My house was built in 1936, and I love the charm of it. The closet space is
a tic limited though, what with people owning a lot less clothes back in
them days, and what with me having far too much stuff I don't need.

Anyway, I digress, this piece of scribbling is in regards to dating, so let
me get back to that: because of my small closets, and because I'm a single
woman I use all the closets in my house for my own personal use. Try to hang your coat in the front entry when you come to visit and you'll find it's already packed full of my shirts and sweaters, sorry.

This weekend, my girlfriend Jody and I are going to the winter carnival
festivities, and I thought I might need my snow-pants (purchased as part of
a lot of expensive snowmobiling gear for a weekend with a one-time date,
just fyi...), so I was rifling through closets and corners trying to find
them. My house is fairly clean, but because of the skimpy closet space, I
have some seasonal clothing in baskets, tucked away here and there.

I saw a basket full of swim suits and summer clothes (stacked in size order,
the smallest sizes being at the bottom of the stack. Ladies, I know you know
what I'm talkin' about...).

Anyway, I took this basket out from a closet to look for the elusive
snow-pants, and was surprised to find a pair of men's underwear crouching
behind it.

After a second or two of bewildered scrutiny, a few things ran through my
head:
1.) I haven't had a man at my house in a real long time, at least one who
stayed over, and obviously came with a packed bag (unless he left sans
undergarments).
2.) I have dated a couple of sexy asses (yes, I meant that, both ways) in
the past two years, but I'll be darned if these undies rang a bell wit me,
as to who the owner might be.
3.) I notice things like that, so it's unusual I wouldn't remember. These
were dang sexy underwear.
4.) Hit me like a slap in the face - could it be that I'm SO completely
recovered from my forlorn previous loveships, that I just don't give a rap
WHOSE they are? Kicked right out of the old memory bank, if you will.

Yes. It could.

On the other end of that rainbow - I was driving to work this morning, and I
must have shifted my arm quickly to turn the wheel (probably to avoid one of the several hundred giant potholes on the Penn Ave ramp onto 62, btw, wth?), and the suddenness of that move sent the aroma of the leather jacket I was wearing, over me, in a burst of memory. Consequently, my mind instantly played a mini-movie of the cowboy and yes, tears sprang to my eyes, however briefly. It took me by surprise.

Is this an argument for my friend's friend's theory? I don't know.

Is it just part of life; healing, progressing, adapting, having um... feelings and emotions? I'm more inclined to think so.