This is my friend and fellow cropping buddy, Renee, aka The Renaissance Woman. This is her Scary Look.
Renee cannot stand to have her picture taken so she was shooting daggers at me. I told her I needed a picture for this post, but somehow, that wasn't good enough for her.
Right after I took these pictures I became violently ill and took to my bed for two weeks.
Never cross R.W.
I call Renee The Renaissance Woman because she knows things. Obscure things. Her background is in Speech, Art History, and Drama. These are the areas, that I'm aware of, that she's formally trained in. I wouldn't be surprised if she had a few PhDs tucked in her drawers as well. Currently she teaches drama in middle school, but she could do anything for employment because she knows how to do everything.
Renee is the life of the party. The focal point in the room. She's larger than life. You can't carry on a conversation with her without feeling intensely observed. Her eye contact is pointed and piercing.
Her enunciation is flawless. She has an opinion on everything and she's not afraid to share it. You can always count on her to give you an honest answer, and she knows how to be tactful when the subject is delicate.
When people meet her and then find out that she's a drama teacher, they always exclaim "Ah ha!" Never once has anyone ever said "Really?"
Ever since Renee started coming to my house on Saturday nights, she has always sat in the wooden chair that faces out into the room. It has become her spot.
She doesn't want her back to anyone and she wants to be able to see all exits at all times. This little quirk makes me suspicious that she's really a gunslinger. Like she has the long gunslinger coat and everything.
Renee is very particular about her chair and her set-up for cropping. Every week when she gets here, she lays out all of her scrapbooking paraphernalia, makes sure the kleenex box is right in front of her, and she goes looking for my tall metal, umbrella stand turned trash can.
She walks around, focused, and exclaiming "WHERE IS MY TRASH CAN?!!"
When it's an all-day crop and I have paper bags taped to the tables for trash, she rips hers off and says "I don't need this! WHERE IS MY TRASH CAN?!"
One time I said to her, "You know Renee, the other six and half days that you aren't here, it's MY trash can." She just gave me the look and carried the trash can back to her spot.
Yep, you guessed it. I was mysteriously and suddenly ill again.
It's because of this trash can searching frenzy that no one will sit in her chair. It doesn't matter what time Renee arrives, her chair is always waiting for her.
One time a new girl, Jennifer, came to crop and sat down in Renee's chair. Smashley looked at her and said "I don't think you want to sit in that chair. Renee always sits there and she's pretty particular about her spot."
So poor Jennifer got up and moved. Then when Renee got there and started on her trash can hunt, I saw Jennifer wipe some sweat off her brow. I think she was a little relieved that she heeded Smash's advice.
Oh look, Renee is smiling now.
Renee is also a very good friend. She's fiercely loyal. To a fault. When it comes to her friends, she's a mother hen and she would do anything for them.
On the other hand, if you're not her friend, it's not a good idea to tick her off because she knows how to hold a grudge. And she's stubborn. Don't ever tell her what to do. She's equipped to make her own decisions and she doesn't need any help, thank you very much.
Oops, I think I might have some of these qualities too. That must have something to do with how well we get along.
Oh crap, she looks like she's getting ready to go gunslinger on me again. I think I'll go take my temperature now.