It's been roughly 2.5 months now living out of a small backpack (I've been called Mary Poppins by one of my hosts), and let me tell you one of the first and foremost lessons I've learned from that: it ain't for high-maintenance or fashion-oriented people. I've never really realized how quickly a person goes through clothes until I rocked up to Australia with 4 pairs of shorts, 1 pair of pants, 6 shirts, 3 pairs of socks, and 8 pairs of underoos. Sure I can make up quite a few fashionable combinations--LOLZ just kidding we all know I have no fashion sense whatsoever. Anyhoo, having had an arsenal full of Salvation Army clothes for the majority of my formative years, I've never realized how quickly one goes through clothes. Before this trip, I got away with doing laundry once a month. DO YOU KNOW HOW MANY PAIRS OF UNDERWEAR THAT IS!? And of course I agree with the teaching of the ever-wise Homer Simpson when he taught me that if you "turn your undies inside out you get twice the mileage." No offense to Mr. Simpson, but that donut floozy has never spent all day in the garden. Under the Australian sun. Sweatin' ballz. Covered in dirt. Let me tell you, at the end of the day I is diiiiirty. The last thing I want to do is turn anything I'm wearing inside-out and go a second round.
This brings me to my next point about my drifter-sized wardrobe: wearing the same things day-in-day-out doing physical labor has made me realize that OI! my clothing is not as durable as I thought it was... I noticed this the other day doing my laundry when I started to realize that at least half of the precious 8 pairs of Hanes Her Way that I brought are starting to fray, get holes, and lose their elastic. Oh my god, I've never been good at economics but I completely understand the energy resource crisis now. We're getting farther into summer here and the last few days it's been 40C. Does that sound not warm? Oh, well here's a little conversion lesson for you, America: THAT'S 105 FRIGGIN' FAHRENHEIT! IN THE SUN. If Dom Deluise and Fat Bastard from Austin Powers had a love child, I'd probably sweat more than that unfortunate child**. Translation to that heat stroke influenced rant?: I'm going through a lot more clothing and washing than normal, and oh Lawd give the stitching on my wardrobe strength! At this rate I give my 8 cotton soldiers 2-3 months. If anyone has ever been privy to seeing the ratty clothes that my Dad works out in, I may be a chip off the ol' block after all...
**I realize that this may be a blog that is too revealing, but dignity and discretion are for the weak. And believe me, I know the exact question that is on everyone's mind: HOW is she single?!
Further analysis has shown that of the 3 pairs of socks I brought, 2 pairs now have holes in the toes and heels. MATH LESSON: I ONLY HAVE 1 PAIR OF SOCKS LEFT. #$%@%geaG#QG3gq3q4!# I know, I know, why not buy more socks, undies, and whatever else is I burn through? Well, I have my reasons: 1) stuff is expensive in Australia. Damn taxes. I'll have more fun buying a 6-pack of beer (Dad, that's Australian for 'chocolate milk') than a 6-pack of underwear or socks. 2) I'm going to take the Cosmo Kramer empty-gas-tank-experiment approach to life on this one. I'll see how long I can make this last. Life will be significantly more exciting (albeit less attractive...) this way. Plus, since I'm the Cornell Women's Rugby season is over and I don't have regular access to watching the NFL, it'll give me something to root for. GO UNDERPANTS, GO! YOU CAN MAKE IT 9 MORE MONTHS! BE THE STITCHING! FEEL THE BUUUUUURN!
So, keep my pathetic and over-worked wardrobe in your thoughts and prayers. For anyone who does not find this post incredibly uncouth and un-ladylike, I shall keep you updated. You stay classy, America.
Oh! One last thought. In terms of footwear, if I ever reach the party cities and try to paint the town red, I'm going to have to do it in Teva sandals. Get at me, gentlemen.
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