my socks don't match [and other stories of clothing]

Tuesday, Mar. 16, 2004 6:07 am

[a repost of my myspace journal entry]

When I returned from bootcamp in 2002, none of my old clothing fit me. My ex took me out shopping, and we bought new pants and shirts to fit me. I had dropped about thirty five pounds and lost about 6-7" off my waist. I know, I couldn't believe I fit into my old clothes either. Most people were surprised, thinking that everybody bulks up when they go to bootcamp. Not true. Some people slim down, some people get bigger. I slimed down, drastically. It helped [in an awkward use of the phrase], that I was injured with muscle damage and put out of commission for three days while in training.

My weight fluctuated when I got back, but nothing major. I lost the gauntness, having started to eat more then water and army mystery meat again, but stayed around the 190 pound mark. When I was going through my break up suffering, I stopped eating. Lost about ten pounds. Put that back on once I got better. I've maintained that 190-195 mark since then, and at 6 foot 2 inches, that suits me. There's always room for improvement, but considering the massive, massive [I like that the dictionary uses the word "ponderous" in it's definition of massive] amounts of Guinness I consume and the too common "I don't know what that is in my fridge, and I don't care what it smells like, I'll eat it" late night drunken cravings for food, being able to have some semblance of ab-lines is quite a feat.

I digress.

Something... "happened" to me in bootcamp, and I returned with some "issues" in my head. Some degree of it, I am certain, contributed to the break up between me and my girlfriend of 5 years. The extreme amount of drinking I undertook was definitely in reaction to these "issues", and also definitely related to losing the gauntness. But, that is all a long and different story, not suited for such public places as this. No, this place is good to talk about why they two socks I'm wearing right now don't match.

Let's get back to the nonconforming clothes. After regaining a sense of style [the Army, let's face it, is not known for being fashionable. Unless you liken the sharpness of a pressed uniform as you would to a suit], I tried a few different pants. Khakis, slacks, etc. but finally settled on a pair of Levi's 505's, with just-right cuffs. You see, I have a very labor intensive job, so I need durability. Also, my clothing often has to endure carrying the battle scars of the many heavy drinking nights. That is, whiskey and beer stains and the occasional falling down [which infrequently also means blood stains]. So I settled on the dark denim 505's. I was still on the American kick. Being a solider and all, so what better then the all American levis, yeah? Well, either while I was away at bootcamp, or more likely long before that, Levis are being made in China. Funny enough, so are American military uniforms. I was much more surprised about the Levis, though.

Because I needed an all new wardrobe, and because I'm not a rich person, this has been a slow process. The clothing I buy has to be affordable and durable. Not an easy combination to find. I also do have some sense of aesthetics, blessed onto me from living with a girl for four years, so I didn't want to look like a model for Dickies wear. My one clothing related quirk are socks. My socks have to match my pants. Black pants with white socks? My roommate does this all the time, and it's garish. Black socks with anything except black pants? To me, I might as well be wearing a full bozo the clown outfit, complete with puffy red nose... and to make it that much more asshole-ish, let's just have that red nose honk if you squeeze it. Since I wear jeans 99% of the time, most of my socks are dark grey. I have one or two pairs of dress socks to go with a few of my suits, but that is unimportant. What is important, currently, is that I don't have a lot of socks, but I always think I do. In actuality, I probably only have five pairs. With seven days in a week, and being generally absent-minded [read; drunk], I'm always forgetting to do laundry, and occasionally have to wear dirty socks. Without fail, my feet smell horrible after doing this. To compound the issue, I'm probably down to three matching pairs of socks. The four others I have, don't seem to match any others. I don't know why. I don't know how. But either way, I can't seem to keep my socks in happy relationships. Then again, I don't have the best experience in keeping anything together in a happy relationship. So, I'm just going to blame George W. Bush for this problem too.

Looking back at my childhood, I wish I had gotten socks instead of GI Joes for Christmas. If only, at seven years old, we could be aware of such sock-related crisis. Like the old adage goes; "If I knew then, what I know now, I would have gotten laid a lot more". Or something like that.

The irony of all this is I told myself to do laundry tonight, but instead sat down and wrote this.

[ps. I'm joking about the GI Joe thing. Snake Eyes is so much cooler then socks]

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dland exuant omnes your voice drifts away into lost binary alleyways it echoes photography

last five:
A Winter Letter - Wednesday, Nov. 28, 2007
almost but not quite - Wednesday, Mar. 22, 2006
rural times, blue skies. it feels so warm over my hair - Wednesday, Jun. 01, 2005
smiles and gone - Monday, Feb. 07, 2005
I caught my love in North Carolina - Monday, Nov. 29, 2004

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