Saturday, November 14, 2009

Resolved: We are investing in kilts.

LB and I have both recently had pants-related disasters which have left me wondering whether we are responsible enough to be allowed to wear them.

Mine:
So the other day I was wearing my skinny jeans. But these particular skinny jeans are a little weird; they seem to get skinnier every time I wash them and never relax again. Also? While they have plenty of room in the butt, hips and thigh, what I didn't expect is that they would be tight on my monstrous calves (srsly. I have had distance runners astonished by my calf muscle size). So after work I change into my sweats. This day, as I am attempting to pull my skinny jeans off my calves, and they are just not coming off; they are much tighter than usual. I gather my strength give a good jerk, managing to yank so hard that I pull my feet out from under me. As I am falling, in what can only be described as fortuitous clumsiness, instead of landing straight on the floor I instead fall into the corner of the mattress, bounce off in the opposite direction, then land on the floor - looking very dignified with my jeans around my ankles.

LB's:
LB has this ancient pair of dress pants he had somehow inherited, and whether they were structurally sound was in question. This question was answered several months ago, when LB bent over and ripped the buttcrack seam. Like, all the way from taint to waistband. Normally I mend clothes, since between the two of us, I am the least unhandy with a needle. But this was too much for me; I knew that A) I would not be able to get a straight line so his butt would look wavy and B) I would get an ADHD attack halfway through and the stitches would get large and ineffective. So I told him to take them to a tailor. Apparently at some point he instead put them back into the laundry hamper, and they were washed and folded as usual. The other day, LB put them on and wore them to work, NOT NOTICING THE FOOT LONG HOLE IN THEM as he put them on. He briefly tried to blame me when he got home, but I pointed out that not noticing a hole THAT big in the pants you're stepping into was no one's fault but his own. He capitulated, without admitting defeat. I had a laugh at his expense.

Monday, November 2, 2009

How I Spent my Sunday

Did you know that cats can projectile vomit?

All over your hands and satin robe?

Thank you, Max. Love ya.