So this past weekend, I dug out the lights, plugged them in, cursed at the ones that had committed suicide in the basement over the summer, drove out to buy more, searched and searched and searched and finally found the extension cords and the timers and the little plastic thingies that I use to attach, well, things, and after three or four hours, this happened:
|That's a snowflake in the window, not a flower. Shut up.|
You see, on each of the boxes which contained these strands of lights was the word white. I know, because I got out my flashlight, dug through the rubbermaid containers and checked.
No, I joke not. I checked.
There was no green. No blue. No whitish. No vaguely-pinkish-but-that-might-be-a-trick-of-the-camera. No, my friends, on each and every box, spelled out quite clearly is the word white. Now on one box, it is true, it says warm white. Can you guess which strand had that rather comforting label? Wrong! It's the blue ones, which, I must tell you all, do not look even slightly warm to me. In fact, that label seemed to be such an obvious mistake that I climbed upon the stepstool to touch the blue lights and see if by warm the manufacturer might be referring to temperature.
Yet again, I joke not. Upon the stepstool I did climb.
The blue lights remain cool. They look cool, as blue so often does. But do you know, precious ones, what those blue lights are not? They are not white.
Now, I know what you're thinking out there in cyberville. You're thinking, "Oh you fool! Have you never used LED lights before? Did you not know that you have to buy exactly the same brand with the same label all at the same time to get matching lights, even if that means buying entirely new lights every single year?" And to that I respond: No I did not know that. And I damn well wish I didn't know it now. It has leeched much of the bounciness out of my spirit and thrown a whitish cloud of disappointment over the holiday season.
But after much shouting and whining and vaguely hostile cursing, I did eventually find a way to regain my jollity.
I bought a new shower curtain.