Hitting the Reset Button

February 2, 2015 at 11:23 am (One Particular Angel, Sweet sticky things)

Outie the CatAngel looked at my feet? “New shoes? They look just like your old ones.”

“They are just like my old ones. Nike Air Monarch, black, size 13 4E. My last pair were good for five-hundred miles, I figure.”

She was grinning.

“And don’t start singing that fucking song!”

I would walk five-hundred miles;
And I would…

When I find something I like, I stick with it. It’s the bane of all my girlfriends’ existence, I’m sure. My “look” changes about every ten years. My clothes, a little more often, but only because I have a bunch of the same kinds of things.

Pocket tees have been a staple since 1990. I wore sweatpants for twenty years, but switched over last year to denim jeans. I do have a pair of camouflage cargo pants for when I feel like going back to my outlaw hillbilly roots, but I wear them as laundry pants most of the time.

Bottom line, stuff wears out. It was time to refresh.

I love tax season. I get back some of the money strip-mined off my paycheck. It amounts to a bonus paycheck once a year, and what used to be woohoo partytime is now “Thank the gawds I can meet rent and have a real dinner.” The last few months have been tight, but I’m coming out of it.

Financially as well as mentally. It has not been a fast process.

old spitI hit the grocery store, grabbing distilled water and Secret Aardvark habanero sauce. (One to help me breathe, one to take my breath away.) Economy tub of green Gold Bond. Razor blades, shaving cream, Old Spit for the shaving days, which is every day, until the lumberjack phase fades out. Thanks to Rain, I still have about 600 ibuprofen pills left, so mobility is enabled for 2-3 months.

I couldn’t afford to go full-on clothes shopping, so I evaluated. Jeans are just about perfectly broken in, albeit they are now two sizes too big. (In a surprising turn of events, Mom, MY BRITCHES ARE NOW TOO BIG FOR ME! Bwahahaha…) I need a new belt, but Gorilla tape is holding the old one together just fine. What else?

I have coats, thanks to Meg and Rain. Rain gave me the Great Pumpkin, a caution-orange puffy coat rated to -30 degrees. (I don’t wear it until it’s below +30 degrees.) Meg gifted me an army-green raincoat, that looks like a field jacket, only with better design. I will miss wearing it in the summertime. I’m sure the girlfriends will not miss it at all. It’s omnipresent. I’m like a hippie Columbo.

The Vest. I’d love to be in the room (and alert) at my funeral, to listen to the girls bitch about “that goddamn thing I never stop wearing.” I’ve had a safari vest of some sort since the mid-’90s, and have been told it looks like I’m on a perpetual fishing trip. (It hasn’t been so bad since I stopped wearing the boonie hat.) I switched from army green to covert-spy black, and now I have more of a Mad Max vibe going on. When I unload it on laundry day, it reminds me of that scene in Thunderdome when they have Max empty his pockets. I can fill a six-pack bag.

The one I’ve been wearing was a gift from Art East. He’d discovered Andy & Bax, the military surplus store that is like H&M for guys. He liked the functionality, but not the fit, so he asked if I wanted it. It was only a Large, no Xs in front. A year ago, it was a snug fit. Now it’s almost too big. I don’t mind roomy, but the zippers and pockets were wearing out/wearing through. It will go into reserve duty, for rock concerts and trips where I can be hands-free without having to go through the aforementioned unloading of the vest.

Off to Andy & Bax. I felt (and looked) like a hippie wingnut when I went inside, when I realized how much of their stuff I was wearing at that moment. I went to the vest section, deep disappointed sigh. The vests I love were replaced with a cheaper, more expensive version. Shotgun shell bandolier above my key pocket? Unless I get back into multiple harmonica playing, there is no need for that. I want to be mistaken for a photographer, not fucking Ted Nugent.

Home to the internet, without buying bear mace or a new knife. I found what I wanted for $60 on Amazon. Exact same thing Art gave me. Yes! It should arrive in a couple days.

There were other things. I have a pie tin used for cooking. It is black, but I don’t think it started out that way. When I saw heavy-duty ones at the Dollar Tree, I bought two. I have a fresh one for if I ever talk another girl into coming home with me. Aardvark sauce was a big one. I have a brick and a half of Tillamook cheese, and three pints of ice cream. Oh, and a new phone. More on that later.

Bills are caught up for a while. Got food. Slightly more room now that The Suitcase is outside. I woke up this morning without the crushing feeling of depression sitting on my chest. A text message from Angel, wanting to see me during our passing of the torch. I’ll be sitting outside her work, so she can walk me to my work.

I’m good.


  1. ArtEast said,

    Dang, $60 on Amazon?
    Gives a whole new meaning to ‘in-vesting’.
    Enjoy your stories as usual!

  2. beastard said,

    I got them at Freddy’s/Kroger’s. $15 cheaper, and no waiting. One correction, I still wear an X-Large vest. Saw the label and panicked! Nifty new phone allowed me to fix order in about five minutes. Woohoo!

  3. beastard said,

    Sorry, Art, Just woke up. Bwahahaha. You know how I love teh puns.

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