Day 10--Storm Warning

Not to be too literal, but I always feel a little bit strange wearing snowflake sweaters when there are none on the ground (snowflakes, that is. A ground covered with sweaters would be called "Heaven").  To me, it's the equivalent of a Christmas sweater in February...it just seems out of place.  So when the forecasters were all in a tizzy about "thundersnow" and blizzard-like conditions, I knew it was time to bring out some of my snowflake day players.

Can you see the cat hair from there?  Of course you can (and while I usually where Ozzie's fur as a badge of honor, this sweater seemed to pick up any cat hair within wifi range).  I'm not opposed to wearing a black sweater...in fact, I relish the opportunity to pair one with anything that I can't otherwise match.  But, despite those perky little snowflakes on the sleeve, this one seems awfully depressing.

I think I was trying to channel those old pictures from the 40s of celebrities at Sun Valley or Chamonix (or, at the very least, skiiers from the 70s on "Wide World of Sports")...but the combination of boiled wool, excessive pilling, and cat hair pretty much eliminated any hopes that I had of looking "sporty" in this little number.  My Mom said that it looked like something a 12-year old boy would wear...and I'm fairly certain that wasn't a compliment.

My rating: Kris Humphries.  Not sporty.  Not good looking.  Not worth writing in complete sentences (or correct grammar) for.  This sweater, however, made it longer than 72 days (The Limited, circa 2000?)...but it won't last one more.  If anyone is looking for a lint brush, let me know...I'll make you an offer.