Showing posts with label if being old means I don't have to apologize for wearing stretchy pants count me in. Show all posts
Showing posts with label if being old means I don't have to apologize for wearing stretchy pants count me in. Show all posts

Friday, January 6, 2012

I Meant to Set a Few More Goals

. . . but instead I spent the day running interference for a son passing a kidney stone. He's doing fine tonight, although I have doubts about myself. I knew I was losing it when I wondered aloud where kidney stones originate. (HINT: not the lungs.)

I am looking forward to sitting on my bed in old lady stretchy pants where I can knit and watch TV in comfort. Yay, comfort!

Saturday, August 14, 2010

Could this be dementia?

First, a word to my son. I'm sorry you were traumatized by the thought of me cooing sweet nothings to your dad while also being a mummy in the bathtub. I'll send you therapy money along with that USU alumni magazine that's sitting on the table in the hallway.

And now a word about the state of my brain. We came up here to Deer Valley for the retreat on Thursday night. Naturally we brought suitcases. Heavy ones. But do you know that somehow I only managed to pack basically ONE OUTFIT? So I am dashing around day after day in the same black Nike dri-fit pants.

On the other hand, I did manage to pack five pairs of shoes, because you know how it is. Maybe you'll want to wear running shoes with those Nike pants. Or flip-flops. Or possibly that pair of Keenes you wore all over France last summer (your dad has the exact same pair). Or maybe you'll want to wear elegant little black flats you bought at Tar-jay one day whilst you were feeling fancy. OR MAYBE YOU'LL EVEN WANT TO WEAR BROWN CLOGS WITH THOSE BLACK NIKE DRI-FIT PANTS because nothing says, "Dude I am a freaking rock star" like a pair of brown clogs.

Worn, of course, with Nike dri-fit.

Friday, February 6, 2009

What not to Wear

Okay, so I meant to do a little work on my novel. But instead I somehow got focused on how comfortable my stretchy pants are. And THEN I got caught up in one of my favorite paranoid fantasies, i.e. that Stacy and Clinton from WHAT NOT TO WEAR show up with friends and family to do an intervention with me.

FRIENDS: Look at her just sitting there on her bed wearing those stretchy pants, waiting for ON THE RECORD WITH GRETA VAN SUSTEREN to start. Which she likes. Even though Greta has a big old girl crush on Sarah Palin.

FAMILY: She wears those stretchy pants everywhere. She'd wear them to church if she thought she could get away with it. She'd also take her knitting to church if she thought she could get away with that, too.

ME: Dude. Stretchy pants are comfortable. What's wrong with being comfortable? When you're my age, you should feel free to wear stuff that feels comfortable. LIKE STRETCHY PANTS. Or stuff from Chico's.

STACY: Chico's?

CLINTON: Things are worse than we thought.

Ah . . .

You know what the best feeling in the world is? Taking off your jeans and putting on your stretchy pants. Dude! Heaven!

Why do I bring this up? Because (even though it's really late in the day) I am going to work on my novel for a bit, and it's important to be as comfortable (i.e. jean-less) as possible when you commence such a taxing undertaking.