It is cold outside. Very cold. I bought myself a coat this winter. My mom found it for me and I paid the eighty dollars and my coat came to me. It is a gold-ish sort of color (not like bright, mind you) and I liked it for a while.
And then I went to school. School requires you to take notes. Notes require a pen. Pens write all over everything. And so I ended up with a coat covered in pen marks.
I pretreated it last night with hairspray (it sort of works with ink), and sent it through the wash. The pen marks faded, but didn’t disappear. And I found even more pen marks that I hadn’t noticed the first time through. It was getting late and I was frustrated, but I asked my mom what to do and she told me to treat it with rubbing alcohol, which works better. So I did. Only to find out that instead of alcohol, I had used witch hazel. I had already put my coat in the washer, so I had to grab the soaking mess out, get a thing of alcohol, not witch hazel, and then end up dumping it all over my coat in frustration.
Well. When it came out of the washer (at almost ten), it seemed all right this time. I stuck it in the dryer. My coat recommends I dry it with “three tennis balls or a clean sneaker” (seriously, that is what my tag says), so I threw in a sandal and went to bed.
The results? My coat is just like new. I can’t even see the pen. Thank goodness, because even though I really don’t like coats, it’s really, really cold today.
I just typed that out and realized that it was a very boring story. Oh well. You read it anyway.