As you know, I like being creative. It’s fun. It satisfies something inside. Monica has her own version of creativity, which is sewing. She is creative in other areas, such as cooking and baking, but sewing is her current pursuit. As you know, with creative pursuits come purchases for supplies. Usually. That’s part of the excitement! Monica’s most recent creative purchase was a dress form. As I understand, the dress form allows one to prop up a current project – dress, jacket, shirt – with the proportions of the upper body. Simply put, it’s a torso used for fitting clothing.
Our house is organized such that the computer room and sewing room are the same room. And it’s not organized. I said organized before, which was a mistake. Perhaps I should have said oriented or laid out. Whatever. Then again, I wasn’t referring to the specific room when I said organized. I meant the way the house is laid out, not the room. (I almost fucked it all up, but made a slick recovery.) Anyway, Crock of Shirt stuff happens alongside sewing stuff, which means the room is full of shirts, the computer and printer on the desk, paper, sewing stuff, fabric, and tables. That’s the big stuff. The little shit consists of bits of thread, paper, shipping bags, more paper, sewing needles, bits of paper, bits of fabric, pens, pencils, markers, paper, knives, business cards, and sometimes the cat. And to add to the whole shitmix is a dress form stuffed in the corner. But hey, it’s all good.
What isn’t so good is I’m still not used to the dress form, so most times when I enter the room now, I piss my pants a little because there’s a “person” standing in the corner when I enter the room and look around the door. Freaks me out. I’m thankful it doesn’t have a head on it, or I’d probably shit my shorts thinking it’s an intruder. Hopefully Monica doesn’t get into making camouflage shit or I’ll think the military has come to bust up my shit. Though I don’t believe I have any reason for the military to bust up my shit. My most frequent mistaken identity with the dress form is a Canadian Mountie in Red Serge uniform. The dress form is red with black details, so when I see it I immediately think Mountie. Stupid, I know, but I can’t help it. Why would a Mountie be in my house? Why would she be wearing traditional dress? And where would the horse be parked? Just the other day I went downstairs to grab something from the storage room and the “officer” was standing in the middle of the family room to give me another streak in my underwear when I flicked on the lights. Unbeknownst to me, Monica had moved the dress form to the other room. I can’t even go to the storage room to grab a jar of fuckin’ pickles without the cops following me in here.
Below: Here’s the dress form. Looks like a Mountie, right? The red top with the black trim gets me. Even more convincing would be a moustache and Mountie hat.