Collecting things has always kind of been...my thing. When I was a little kid, I absolutely had to have every new GI Joe that came out. I had so many GI Joes that we had to build shelves in my room for them. When I was a teenager, I started collecting comic books. Comics were an obsession that lasts even to this very day, but when I got into college I began with a whole new collection...of Christmas clothes. I wanted to be different, and wearing nothing but Christmas shirts sure struck me as being different.
When I get an idea in my head like this, I really take the ball and run with it. Not only to I try to get a touchdown, but I run that ball right out of the park like a modern day Forrest Gump. I felt like the whole college scene was way too dominated by what people wore and how they looked. I wanted to prove that you could wear something completely lame and still manage to have friends and dates. Before I knew it, I had around 15 of these Christmas t-shirts with Santas and snow and all kinds of ridiculous crap.
Whatever statement I was trying to make with these Christmas tees didn't matter, because the whole thing worked so very well. It worked so well, as a matter of fact, that I found myself talking to a raven-haired beauty one night at a party. This was one of those conversations that last all night long and the party pretty much fazes out of focus. No one existed except for her. I don't know if that was love at first sight, but I know it was something special. What was even weirder was that not a single word was said about that what I was wearing.
A few weeks later, we were in a full-fledged relationship. A few months after that, we were living together and about as happy as I ever thought I could be. I kept wearing my Christmas clothes the whole time. We were going out one night to visit friends and have a few beers. I put on one of my favorite shirts that has Santa peeing in the snow on it. For one brief moment I saw my sweet girlfriend give me a disdainful look as I pulled it over my head. I immediately asked her what was wrong, as any good boyfriend should. She said simply, "When are we going to be done with this whole Christmas t-shirt thing, sweetheart?"
The time had come to put this Christmas obsession business behind me. Throwing them away seemed like a tragic waste, so my lady and I picked out a homeless mission to give them to. I was shocked to see how few normal clothes I had in my closet when we packed up somewhere around a hundred of these things. There was only a twinge of sadness when I gave them all away to that mission, but it didn't last. I had a sweet woman to keep me happy and my OCD was no match for her love.
We fast-forward to a few months later, and the Holidays were upon us. My girlfriend is a great person and upon her suggestion, we decided to donate our time to serving the homeless on Christmas Eve. Without really thinking about it too much, we went to the same shelter that I donated my shirts to. When we arrived, we were both floored by what we saw. Almost a hundred men and women were there wearing the Christmas t-shirts I had given months earlier. It was festive and just seemed somehow...right. We walked to the serving line and I realized tears were in my eyes. I finally knew what all of that Christmas crap was really for.
When I get an idea in my head like this, I really take the ball and run with it. Not only to I try to get a touchdown, but I run that ball right out of the park like a modern day Forrest Gump. I felt like the whole college scene was way too dominated by what people wore and how they looked. I wanted to prove that you could wear something completely lame and still manage to have friends and dates. Before I knew it, I had around 15 of these Christmas t-shirts with Santas and snow and all kinds of ridiculous crap.
Whatever statement I was trying to make with these Christmas tees didn't matter, because the whole thing worked so very well. It worked so well, as a matter of fact, that I found myself talking to a raven-haired beauty one night at a party. This was one of those conversations that last all night long and the party pretty much fazes out of focus. No one existed except for her. I don't know if that was love at first sight, but I know it was something special. What was even weirder was that not a single word was said about that what I was wearing.
A few weeks later, we were in a full-fledged relationship. A few months after that, we were living together and about as happy as I ever thought I could be. I kept wearing my Christmas clothes the whole time. We were going out one night to visit friends and have a few beers. I put on one of my favorite shirts that has Santa peeing in the snow on it. For one brief moment I saw my sweet girlfriend give me a disdainful look as I pulled it over my head. I immediately asked her what was wrong, as any good boyfriend should. She said simply, "When are we going to be done with this whole Christmas t-shirt thing, sweetheart?"
The time had come to put this Christmas obsession business behind me. Throwing them away seemed like a tragic waste, so my lady and I picked out a homeless mission to give them to. I was shocked to see how few normal clothes I had in my closet when we packed up somewhere around a hundred of these things. There was only a twinge of sadness when I gave them all away to that mission, but it didn't last. I had a sweet woman to keep me happy and my OCD was no match for her love.
We fast-forward to a few months later, and the Holidays were upon us. My girlfriend is a great person and upon her suggestion, we decided to donate our time to serving the homeless on Christmas Eve. Without really thinking about it too much, we went to the same shelter that I donated my shirts to. When we arrived, we were both floored by what we saw. Almost a hundred men and women were there wearing the Christmas t-shirts I had given months earlier. It was festive and just seemed somehow...right. We walked to the serving line and I realized tears were in my eyes. I finally knew what all of that Christmas crap was really for.
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