11.9.09

utensil romance


Dear backpack-spoon,

i remember the moment i first laid eyes on you. it was a direct flight from vancouver to frankfurt. you arrived swathed in linen on my tray of airplane dinner. as soon as my hand grasped your brushed finish i knew i had to have you, forever and always. i'm not proud of the fact i procured you through theft, but know that i've never regretted that descion for a second. 

i can't begin to count the pudding cups, canned soups and bowls of instant oatmeal that i would never have know the pleasure of, without you. my snacking knows no boundaries outside of the normal jurisdiction of cutlery. my heart skips a beat when i reach into the depths of my backpack's second-smallest compartment and embrace your smooth shiny neck. 

i believe in the earth and the need to protect it. i like the subtle way that your presence in the cafeteria translates this message. when people see us together, they appreciate the beauty and the harmony of our relationship with each other, and our relationship with the planet. backpack-spoon, you truly make me a better person.

I've always been a long term relationship kind of girl, and knowing that you'll be there for me eases my fears of the unknown. when i reach for you, instead of some flimsy one-time-use plastic spoon, i feel safe. i like the fact that you have a story, that we have a story. i taste our history with every bite-full. you may not be the cleanest, but you are mine.  

i love you backpack-spoon,

xo Lo