Color Me Beautiful

When my son was little, we organized his clothes by color. This made it easy for him to find what he was looking for. Matching was never a problem, but now neither was choosing. I organize my clothes by type. Dress clothes, casual clothes, short sleeve shirts, long sleeve shirts. As many of my shirts hanging in the closet are plaid, and therefore, multi-color, this has never occurred to me. Looking at my t-shirts, which are in open shelves, I thought I might want to organize them by color. I often pick a t-shirt based on color, so going to the grey shelf or the blue shelf would make this morning choice a little easier. Most of these t-shirts are conference swag promoting a long-forgotten tech company, so it really is about the color, not the message.

The Intimacy of Music

Scrolling through someone else’s old iPod has the potential for unearthing embarrassing moments of their past. These flashes of bad taste could speak to larger issues of incompatibility. As you get to know someone, the sharing and the overlap of things you love, things you hate, and things that make you dance around the room in joy but you don’t really admit to anyone are the space where intimacy happens. The opportunity for self-discovery with hundreds of her songs in my hand short-circuited the teasing out of that process. The most cringe-worthy thing I found was a product of its time and the most fist-pumping thing I found was the right song by a relatively obscure pop band. No tectonic shifts ahead.

Where’s My Car?

Whenever I drive to the airport, I take a picture of my parking area so I can easily find my car upon my return. This is something I have done for years, regardless if the trip is short or long. As I was flying home from a trip I realized that I didn’t know where I had parked my car. My plane was landing and I noticed that I didn’t have a picture either. That’s because my girlfriend drove me to the airport.