I have just about given up on matching socks, they just get dumped in a basket and need to either find themselves or hope the person in need gets lucky. This morning I was that unlucky soul in search of two of the same toe-huggers. But it was then that I had these deep thoughts. Socks. A necessity, coming in pairs always needing it’s match. After speaking to one of my single cousins later that morning it was confirmed, listening to his struggle about finding “the one” or at least a normal one I needed to write my thoughts down.
Finding a soul-mate is like searching for two socks in the dryer. Chasing after one another, waiting for intervention from another source, they continue traveling in the same circles, cycle after cycle. Only once the owner removes the laundry from the dryer and starts to fold clothing will the two become united to make one complete match. But like most of us it may take up to 20 loads of laundry until the two finally get together. When I was dating it took a toll on my ego. I didn’t get set up much and when I did, most of the time they were not direct hits or even a close target. (PS-Target: GOOD PLACE TO BY NEW SOCKS). It was disheartening, and difficult to watch my close friends find their soul mates (or sole-mates, get that?), my own dating history being as dismal as it was.
There was the med student, on paper that was so promising. I thought , “I could be the wife of a docta’!” Short-lived dream since that was by the far the worst. date. ever. The guy mentioned a puss-filled abscess in some patient’s rectum. Dude, not coffee conversation with a potential girlfriend or anyone else not studying medicine, JUST by the way. Also, it’s probably a good idea to ask if she even LIKES coffee. There was the really tall lawyer, so good-looking – but I could only tell that if we were in a sitting position face to face. I felt like his kid sister when we walked down the block. Clearly I had to let him go. Then there was the guy with the broken tooth that just talked about how amazing he was. The one that was color blind who needed a therapist not a wife. The list goes on.
There were some really good ones though. The physical therapist, the EMT for the FDNY, and of course the one that took me for my very first visit ever to the top of the Empire State Building. It wasn’t like a Meg Ryan, Tom Hanks moment but it was cool. He was the one I married. He was my sock. I had to convince my friends of course, but eventually they stopped laughing, realized it wasn’t a practical joke and that I was serious.
The need to share your life with someone at a certain point becomes so overwhelming that the thought of being completely alone is terrifying. So what do we see? Single women clutching to their friendships, taking vacations with groups of other women finding reasons to get together so as not to be alone. If you are single and reading this, don’t think I am being judgemental, if I were still in that place chances are I’d be doing the same thing. Women need other women in their lives in order to keep sane. BUT we also need the men…at least some of the time.
While on maternity leave after my first-born, I sort of became basket cas-ey and needed to have someone with me to pass the hours between feedings. Being a new mom, I was tired all the time, I was in pain from nursing, and I never left the house, the thought of schlepping all that baby paraphernalia was intimidating. One of my oldest and best friends was also on maternity leave and we spent the days in each other’s company either at my house or hers, reading magazines, sipping Slurpees, and generally watching TLC (which for those of you who don’t know stands for The Learning Channel). We would take turns complaining about how our spouses were not helping out enough. (Of course we were being petty and nothing would have ever been good enough in our sleep-deprived states).
My ‘perfect’ match was truly perfect for me, its a matter of opinion and the best opinion is yours and yours alone. Sure they do maddening things at times like feigning sleep when a screeching toddler is begging to be held in the middle of the night.
1AM screaming from the other room…I call out to my sock, “wake up, its your turn”, to which he grunted and made a sort of snorting attempt at the fake snore. I tried a few more times at verbal attempts with increased decibels.
He was playing with fire. So the ammo came out. Gentle toss. Direct hit. He turned over. Lobbed a decent throw with one of the balled socks I kept next to my bed for times like this. I heard snort snort. That was it. Full on attack while screaming. “Get UP”, throw, “I MEAN it”, chuck, taking no prisoners, kaboom boom boom. Oh look who got up, how nice of him. Yes, I think I will go back to sleep. Thanks honey.
I know it’s hard to keep searching for your sock. My sock was really persistent, calling night after night never giving up until I finally gave in to one date. Persistence will produce results. You’ll either convince someone to love you or you’ll annoy them so much they may sue you. Look, sometimes it may not work out but you never know unless you really try. Investing the time it takes to making a life-long commitment does not happen after only one date. No one said love comes easy except this band from the ’70’s who called themselves the Stylistics. Ich.
Here are some important things to keep in mind: A basket full of unmatched socks is still better than a drawer full of pairs for one. Give it everything you’ve got. There are even times that the odd socks make a decent match. Oh and of course this, we have lots of sock puppets – you’ll need those later on if all goes well. 😉