Oh. My. God. Tragedy struck today. That is all.
Just kidding! I’m going to tell you the story of how tragic my morning was. Don’t worry, it has a happy ending.
This morning I had double off-campus block, so I was sitting in the living room with my parents, chatting about life and things like that [I just jumped a foot off my chair because there was an ant on the edge of the counter and I thought it was a spider. I felt it was necessary to inform you, in case I seem frazzled. It has been a frazzling day.]. So there I was, chatting, drinking grapefruit juice, and contemplating life, and I moved. Now this wasn’t a huge motion. No cartwheels, or splits here. No, I just moved my leg to get more comfortable, and what do I hear?
KKCCCHHHHHHDDDDDDDDIIIIITTTT. [That’s a ripping sound.]
Yes. My favourite pants had a large gash, about 6 inches in length up my backside. So my first thoughts are “Oh my God! Those midnight marshmallows have taken their toll! I have just busted out of a pair of pants that were comfortably big on me two days ago! What a travesty!” No worries, I checked things out, and it turns out they were quite worn all around that area – being my favourite pants, I’m not surprised they weren’t in tatters like my last pair of favourite pants [an entire leg fell off those ones… I sewed it back on and continued to wear them for a good three more months.]. So the midnight marshmallows continue.
So I look up at my parents and realize: this is the only pair of pants I have accessible! As I have packed for my pre-location/relocation, I have only left one pair of pants to wear for the next couple of days [y’all know you never wear more than one pair of jeans a week, so don’t give me that look] trading off with sweatpants – and there is no way I am wearing sweatpants for an entire week. That’s disgusting. I also was down to only one pair of day to day pants, as all my other ones have ginormous holes in them/dangling pant legs. So it was obviously time to go on a quest – the quest for 32 inch inseam that wasn’t too big in the waist. Yeah, good luck. So off we went, my mother and I, to one of the stores in the northern town we live in that doesn’t only sell rubber boots and woolies – nothing against woolies, I love mine.
When I saw the jean selection at this store I was not pleased. I’m very selective about my denim. I like it lightly stone washed, not bright blue, nothing fancy and/or dangly on the back pockets, none of that ridiculous “whiskering” crap, and no pre-made holes. I prefer them to be straight legged also, since I have moderately wide-load hips in comparison to the rest of my body, and like to even them out. I will not wear flared pants, however. Ever. Never ever.
So the jeans at this store… well… they had, please make sure you’re sitting down, good, RHINESTONE STUDDED BUTTS. “Oh no way” is what you probably just thought. Oh yes, it’s true. Jeweled tush. Can you imagine for a moment:
-trying to sit down
-trying to go down a slide
-sitting on something, anything, that is upholstered in leather?!
I also am not… well, that type of girl. I don’t wear fancy pants. Literally, fancy pants. For Christ’s sake.
Needless to say I didn’t purchase pants at this retail location. My next plan of attack was the local skate shop, and here’s where it gets good!
I was greeted at the door by a table of pants. 2 for 1 pants. Yes, that’s two pairs of pants, for the price of ONE pair of pants. And we all know that decent, non-ripping pants are not cheap. So I got not one, but TWO pairs of pants [for the price of one] and they’re so cute. I haven’t ever actually owned a pair of black jeans, but now I do. Congratulations, me.