Wednesday, January 21, 2009

New Jeans

I have a serious pants deficiency. I own exactly six pairs of jeans. One of which I bought in high school, but it fits and is decent-looking, one of which fits and is falling apart in every way possible, two of which have holes too big to be ignored in places too inappropriate to be ignored, one of which fits me in a way similar to that of your grandmother's stretchy-sort-of-jean material, light-blue-jean-colored pants do (those of you familiar with SNL might call them Mom Jeans), and one of which fits me a lot like a trash bag might (I bought this pair for my fat days, but it turns out my days are never quite fat enough to make them look good). In other words, I have two pairs of jeans that I wear, one of which is quickly becoming another pair with holes too big to be ignored. Most people in the financial position (not great, but good enough to buy pants at least once a year) that I am in, and with the level of intelligence (also not great, but good enough to recognize when new clothes are a luxury and when they are a necessity) that I have would have, by all reasonable paths of logic, come to the conclusion that a pair or two of new blue jeans should be purchased about two and a half years ago.

But, as I'm sure you can imagine by my current problem, I am not most people. So, what am I to do?

My initial reaction is to go to my default reason for not doing anything: I don't have a car. Then... I buy a car. So I move on to the next tried and true excuse for not doing anything: I don't have any money. While this one is still true, it's probably not very valid because I can rationalize spending the little money that I do have on things of much less importance, such as Tucano's and the sheet music for "Open Arms" as made famous by Journey. So, I feel that although my funds are small, they're plentiful enough to splurge on a pair or two of very useful and hopefully stylish jeans. Now that I've gotten past both of these hefty excuses, I make a few trips to the mall. No luck. No pants fit me. THIS, I discover, is the reason for my lack of pants.

Here's where the beautiful and talented Malba (formerly known as Mal Bop, formerly known as Mallory) comes in. She so kindly is going to tutor me in the art of shopping since it's one of my least favorite things to do, and I'm pretty excited about it. This story is to be continued after what I'm sure will be a more successful adventure at the mall than I've previously had. Wish me luck, America. I am finally going to find some jeans to add to my collection after about three and a half years.

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