“What color is your raincoat?”
All I care to say is that today is the first day in two weeks that I haven’t had to wear my tired old raincoat. I’ve started to develop a theory that in the Pacific Northwest my raincoat is an intrinsic part of I am. It is with me everywhere I go; people can recognize me by the color and brand I wear; and it seems to be in every other picture of me. Of course, I didn’t know this when I first arrived and I’m sorry to report that my raincoat only goes with a little over half the clothes I wear. Big mistake! Next time, I think I’ll go for a black or blue one, which while indistinguishable from most others, will at least go with a larger percentage of my wardrobe. What does that say about me? Am I just trying to fit it? Is my identity going to be more mainstream simply because of the color of my raincoat? Will I move out of Oregon before this issue leads to an existential crisis?