Just before getting into work this morning, I saw two tourists (still? Show's over, please go home. You frustrate my morning travel routine and Springsteen is probably already back in Jersey), a man and a woman, wearing matching taupe puffer jackets. Last Friday, when my friend asked me why I didn't want to get married, I gave him vague answers about wanting to retain my identity. I had no concrete reasoning. Now I do.
When Zach and I were infants and mom decided it would be a great idea to dress us in matching sailor suits for a portrait at Olan Mills, we had no choice. Although, I think my permanently stuck out tongue and his actively rolling off the platform and requiring head stitches were forms of formal protest. We, despite sharing nine months in the same womb and having similar tendencies and tastes, have not had matching outfits since we could speak.
"Individual identity? I don't need that, I have this thoroughly unflattering coat that is far too masculine for me and verging on effeminate for my husband. Our Name is Stevinda."
This is why I have a dog, 54 pairs of shoes, and no boyfriend.
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3 comments:
I have one shirt with a boat on it that I got for going to one of those damn boat races and I never wear it unless Sparky is in a different state.
I think only people with weak personalities become their significant others. You're safe by a long shot.
OH ALSO I'm naming my next pet Stevinda in honor of you.
Hey, they could be a figure skating pair.
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