A Dark Funk

I haven't blogged in a while, but not from lack of ideas. Unfortunatly everytime I sit down here the first thing I do is check my email. Usually the traffic of my inbox in close to nil everyday. (Unless my sisters and I are trying to schedule a night out!) But lately, the emails are lining up like orphans with their empty bowls. It's so sad. And by the time I'm done putting out fires and drying tears I just can't stand sittting here anymore. So, just now, I have fought back all impluses and started to write to you, my loyal three readers, without checking on how the masses are drowning without me.

Today I want to tell you about my least favorite piece of clothing. No, not bras. I feel bras have a very important place in society which becomes abundantly clear whenever you see someone deciding that today is her day to be free. No, this piece of clothing will probably be shocked at my scorn since it is adored the world around. Simply, it is the black t-shirt.

What? How can this be? This a staple in any wardrobe, no? It's like declaring I don't like socks! Well, I do like socks, very much, but black t-shirts are a complete puzzle to me.

Here's how I see it: If it warm enough to wear short sleeves, then it is too warm to wear black. Simple as that. And if it's so cold that you have to wear a sweater or jacket over your black t-shirt, then it might as well be any color. The Man feels the same way about black t-shirts by the way. We once took an overly long t-shirt shopping trip trying to find cool shirts for him to wear to Vermont. We found cool shirt after cool shirt, but everyone that we liked was black making it unwearable, therefore un-buyable. We didn't buy one shirt all day. They made cast t-shirts for "Joseph" over the summer. But they printed them on black shirts so I didn't get one and my own name was on the back! That's how much I don't like black t-shirts.

Here's the only time you can wear black t-shirts:

1. If you a bouncer in a dark bar.
2. If you are a vampire in New Orleans.

That's about it. Otherwise I see you for what you are: You are either looking cool and to prove it your arms are blue with frostbite OR you are looking cool but you are a giant sweaty mess underneath. Either way, it's not for me. Is it that I am not cool? Perhaps, but I'm willing to carry that stigma for my own comfort.