Tissue Box/ Tissue Tee

Since I am so picky about every item that takes up visual space in my home I grab the cardboard tissue boxes I like and horde them. I haven't seen any I like in ages, but a few years back there was a lovely black on white floral design from Puffs (my brand of choice). In a wall paper or upholstery fabric the pattern would be too traditional for my taste, but it works perfectly dotted around the house. (In the monkey house comfort zone tissues should always be within reach.) I'm ticked off with Puffs because they've changed the style of the Puffs Ultra from a wide U shaped opening to a narrow opening with a pop- tissue like Kleenex does.  The stupid pop-up ones do not fit in my carefully preserved boxes that have been refilled regularly. Now I am stuck refilling with Puffs Plus with lotion. I do not want any stupid lotion in my tissues! D has complained that he can't use them to clean his glasses, and I hate the idea of anything extra where I don't want it. (Like lead and cadmium in my children's toys, artificial sweetners or flavors, etc.)

Go ahead. Mock me mercilessly for being the kind of person who really does save the better looking tissue boxes and restock them. I know. I know.  It doesn't keep me awake at night, it doesn't weigh down the progress of mankind,  or even significantly affect the quality of life here at the monkey house, but it pisses me off all the same. In the big picture the same thing happens every day. Every time I find anything I really like they stop making it. Sometimes it's gone before I even figure out how great it is. Sometimes I manage to stock up a bit. Other times I panic and try to by all I can — when this happens any already tenuous grip I may have on the concept of enough goes flying by faster than I can blink. (What IS enough anyway? More on that another time.) Last winter my quest for the super-thin, stretchy tee ended in victory at Target. I had a very battered, worn out collection from Gap Body dating back more than 6 years. I had the long & short sleeves, and a few tanks and camis. They've been falling apart as the 5% lycra disintegrates and I've worn them anyway. Why? Because they are the most useful, comfortable, essential layering piece there is. Never too bulky, never too tight. Perfect under everything, and great over my workout tank at the gym. So of course they stopped making them.

When I found the long sleeve tissue tee at Target I bought as many as I could. When I couldn't find them locally I bought a few more online. Early this spring I found the short sleeve ones, and again I went berserk. One week I got them on sale for $7.99. I'm not a fashionista, not a clothes horse, as my grandmother would say. I keep it simple. I wear black. Not elegant, understated, expensive black. Basic, practical black things that can take a beating from two five–year–old monkeys. I have been living in black jeans and black tees for as long as I can remember. People ask me why all the time. First I say that if they made clothes in colors I like I would buy them. This is true. (If they made the tissue tees in a dark purple or dark burgundy I would have bought a few of those. I bought some tees in those colors at the Gap last winter. When I wear them they are carefully hidden under all the other black things.) When they persist I explain that everything works together and it's easy to mix and match. That is also true, leaving out shape and length factors. But those are the quick and easy answers. The other true and quick answer is that my personality is loud enough, so my clothes don't have to be. Once I wore colors. Often they were colors I look terrible in, but I was crazy about them at the time. I've been black on black for at least 15 years now, and the longer I've done it, the more a part of my identity it's become. I have some very dark purple skinny jeans that I love. They are dark enough that it's hard to tell they are purple in dim light, and they pop outdoors. I love that I can shock people just by something as simple as wearing purple jeans. Other things I do shock people who don't know me. But people who know me well know what I'm capable of.

I lead a very unconventional life in the early days. So I yearned for the "normal" things. Living in the same place, same house same school, same parents, same siblings. As I got older I began to see how boring a person can be who's had all that. So while I wanted 2.5 kids and a comfortable home -- with a washer and dryer and a dishwasher -- I expected that my version would still have my unique spin on it. And never be just like everybody else. Never be ordinary.