Sunday, May 9, 2010

My mom would be so proud

I never buy new socks. Nor do I buy old socks. I have had the same socks since 2003 and 2005. The white ones are from 2003, I know this because they have paint stains on them from when I was a scenic painter at Stage, St. Louis.

Stages St. Louis, of course is

Where Musical Theatre Comes Alive!

My socks have paint on them from the set of the musical 1776 (For God's sake, John, sit down!) and Big! The Musical (Too creepy to quote) and La Cage Aux Folles (Obviously).

My black socks I purchased before going to Japan in the late summer of 2005. I bought them because that is what I thought all the cool Japanese kids would be wearing: black socks.

Cool Japanese Kids

But, enough of my sock anthropology. I never buy new socks. And I know why. My socks never die because I always pair them up after washing and drying them. My socks have partners and are never lonely. My socks are not strictly monogamous. I am not that good at pairing them up but they are in an open relationship with all of the other socks. But they are segregated by color. Should I be pairing up them up differently to be progressive? eek!

Back on track.

The reason why my socks live so long it that they are never lonely. They have love and companionship. Someone to hold and talk to. They laugh, they cry, my socks have each other.

So they live longer.

In fact, love makes my socks immortal.

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