Break on Through

I hope everyone had a lovely Thanksgiving! I've thoroughly enjoyed sleeping in, not working, and staying as far away from the stores/malls as possible. I seriously cannot believe people died this weekend because of the disgusting cluster f@#$ that the "Black Friday" shopping craze has become. Is there really something so necessary and amazing at Wal-Mart that demands people stand outside all night long so they can trample and kill someone the next morning? I love the Nintendo Wii just like everyone else, and yes, I do realize that LCD flat screen TV's really make that football game pop, but I'm really not up for a little 5am manslaughter. It's just sick and wrong. I've committed myself to doing at least 95% of my xmas shopping online this year. Granted, I only have two people to buy for, but I refuse to set foot in a mall or supercenter of any kind from today until after January 1st. I say "from today" for a very specific reason. The point of this post isn't really to bitch and moan about the current state of commercial affairs, but to tell you a funny story.

Yesterday I was unwillingly thrown into an emergency situation. I had plans to venture downtown to the DIA to check out the "Monet to Dali" exhibit with my good friend Dave. I'm a very slow get readier, so as usual Dave was outside honking his horn before I even had my pants on. I grabbed my favorite and only pair of skinny jeans from the dryer, ignored their partial dampness, and tossed (okay pulled and tugged) them on. As you can probably gather, skinny jeans are by nature tight. They serve a fantastic purpose of fitting perfectly into your favorite pair of knee-high boots; no bunching, no baggy knees, just a perfect tight fit. I rushed over to my boots, bent at the waste while standing, and attempted to tug one on. I don't remember what I noticed first - the cool breeze or the shredding noise. They were equally unpleasant. I froze mid-bend and realized what had transpired. A four-inch tear had made it's way up from my nether regions. Shock, sadness, and a few panicked sounds followed. I had seriously split my jeans up the butt. I couldn't waste precious time mourning the loss of my one and only pair of skinny jeans (which weren't cheap btw), I had art to attend to. I switched my entire outfit around, tossed on some flats and ran out the door blushing a brilliant shade of embarrassed. Never in my life has my booty so rebelled. It's been smooshed into more pairs of tight pants than I can count, hundreds of pairs of tights, panty hose, and leggings, and even the secret and unmentionable Spanx undergarments. How dare it react so aggressively against my Guess Jeans! After calming down a bit, I came to an understanding. The day before I had eaten more Thanksgiving dinner than one pair of skinny pants can possibly handle. I don't know if it was the stuffing, or the green bean casserole, or probably the apple pie, but I had done this to myself. I pushed my bottom to the brink and asked it to be restrained for the last time. Fair enough.

So how does this all tie into my rant about the mall, you ask?? Well, I want to wear my boots tonight so an emergency mall trip was planned. Skinny jeans were located and purchased and they will be worn. Why do I keep subjecting my rump to these uncomfortable conditions? It's simple. My new boots look super cute with skinny jeans...no matter how hard my booty objects!