28 December 2011
True love is like a pair of socks: you've gotta have two of them and they've gotta match. - Erich Fromm
Sometimes life really is cliche and throws you a fast and hard curve ball that not even Pujols will catch a whiff of, even if it were thrown from the Almighty himself.
That's the story of my life. I joke that I'm cursed by my own last name: anything that can go wrong, will. But unfortunately I am uttering a bit of truth in that very jest.
To say that dark clouds follow me around would be an understatement.
I'm probably the most smiling unlucky-in-love person you'll ever meet.
By default I've learned this part of my character. My first and best observation was under the tutelage of my paterfamilias.
I have to say I'm pretty thankful for the worst luck because baby when I hit the jackpot it's going to be grand... Well, temporarily, until the next disaster strikes.
My missing sock probably met the demise in the dryer. Damn sock monster.
It's funny because socks don't really have to match... so the quote I started this ranting "men suck" saga with doesn't actually suit.
The thing is, you can get away with mismatched socks. Hell, meet my grandparents. Their socks never matched yet 54 years later they haven't changed their footing.
In reality, you're drawn to your socks by comfort. Take a look in that sock drawer. When was the last time you wore those itchy snowflake socks your best friend bought you... It's been awhile, eh? That's because people pick out things by their emotions. A matching sock or mismatching.
I wear athletic socks. They're durable. They go for miles. They will be strained. They will probably get a little dirt on them too... Because I always kick myself when I'm running. My socks get worn just as much as that heart you see on my sleeve.
Maybe one day those damned socks will forgive me. I really did like how they just knew exactly how to settle on my body.
Heart Ate My Other Sock • Opuss № I