this (page 13):

“Richard had noticed that events were cowards: they didn’t occur singly, but instead they would run in packs and leap out at him all at once.”

How disappointing not to be the first to come up with this idea. Even more, it is depressing that he said it so much better and more succinctly. And then, too, how queer that we used the same turn of phrase.

I must confess a further strangeness in that it is only after reading the comment posted by Miss Eliza on that last post which prompted me to begin reading this book at this moment. It’s a bizarre sort of whirlwind of connections, which is underscored by what was contained in Miss Eliza’s comments, and of which I will now repeat here:

This reminds me of a post I read on Neil Gaiman's website today, it's the real truth that should be universally acknowledged:

Strange moments of juxtaposition that make you feel like you're living in a novel:

It had been the kind of day that meant I never quite got to look at the post. After dinner I opened the various packages on the kitchen table.

The first thing I opened was a secondhand copy of The Inner Hebrides and their Legends by Otta F. Swire, and I opened it to a random page and read, "...the third of May, when the Devil and his angels were cast out of heaven (and therefore 3rd May is a day on which no important undertaking should be begun and on which it is unpardonable to commit a crime)..."

That's interesting, I thought. I could put that in a story, the next time I need a date of ill-omen. I put the book down.

I opened the next envelope. It was huge, and came from Bloomsbury books in the UK, and contained – well, what it contained was on the note accompanying it, which said, in tidy handwriting:

Dear Neil
I'm delighted to enclose proofs of the Bloomsbury edition of "Instructions" (to be published on 3rd May).
With best wishes,
Madeleine

That's a bit heavy-handed, I thought. If I were writing this, I'd drop the 3rd May date in on something that happened tomorrow, to give everyone reading a chance to forget.

Real life is so strangely written, sometimes.

To add one more oddity, this book seems to be about this very thing - odd occurrences and connections that lead us to the most unusual situations... sometimes even to the incredible and unbelievable.

"...big ball of wibbly wobbly timey wimey."