k.smartt was in town. we refer to all of our rendezvous as "dates" now.
because, when we met in london in february, we went on a proper date, segueing from coffee to dinner. and because, in the midst of that date, we talked a lot about dating and also because our date was so clearly superior to the actual date of the couple next to us who spent their whole meal on their phones.
this date was planned entirely through me texting k.smartt's sister.
we met in notting hill and lunched at a restaurant dedicated to princess diana then sat in kensington park gardens finishing the last six of the 36 questions we began on the ride down to mantachie back in june.
these meetings are such a luxury. an afternoon here and an evening there, it makes it seem like we almost still live in the same city, though neither of us do.
i'm in her phone as "Caroline In London Eaton."
at one point, we rang k.lo. solely so k.smartt could see how fun it is when, in ringing k.lo, "k.lo (hopeless romantic enchanted by the power of dressing hair)" sloooooooowly scrolls across the screen.
in doing this, i knew k.smartt would find this amazing and, though k.lo would not pick up, she would totally understand and appreciate why we crank called her when it was later explained.
languor. that's the word.
there's a languor in these moments that pleases me to no end. a languor in these friendships, and also an ease. where, for months, you communicate purely through texted links or book recommendations and then, when you're in the same city, you just sit on a blanket in a park somewhere and pick up the same conversation you've been having for years.