So much in the newspapers lately about Cuba.
Shouldn’t we be happy there is a nation in the Western World that is committed to consuming less?
I have had this desire for many years to give up my clothing and spend my life in a series of jumpsuits. Coveralls, if you will. My good friend Dan had the nerve and follow through to get on Ebay and purchase a couple. He showed up in his at Jeff’s (his brother) for dinner. He brought me mine. I was so excited, I wanted to split my pants. Thank you Jeff, for the delicious chicken.
I couldn’t wear my jumpsuit last night, as it wasn’t yet washed and had the rough feeling of a tarp. But today, after two washings, I donned my hard denim gas-station man outfit and went out into the world.
First stop: House Warming/Meet our freshly adopted son at the lovely home of a very skinny gay couple in Beachwood Canyon. It was one thing when all my straight friends over forty were having children. Now the gay ones, well into their forties, are procuring little brown ones. My suit was met mostly with indifference (How dare these parties be about children instead of about me?) I received a warm compliment from the fabulous actress, Amy Hill. We both loved the lemon parfait desserts. While very thin, well dressed gay men ran after their chicly clad children or carried them around like the latest Gucci bag they received at a Hollywood Swag give-away, I stood motionless in my onesie, wondering if someone would dare ask to change my diaper. Mostly, I was asked to change the oil in people’s cars.
After this event, and don’t get me wrong, I do love children and I hope gay people keep having them, we went to my Recognized-by-the-State-of-California-Domestic-Partner, Adam’s, book club. These are very old friends. All of them straight (Okay, one of them is into Trannies) and there were two little girls enjoying themselves on the carpet. These loyal friends loved the onesie. But then, they understand my ironic clothing choices, my loathing of convention and my need for attention. They are used to me trying on ridiculous get-ups, the scary tight bathing suit, the occasional fright wig.
And though I do like a lot of variety in living, I also long to keep things simple. My onesie is a stab in that direction.
We must simplify. On the subject of global warming: the last time the earth heated up like this, after a while, the ocean currents really did change. When the currents changed, 95% of all living things on the earth became extinct.
Onesie, anyone?
4 comments:
Pictures, please.
Your timing is perfect, since I am currently in the process of downsizing from my 4-bedroom house on 1/4 acre to a 2-bedroom duplex on a postage stamp. I can't believe the amount of JUNK I've had to jettison. It feels soooooooo good. I'm all for the onsie. We wore them in the 70's, remember? My butt looked better in them then that it does now, though.
Yesterday I was at a conference at the Biltmore hotel. At one of the sessions I sat next to a curator from the California Science Center. He was wearing olive-khaki pants and a matching jacket but, since I am married to a onesie-wearing man, I told him I liked his jumpsuit. He looked at me like I was a freakshow, and explained that he was not wearing a jumpsuit. Then I tried to explain why I had jumpsuits on the brain but then I just sounded more like a freakshow. Hmph.
Again, my antics have got my Recognized-by-the-State-of-California-wife in a fix.
My dream is to have a party where everyone wears a navy onesie. I haven't worked out the footwear yet. So far there are only two of us properly equiped, please join us. It's warm and toasty in our onesie.
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