1. Calvin Klein's
About two years ago I was very interested in owning a pair of fringe cut-off jeans. I wanted them to be high waisted, very 90s, and sort of like the pair my roommate had. Well her's came from that God-awful store Urban Outfitters and there was just no way in Hades I was going to waste my barely-hard-earned cash there. So, I went to my local Good Will store and scored a pair of Calvin's for pennies. Or more like a couple hundred pennies. Whatever.
Well, I returned to dormitory (aka diseased, shit hole) and tried the pants on. My mom always freaks out that I try on 'dirty clothes' but that's because she's never worked in retail. If she had, she would know just how icky all clothes are. But I digress, so I fangled them on, and the fit was PERFECT. Seriously, it was love.
Then one day, I bent down and the knee ripped. Oh shit.
Then I started working-out and those loverboys slipped right back on like silk. It was hot. And it was less hot when my skivvy boss complimented on the improved fit. So ew.
Then about a month ago, I needed to get ready in hurry and I was, "Duh! Trusty CK Jeans." Well things got a little OH MY GOD IT'S THE ARMAGEDDON. My babies, my pride and joy, would not go over my mutton thighs. I think my look upon discovery could be described as HOLY CRAPOLA. WHY DID I HAVE TO EAT SO MANY DONUTS! nomnomnomnomnom. With enough shame to make a puritan question if I were (subjunctive??) okay, I wrestled my way out of the jeans, folded them delicately, and put them in the back, deserted corner of my closet.
In case you're wondering, my family was very callous and did not send their condolences or attend the burial at the lost of my cherished pants. Very rude people.
Moving on, as you can imagine, I was torn to shreds. Heartbroken. Left battered and alone...without pants. I fell into an incredible retarded downward spiral and took to eating more donuts and watching Netflix. Although I was content (or least not crying and asking hysterically WHY ME) to wallow in my excess, vacuous fat, I happened upon the Netflix suggestion Fat, Sick, and Nearly Dead.
I watched it. I was inspired. I started juicing. I started working-out. I stopped juicing (this tale will be told in the future and it will feature a lot of LOL). I continued to work-out.
Two days ago, or maybe one and a half,--I don't remember--I tried on my one true love...and MAGIC
I was able to somewhat, without applying deadly force, get the jeans up and over my thighs and I was one inch away from being able to button them. It was an emotional time in my life, and very special. Super special in fact.
SO HOLD ON BABIES!!! MOMMA'S COMING!!!!!
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