My Blankie, But Make It...a British Chat Show

A new series on comfort watches, reads, and other ways to self-soothe and dissociate—starting with The Graham Norton Show.

Hi hi hi.

What is new, my friends?

So I’m trying out something here and you can tell me if you absolutely hate it and think it’s dumb, but like with kindness, you know? For way too long in my creative life (well, and life life), I held back parts of myself or ideas that I thought everyone would think were silly or dumb or boring or whatever.

That Abby can’t come to the phone right now—or in the future. Why? Oh, ‘cause she’s dead.

One of the coolest things about doing WHN for the past five and a half years¹ is that it’s opened up my own self-expression, while simultaneously letting me find a bunch of other weirdos (complimentary) who are as obsessive as I am about a lot of the same things. It helps me be less precious about my ideas, while still staying true to my eldest daughter/gifted and talented alum/pleasure to have in class/pathological people pleaser who only wanted you to see her/anxious girlie need for external validation.

Bless.

One thing I’ve never been too “cool” to share is how much I love my blankie. Well, except for a very brief period in middle school when I put it away—but even that didn’t last long. Middle school is just the worst in every way, isn’t it? But that’s a discussion for another day.

My blankie is 1000000000p my most prized possession. Full stop. Nothing brings me the level of comfort that it does and has for the entirety of my life. Plus, it was made by one of my aunts which makes it even more special.

Blankies are the shit and Linus is a real one. Anyone who slanders him will have to come through me.

Sidebar: When I searched “Linus blanket” on Giphy just now it gave me the above, but also the below…which felt right. He also brings me great comfort.

My blankie travels with me wherever I go, even if I’m just going to be away for one night. Boyfriends have to just accept the blankie. (Well, when I used to date anyway.) It is not confined to the bedroom. Blankie often comes with me to the couch while I watch TV. If someone else is here, nothing changes.

I’ve spent a lifetime running my fingers along the edges of this precious blanket as a way to self-soothe and calm myself down and find a sliver of peace. I also do this as I try to lull myself to sleep. I have always been an extremely fidgety person (hi middle-age ADHD diagnosis!) who wrings her hands and jiggles her feet constantly. I started double crossing my long ass legs early on at school to stop my ever-moving hooves.

I can only imagine what someone would have thought if they walked in on my trying to capture this on film for you all. Because, obviously, I needed to do that. That…is how I relax in my home.

In our house growing up, we had those floor vents for the AC (cut into the wall-wo-wall carpet, natch) and in the summertime I would cool down the entirety of my blankie on them. Like, I’d flip it over and do turns to make sure every inch got cool and then run it through my fingers or smoosh it up to my face, which is also a common position in our relationship. There’s nothing like ice cold blankie—or waking up with the imprints on your visage.

This is quite literally us. I just don’t usually try to take a selfie while we’re hanging out.

My blankie can make anyplace feel like home.