The Unmentionable Post

Friend: So, are you going to talk about farts on your blog?

Me: What? Why would I talk about farts?

Friend: Everyone does. Farts and poop. It's the lingua franca of blogs.

Me: I can't believe you just used lingua franca and poop in the same sentence. That's why I like you.

Friend: You haven't answered the question.

Me: I can't talk about farts. In my family we didn't have them. We didn't even pass gas. We had gas, we just didn't pass it. It was Unmentioned. Well, except for my sister. But she went to a liberal arts college, so there you are.

Friend: No farts. Well, what embarassing subject are you going to cover then? How about underwear?

Me: I told you, my family reads it. I refuse to subject my children to discussion of my stance on the thong vs visible panty line issue.

Friend: Okay, but like I said, everyone does it.

Me: So now I have to be a blogging lemming?

Friend: Just saying it's going to happen. Now that it's out there the Underwear Topic is going to haunt you until you post. Trust me.

Me: I can't trust you, you have visible panty lines! Hey, I just realized I can talk about some else's underwear can't I?

Friend: Naturally. In fact, that's even better.

Obligatory underwear story:

I had a college roommate who was an amazing woman. She was at least 5'10", blond, blue eyes and fantastically beautiful. She was also incredibly funny and owned a pair of Beige Briefs. I know I abuse capitals, but these things were proper noun Beige Briefs. None of us were quite sure where the BB's came from - rumor had it her grandmother donated them, but the roommate never divulged the source. She didn't confess to their existence right away; it took at least two weeks of getting-to-know you talk about really intimate things like the seven best ways to fix Ramen noodles, and how many of us could pick up pencils with our toes (all but two). But one night discussion turned to the strangest thing we had each brought to college, and out came the Beige Briefs.

Geni out of the bottle - no turning back. The Briefs once free from the drawer began an exotic life of travel and adventure. They were found coyly peeking around the front window curtain. They snuggled up to a stolen pair of boxers (no one confessed to that one) on the couch and were discovered in flagrante the next morning. They acquired legs (thanks to a slightly-run pair of pantyhose stuffed with a variety of interesting objects) and began appearing in various beds, on chairs, in closets etc. For a pair of off-brown, up above the navel panties these were some exciting underwear.

The magic couldn't last of course. Finally we received a note saying the Briefs had eloped with some tighty whities they met at an evening social. Don't look for me, they said, I've found my happiness. We all wished them well.

Two weeks later we got a picture of the Beige Briefs and beloved relaxing on a beach that looked remarkably like the sandy playground at the local school. I like to think they're still out there somewhere, those Beige Briefs. Probably getting on a bit now, maybe sagging at the elastic, but still exuding that air of savoir faire, and telling marvelous stories to the cluster of Disney Princess panties and glow-in-the-dark Star Wars briefs that gather around in the evening. We should all be so lucky.