Sunday, September 13, 2009


I don't hang my undies on the clothesline to dry.
I am all for conserving energy -- and use the clothesline in good weather for just about everything else, but I don't hang my underwear out.
This has nothing to do with modesty and everything to do with competition. A competition that is likely only in my head, and one that I can't win. My neighbour (I won't say who) has really nice gitch, and she hangs it on the line. This is the kind of underwear that I only see in movies and at La Vie En Rose. You know, coral and peach, pink, black, stripey blue, all matching bras and panties. I don't own that much underwear, and I'm lucky that mine's clean, never mind all matchy-matchy.
So, I don't hang mine out. The world can just imagine that mine's too nice, too delicate, to expose to the elements.

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