Itch, itch...scratch, scratch...screeeeam!
Sometimes I want to take the clothes that I'm wearing and rip them right off of my back and throw them in a river, a nearby river so I don't have to travel too far nekkid, or perhaps I could have the clothes that I really want to wear handy and close by for a smooth transition into more preferred garments. Although I enjoy nekkid as much as the next person it's no way to go through this life, you know, amoungst other more appropriately clothed people. I suppose, in truth, it's really the only way that we all actually go through life, but let's not get nitpicky. The point of all this is that I get up...I put on clothes that I often don't find very comfortable in the strictest "me" sense, and then go pretend to be someone kinda important to a lot of people who really do think that they are quite important. The kids that I work with would prefer the real me, but the schools I wander into kinda demand a more rigorish version of the accidentally presentable me.
Today I would like to ditch these khakis, shoes, socks, shirt with a collar, sweater with a zipper, wrist(and for some odd reason I want to emphasize both parts of this delightfully compound word)watch, and replace it all with...uhmmm...
This. I won't be needing the suitcase though.
I just want to feel like me, and instead I feel like I just walked out of the teachers lounge. I suppose it's my obligation, or perogative or something, to change that, right? Yeah, it is...of course it is. I'm wandering into work for the rest of this week and the rest of forever looking the that way I feel. I'll just ask my wife to hide my Dodgers cap and all those t-shirts that aren't a single solid color...you know, help to minimize the potential damage I might cause to myself. In fact, I might just go home tonight and purge myself of all these items of fabric annoyance and teacherous sensibilities. Sorry Beth, no offence...I bet you look just fine. Your smile alone does the trick, but I'm feeling very non-Brian-like, which sucks the mustard a little. I dress fine on my own, absolutely...so why do I insist on not doing so each morning that I head to work?
Zoey...write this down... you know, someday when you can write...
Act like you, talk like you, dress like you, laugh, walk, run like you every minute of every day 'cause somebody probably likes you a lot exactly the way that you are...more importantly, you'll like yourself a lot better being exactly who you're supposed to be all of the time.
So...anyone...If you want some perfectly good clothes meet me in my driveway at 6pm tonight. I'll be the grinning git of a man-boy with several bags of perfectly good clothing that perfectly annoys me.
A quick question before I go...
Why do men have the style options of either uber-masculine, or perfectly emasculating, with nary a thing in between? I'm a guy. I want to dress like a guy...not a biker, not a rock star, not a prep school headmaster, not a golfer, not an uncle with questionable taste...just a guy.
By the way...I'm also not shaving for the rest of the week. Sorry Zo. Hugs will be scratchy.
Now I have to go pretend to know a lot of stuff and be semi-responsible...although I find more often than not I help these kids more when I don't know how to help them, and when I'm seemingly as inclined to screwing up as they may be. It's hard to fake "real."
I'm chalking one up for the great and confusing universe today because on this sunny but windy afternoon, sensibility loses and gut instinct wins big.
BTW...friends in both NY and CA who might say, "Nothing wrong with the way you cover yourself Bri," which I'd respond to with a reminder that the very middle of North America is not Hell's Kitchen or the Haight. People here have sweatshirts with wolves on them. You think I'm joking. Dressing like a guy here is really confusing. Hence, my existential/sartorial funk on this fine day.
I think I want to have no shoes on...can I do that?
Today I would like to ditch these khakis, shoes, socks, shirt with a collar, sweater with a zipper, wrist(and for some odd reason I want to emphasize both parts of this delightfully compound word)watch, and replace it all with...uhmmm...
This. I won't be needing the suitcase though.
I just want to feel like me, and instead I feel like I just walked out of the teachers lounge. I suppose it's my obligation, or perogative or something, to change that, right? Yeah, it is...of course it is. I'm wandering into work for the rest of this week and the rest of forever looking the that way I feel. I'll just ask my wife to hide my Dodgers cap and all those t-shirts that aren't a single solid color...you know, help to minimize the potential damage I might cause to myself. In fact, I might just go home tonight and purge myself of all these items of fabric annoyance and teacherous sensibilities. Sorry Beth, no offence...I bet you look just fine. Your smile alone does the trick, but I'm feeling very non-Brian-like, which sucks the mustard a little. I dress fine on my own, absolutely...so why do I insist on not doing so each morning that I head to work?
Zoey...write this down... you know, someday when you can write...
Act like you, talk like you, dress like you, laugh, walk, run like you every minute of every day 'cause somebody probably likes you a lot exactly the way that you are...more importantly, you'll like yourself a lot better being exactly who you're supposed to be all of the time.
So...anyone...If you want some perfectly good clothes meet me in my driveway at 6pm tonight. I'll be the grinning git of a man-boy with several bags of perfectly good clothing that perfectly annoys me.
A quick question before I go...
Why do men have the style options of either uber-masculine, or perfectly emasculating, with nary a thing in between? I'm a guy. I want to dress like a guy...not a biker, not a rock star, not a prep school headmaster, not a golfer, not an uncle with questionable taste...just a guy.
By the way...I'm also not shaving for the rest of the week. Sorry Zo. Hugs will be scratchy.
Now I have to go pretend to know a lot of stuff and be semi-responsible...although I find more often than not I help these kids more when I don't know how to help them, and when I'm seemingly as inclined to screwing up as they may be. It's hard to fake "real."
I'm chalking one up for the great and confusing universe today because on this sunny but windy afternoon, sensibility loses and gut instinct wins big.
BTW...friends in both NY and CA who might say, "Nothing wrong with the way you cover yourself Bri," which I'd respond to with a reminder that the very middle of North America is not Hell's Kitchen or the Haight. People here have sweatshirts with wolves on them. You think I'm joking. Dressing like a guy here is really confusing. Hence, my existential/sartorial funk on this fine day.
I think I want to have no shoes on...can I do that?
posted by Unknown at
1:21 PM
2 Comments:
Sure you can. I once took off my shoes and left for vacation barefoot and no one realized until we were 8 hours out of London. I was 5 years old though....
Sometimes I look at my feet - callouses, hard spots and toughness - and sigh at the plain un-femininity of them. They're ugly. But then I realize I can walk (and have walked) barefoot on gravel all day on these tough industrial beauties, and I smile.
LOVE this post. Love all of them, but really love this one. In fact, I'm stealing a quote from it. I'll give you credit. And buy you a beer in Brooklyn.
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