Not to be trusted

Forget the Eye of Sauron, what should really strike fear into the heart of the stout and the brave is Target.

Oh don't give me that look. You know what I mean.

"I just need undershirts for the husband." she said.
"And shoes for the baby."
"And maybe some half-price leftover Halloween candy."
"And this would be a great nursing nightgown."
"Oh, might as well look for some Crappy Day Presents while I'm here."
"Hey, look, 70% off clearance rack!"
"What a beautiful crock pot..."

And before you know it, your cart is full, your bank account is empty and you have no where to put all the stinking adorable shoes you bought. ON CLEARANCE.

 But it's a good thing I bought shoes, because we sacrificed a shoe to the great beast with the red bullseye in order to escape without adding a new purse, a sweater dress, a hooded Batman onesie (with Bat-belt detail) (in adult size), and some striped union suit pajamas.

 But look at these RIDICULOUS shoes. High-top Converse!! Pink & purple with sparkly laces!! And they zip up the inside, because NO WAY am I strapping Eleanor into lace-up high tops on a daily basis. Zippers we can manage. Seriously, if they'd had these shoes in my size I'd be wearing them from now until they fell apart.

Rain & Showers

This week has seriously gotten away from me. I've been meaning to write this since Monday, but somehow it's Friday now. I'm not sure how that happened.

I really should clean my mirror, huh?

Anyway, first things first: 38 weeks and all is well! Still pregnant. Still happy & healthy. Got the green light to let Freckle come in her own sweet time, so long as she does it before April 10th. So, that's good news.

Other news in an out-of-chronological-order type way: KRho had her baby girl last night! Yay! 2 of the 3 Nebraska babies are here! Except... wait... that means I'm next. Oh my... (she, like MDM's baby girl came with a full head of dark hair and is beautiful. I have a feeling that I'll be having a bald-headed, old-man looking little girl just to keep things balanced)

So, this week.

Monday, everything everywhere was all "Severe Weather Alert!!" even though at my house, things were still blue skies and sunshine. Then I saw the saddest tweet. Miriel Margaret was stuck at DFW. One, being stuck at an airport is never fun. Two, being stuck at an airport because they canceled your connecting flight to a town less than 2 hours drive away is even worse. Three, they told her they couldn't get her on another flight for 27 HOURS. 27 hours?!?! No. Unacceptable. So after some texting, a shower, and frantically re-arranging all the crud in my car so I could (potentially) fit luggage and a human inside, I was off to the airport! Miriel acquired (sadly without suitcase) and we hit the road. And then the rain found us. It was... loud. But thankfully, Miriel is a calm companion and told me wonderful stories of DC which helped me stay relaxed enough to get through the rain without incident. Then there was Cracker Barrel, and you know what? I didn't have fried okra! Seriously, there is something wrong with me! I got sucked in by a picture of a pretty salad and a loaded baked potato that was delicious and just enough food, but... but... fried okra!! It's why I go to Cracker Barrel. I can't believe I forgot. *sigh* Anyway, I got Miriel to the tiniest airport ever. It's even smaller than the Lincoln, NE airport--which has 4 gates. Waco only has 2, which makes it even funnier that Miriel once got a "gate change notification" e-mail for a flight leaving from Waco. Really.

Tuesday I had my doctor's appointment, a fabulous manicure, and then went to a baby shower where I got to hold babies, rub bellies, and drink punch. Pretty much the best way to end that day.

Of course, I have been showered with gifts this week too. From the internet!  First, I got a package from Noemi with this adorable sleeper, and then... then I died, because of a tiny pair of jeggings. I mean, I squealed when I saw the sleeper. I couldn't help myself. Pink giraffe print with a giraffe on it?!? And then when I saw the leggings... with a dark-wash denim print... the squeal became a noise that only super-sonic cocker spaniels could hear. And that's before I even got to the adorable argyle baby legwarmers. Plus, it came with some tiny newborn diapers, which I will soon put into a diaper bag, along with all the other wonderful things you wonderful people suggested.

THEN I got a surprise package with NO NAME that had this dress inside. And there was more squealing over the tiny rosette details and the little ruffles on the pants. Turns out that PurpleLara sent it my way, but the company neglected to put her name anywhere on the order. Still... ultimate cuteness.

Also, both ladies were kind enough to send things in sizes for Freckle to grow into. We've got so much in the tiny clothes area, but now I don't have to worry about her reaching 12 lbs and suddenly having to be naked all the time. Hooray!

AND THEN the stuff from Target & Amazon started to roll in. My mom bought us a cradle bedding set. It's lavender gingham with a hippo on it and soon it will go into the cradle my dad is making for us! I ordered some decorations for the nursery--these wall decals and a nightlight/face place combo thingy. Now I just have to actually, you know, decorate the nursery.

AND AFTER THAT I got 2 boxes full of unspeakably adorable clothes from Happily Ever Me. I have determined, after careful examination of the contents of these boxes, that her little girl was quite possibly the best dressed baby in Northern California. Those clothes are being shared among the 3 Nebraska girl babies, so we will put all those cute outfits to good use!

Today I had a dentist appointment, went to visit a baby, made a Target run, and now I'm pooped. I'm going to take a nap!

Things I learned in Arizona

I'm still not over PJs @ TJ's. I keep reading all the awesome recaps and thinking "OH YEAH!" so here are some of those moments. Also, maybe the coolest thing (other than the floor bed) was that this event CREATED A BLOG! Yeah! Peer pressure!

1. Hotel bunnies aren't afraid of people with cameras.
2. Stephanie is an awesome roommate
3. Sometimes what you need is to just roll over & go back to sleep. And if you have an awesome roommate (which, see above, I did), she will too & it will be like magical sleepytime...magic.
4. Elise is the baby whisperer. Seriously. She rocked/bounced/soothed all the fussy babies to sleep. All of them! I spent a lot of time watching her to try to discern her secret ways as that might come in handy soon. Thankfully, my mom also seems to have this skill and she's a lot closer than the Far North.
5. If I'm going to get heartburn no matter what, I'll have an extra piece of pizza. And another soda. And a tiny ice cream sundae. And more awesome dip. Ok, so all the food really.
6. What I think is heartburn is very mild compared to what could be going on in there, so I'm very grateful.
7. I like braiding my hair. I kinda forgot that, and now I wish I did it more often.
8. I recognize Diane by her glasses. Also, she reminds me of my grandpa, which is actually a compliment, because she's the one you want to sit next to because she says funny stuff, but in that quiet, under-the-table way.
9. Noemi has amazing hair. For real. And I was a little starstruck honestly. Because I've been lurking on her blog for a long time. Lurking isn't my normal M.O. (I'm too obnoxiously loud for that!)
10. People in real life really do look just like they do on the internet. It's kinda bizzare.
11. Other not-shy people make me happy, and complimenting someone's freckles can turn into a conversation about boobs and genetics. Seriously.
12. Glitter-hippies are the best kind and talking about some of the crazy hippie stuff that I'm trying with people FROM THE INTERNET in real life is also pretty amazing.
13. When in doubt, just wave at strangers and hopefully they'll be the ones who were looking for you in random public locations. Worked for Kammah!
14. Canadians don't know how to work electronic card reader/signer thingies, but will not blink an eye at multiple u-turns and crossing 4 lanes of traffic to turn left on the wrong road. (I didn't know it was the wrong road at the time)
15. I didn't mean for this to be a big name-dropping thing as I really did enjoy everyone that I got to talk to, which I think was everyone.
16. I think my superpower is being able to get back to the places I've been to. I mean, in terms of navigating & giving directions. If I've been/driven there, I can probably get back there, but only by the route I got there in the first place. Alternate routes just confuse me.
17. I really loved the way that everyone cooperated to make stuff happen--like carpooling & making trips to pick people up and taking the Canadian to a Target, which apparently they don't have in BC.
18. The smallness of this event was really appealing to me. It was all my favorite parts of the Blathering--eating & talking to people in small groups--without any stress about what I "should" be doing (based on no one's pressure but mine, by the way. But I've been to Phoenix before, so I didn't feel like I had to "experience" the city to make the trip count. I could just sit and talk, even though I'd only met 3 of the people before).
19. I have to remember that people read my blog, so I don't have to repeat myself. I'm really bad at this. It's that weird line of not wanting to seem to self-absorbed that I assume everyone remembers every word I've ever typed and not being so self-deprecating that I assume no one reads so I can tell the same stories over & over again.
20. Babies do crazy things, and listening to moms tell stories (even stories about the awful parts--pinching, getting you sick, being demanding little tyrants) is pretty cool. I have NO IDEA what I'm getting myself into, despite the vast wealth of information I've accumulated. I know that I'm having a baby, but no idea what that really means. Thankfully I know that all these women will be there in a few months when I start asking more WTF questions.
21. The desert is dry. I know, that sounds like the stupidest thing ever, but I had to actually pay attention to how much water I drank, and I didn't really realize that the difference in humidity (or lack there of) would make my skin freak out. I don't know if it's because pregnancy hormones are making me more sensitive, or I'm just paying more attention to everything that happens with/to my body. Either way, the air was dry and I needed lotion.
22. Phoenix roads will randomly gain or lose a lane without warning. This can be very confusing in the dark.
23. There is a Carter's STORE! A physical building full of nothing but Carter's baby stuff... I didn't know they had such a thing! It was...well, I'm just glad there isn't one too close to me, because I would GO NUTS! Everything with a giraffe or hippo would be MINE... I mean, Freckle's...whatever.

Stuff I have vs. Stuff I need

So, I've been spending a lot of time with my stuff lately. I've been trying to determine what stuff I want to keep, and what's just sentimental clutter, or useless gadgetry that I'm never going to learn how to use.

This is mostly because I have a feeling that this baby is going to bring with it a whole boatload of stuff to let sentimentally clutter my closets, and gadgets I might never learn how to use. Out with the old, in with the new, right?

Well, we're super lucky that we have friends who have kids, and some of them have kids who have outgrown a lot of baby stuff, so we've been given a lot of stuff to get started. I mean, there's some new stuff that's already been gifted to us. I need to shop for the glider/rocker that my folks said they'd get me for my birthday that was over a month ago. We have a couple of onesies and a... chair-type saucer, rocker... thing... with danglies that vibrates & is supposed to be a place to put the kid when we don't want to hold it... I think. So, we don't need another of those.

My dad is also making a cradle. I can't even type that without getting all giddy with pride and joy and excitement. He's MAKING a CRADLE! Because he can. And he's awesome. He's also completely refinishing our dining room table, while my mom knits & quilts baby blankets for me and all my pregnant friends, and makes me maternity dresses and stuff. Yeah, see? I win at parents.

Basically, I need to make a list of all the stuff we have for this baby, and then cross-reference it against the ONE MILLION lists of things we (probably don't really) need, none of which agree about anything at all. I will be cruising the archives of every blog I've ever read of anyone who has ever had a child looking for the thing they said made everything easier. I have questionnaires for my friends with babies. I'm working on a spreadsheet to categorize all their answers.

I have sort of started regestries at the two stores that I can currently be bothered to register at, but I'm not telling anyone yet, because most of it is just... fluff. There isn't anything substantial or important on there yet. I have no idea what kind of stroller I want. Or what to do for a thermometer. Or baby nail clippers. What I do know is that everything with a giraffe or hippo on it is on those lists. Some of it will have to go if this turns out to be a boy baby, which, I have a sneaking suspicion it is, based on absolutely nothing other than... well, no, based on nothing. Though I keep dreaming that this baby is a girl, so... whatever, either way... giraffes for everybody! And Hippos!

Product Placement

Completely and totally unsolicited and un-paid-for reviews of some stuff I got recently! Yes, this is all I have to say today. I'm getting ready to have my niece spend the night with me and I need all my spare brain-cells to plan an evening of fun for an 8 yr old. She's requested chinese food. I think we're gonna be ok. Anyway, anyone who follows me on Twitter got to hear me whinge and moan last week about all the fun stuff I bought on the internet over the weekend taking SO LONG to get mailed to me (a week... a whole week!!). That shopping spree led to more shopping, and so I bore you with Tales of My Stuff!

First, the frivolous!

So, I don't paint my nails often. Not anymore. I used to, back in college. My toes and fingers were always painted some crazy color, and rarely did they match. Then I started working for a renaissance faire, and it turns out that not painting my nails for 4 months will take me from a "can't have naked fingernails!" girl to a "oh, I might throw a clear coat on" girl. So, now I only really paint my fingernails when I feel like it. On a recent trip to the drugstore, I saw a display for some of this new-fangled "crackle" nail polish. It looked interesting, but I don't often paint my nails, so I kept walking. Then, once I re-discovered the blog of the lady who was in that production of Hello Dolly, she had a post about the very same nail polish! So that was all in my brain--the un-mess-up-able qualities very much appealed to me. The cutting-edge-of-fashion appealed, but less so, because, honestly? I'm not cutting edge. I'm sharp-as-the-edge-of-town when it comes to fashion. But then... then I had a dinner date at a place near my office, but I got there WAY TOO EARLY, because sometimes my fear of being late and awkward leads me to be super early and equally awkward. However, this dinner date was in a shopping center with many places to distract me, like a Sally Beauty Supply, where I caved in and bought some of the silver glittery crackle stuff. So after dinner I came home and painted my nails "Pop the cork Purple" (a color my husband bought me on one of HIS trips to the drugstore, because he's totally awesome like that). Then I did some stuff while I waited for it to dry very well, as recommended by Sarah Lena.

I put the top coat on and, DUDE! You can watch it crackle in, like, seconds! I was totally impressed! I put a pretty thick coat on, and I don't know if I'll try to be a little less liberal next time, but so far, I like it! It feels pretty dang cool! Also, it's incredibly difficult to take a picture of my hand that I like... not cut out for modeling it seems. But, I have super-funky nails at the moment and I think it's nifty. I did have to put a topcoat on because the texture is a little weird for me.

Now for the not-so-frivolous-but-definitely-expensive category:

My Clarisonic Mia! I've been reading too much Temerity Jane, because I keep wanting to say "You guys!" but... well I don't actually say that much. Or do I? I can't remember anymore. Being a mimic is dumb sometimes. Anyway, my Clarisonic. I'd heard lots about them from, you know, everyone at every cosmetic store ever, and... well, I just wasn't interested in paying $200 for a gadget for my face. Then they came out with a little one, for only $150, and I still wasn't interested, and then 2 thing happened that tipped me over the edge and made me start saving my allowance pennies to get one. The first, and most obvious: I tried one. I got a facial at some make-up counter somewhere and I could actually feel the difference in my skin. It was really nice. Then, they showed me that I could get a purple one.

Ok, yeah, that was the clincher. I've been using it every day for a week now and I am just so happy. My skin hasn't been this clear in a year (stupid hormones) and it's nicer to touch and I don't use as much lotion because everything sees to go farther and last longer. The only thing I don't like is the smell of the cleanser that came with it, so I switched to my Devonshire liquid peppermint soap and DUDE! That's a refreshing wake-up. No coffee required! It will jump start your morning in a hurry. (Also, maybe I need to stop saying "dude" but it's that kind of day).

I also got an extra scrubber-head-thingy for the husband: deep pore cleaning. That way it's a "shared" thing, even if it is purple, and I should mention he asked me to get him one, so he wanted this too. And we both love it. Skin is clearer and softer and we are happier. Win!

So... this doo-dad was neither expensive nor frivolous. Jeremy got it on Woot.com one day, and it is the best pet-groomer thingy ever. I mean, we've never used a Furminator on our pets, but some friends have some for their beasties, but I love this because it has a little button at the bottom that pushes a... well, the bristles stick up out of this plate, and the button pushes the plate up and thus pushes all the hair that you brushed off the bristles, and that is just great. Super convenient and wonderful. 2 out of 3 cats love being brushed by it and the dog tolerates it the way he tolerates most things that aren't playing outside or belly rubs: with quiet dignity.

Wednesday already...

I warn you in advance the segues between thoughts in this post are fathomable to no one... not even me...

One of the things I love about my job is the flexibility. The other is the people, but the people don't really contribute to my lack of awareness of the days. Somehow, without a strict 8-5, Mon-Fri schedule, the days start to blur together. Add on top of that a holiday on Monday and my whole week is skewed. Yesterday, I couldn't figure out why my Monday comics hadn't updated even though on Monday I was very excited that they *had* updated, even though it was a holiday. It's a strange sort of sleep-amnesia where I forget everything after I wake up. Well, not everything. I still remember my name, who I am, who my friends & family are, that there are a bunch of bills to be paid and OH! I have lots of fun stuff on its way to me from the INTERNET! Like grey mary janes... I KNOW!

I love my dog. I do. He still drives me crazy when he chews my things... namely my shoes. The only pair of heels I own at the moment, and they were FABULOUS! Cute black leather mary jane type heels with great 2" heels that were somehow comfortable ALL DAY... he chewed the strap right off... So, out into the internet I went, off to shop for shoes. I was rather successful and bought 3 pairs, bringing the total number of shoes that I own up to 10. That seems reasonable. The only thing that's missing is a pair of brown flats, and I think I have a pair hiding under the bed somewhere... so, 11. 11 pairs of shoes is reasonable and suits all of my needs. On this day. That's more shoes than pants, which I think is an acceptable ratio.

"I love the fishes 'cause they're so delicious! Gone Goldfishin'!" This mid-post jingle brought to you by the Pretzel Goldfish I'm snacking on. You're welcome.

Last week, my prize from the internet was a new camera, since my old one died, and I have to say, although I haven't taken very many pictures with it yet, I'm super impressed with the shutter speed and its ability to get clear pictures from a moving vehicle. Don't worry, I wasn't driving at the time... In addition to its superb function, the camera itself is pink, so, you know... that makes me happy too. There was a brief time in college when I was more grrrl than girly, but that was a small blip in an otherwise uninterrupted sea of frills. Tough just isn't one of those things that I was cut out to be. I mean, when the time calls for it, I can get dirty and I break nails doing hard work (but I also break them doing minimal work, like unbuttoning my pants), but for the most part I do my work, then go get frilly. I don't wear makeup on a regular basis, but I love playing with it. I wear more pants than skirts, but I love the chance to wear heels and dresses. I don't know, I think my friend Andrew summed it up best when he said I was the most low-maintenance high-maintenance girl he knew... or maybe it was a high-maintenance low-maintenance girl... anyway, something like that. His explanation had something to do with drinking whiskey straight and sitting on concrete floors waiting for bands while coordinating my sneakers to my earrings... or something like that.

My husband and I suffer from Horizontal Surface disease. He suffers more from my condition than he realizes, but he's got a case of it too. Every horizontal surface in our house is at risk of becoming covered with clutter. It's not a particularly intentional thing, but stuff just seems to sort of end up there. I mean "stuff" in the most generic of terms because it's everything from mail to shoes to jewelry to USB drives to whatever happened to be in our hands at the moment when we decided that the nearest horizontal surface was the perfect place for whatever it was. This causes great consternation when I try to find things, because I know I've seen it about, but I can never quite remember which of the 14 possible locations it might be hiding in. Every few months or so I go on a rampage and clean off all those surfaces and I'm so pleasantly surprised at how wonderful my house looks when free of clutter. You'd think I'd keep it that way, but slowly the clutter creeps back in. It seems so innocuous at the time. "Oh I'll just set this here while I go get that other thing, then I'll put it away." Only, I never seem to get around to the putting away and nine times out of ten that other thing will wind up right next to it. It's an identifiable pattern and as yet I haven't found a way to break the cycle.

For now, I'll start my clearing off a 2" square of space next to my computer. That should be enough progress for one day!

Gondor may not need pants, but I do

Last week I had two pairs of black pants.  This week I have none. 

If this doesn't seem like a tragedy, please remember that finding pants that fit is nothing short of a miracle given my particular hip-to-waist ratio plus the fact that I have 6' of leg to cover.

Now, this story has it's roots all the way back in my days of working retail.  I don't know the average lifespan of a pair of pants in the normal woman's wardrobe, but my husband seems to go through pants with alarming speed.  Thankfully, he's a little easier to clothe than I am.  Most of the pants* that I currently own are older than my marriage.  Having only been married 4.5 years, that's not really that big a deal. 

Last week, I had 1 pair of pants at least 10 years old (black), three approximately 6 yr pants (2 the same brand & style, one black, one brown, and a charcoal pair from the same store), one 18 month old pair (tan), and one 6 mo old pair (grey).  That was plenty of pants for working.  I had more than 5 days worth of work-appropriate pants for the 4 days of the week that I needed such things.  All was well with the world.  Yes, some of my pants seemed aged, perhaps even approaching "venerable" as far as pants go, but I was content.  They all fit reasonably well.  Some were getting a little shorter than I like, but not embarrassingly short yet.  Some didn't quite fit in the waist or thighs, but it was all pretty good.  Decent.  Acceptable.  I was content in my pantedness.

A few weeks earlier though, it was a whole different story.  There was the Great Pantsless Scare of 2011.

Christmas cheer, holiday spirits, and all the fa la la

Years of working retail has left me with little appreciation for contemporary holiday music. Christmas carols and hymns traditionally sung in December still make me smile. I adore the Nutcracker, and the Peanuts song.

However, there are a slew of songs that the department stores where I worked ruined for me. See, the last place I worked had a loop 107 minutes long. On a nine or ten hour shift, that's a lot of the same songs over and over. In fact, we used to tell time by Feliz Navidad. It was roughly the half-way point. Though in a loop you should be able to start counting anywhere, there was a brief pause at the end (or beginning) of the loop. 30 beautiful seconds of quiet that meant we were 107 minutes closer to freedom. Then Wonderful Christmas Time would start up, and we'd trudge on with armfulls of discarded sweaters to start the countdown again.

Certain songs still make me cringe just upon hearing a few notes. Most notably, The Snow Song from White Christmas... oh, how I detest that song. The wailing, the repetition. Wash your hands and face in snow? Really? Have you ever had to shovel a driveway full of snow? Twice, because by the time you got to the end, the top was full again, and you had to start in the dark just to be done in time to get to work on time? What's romantic and lovely about that? Or the grey piles of dirty snow that sit on corners for months looking dingy and foul because it's too cold to melt them and too cold for fresh snow to fall. And I know that dear friends of mine adore the song, adore the movie, the memories it evokes, all that. For me, the memories it evokes are of endless hours of drudgery, in the cold, in the store, piles of snow to be shoveled, piles of clothing to be folded and hung, sore feet, cold hands, cranky workers and cranky shoppers and a cranky me.

Retail wasn't all bad--not that I ever want to go back. Still, there were a few moments each year of light and kindness in all the sale-frenzy from Black Friday to New Years Day. Once, I saw a mother show her daughter how to fold a shirt back up & put it back where she found it. I still had to refold it, because that mom didn't know our super-secret formula to perfectly fluffy display sweaters, but the thought alone warmed my heart.

And there were gems that kept me going in that 107 minutes of music. Christmas (Baby, Please Come Home) by U2 always made me smile because... well... it's my favorite band, being silly, singing Christmas songs. I never seem to get tired of Santa Baby. Even Feliz Navidad still makes me smile, perhaps because of it's prominent position as half-way marker. I would sing and sway along to What Are You Doing New Year's Eve. I actually adore that whole album... so I suppose I never really did get 100% Scrooged on Christmas music.

Now-a-days, I sing Christmas Carols in frilly Victorian clothing in the cold... for fun! I've learned a number of new carols that I'd never before heard, and get to sing old favorites, like the Ukranian Bell Carol, We Three Kings, and O Come Emmanuel.

So, I took some time to un-scroogify and find my joy in music by creating Our Pandora Christmas Station. It's mostly traditional, mostly religious, and so far, full of songs that don't make me shudder with horrible memories of retail years gone by. If you care to take a listen, you can join me in my Christmas spirit.

Perception vs. Reality

Perception is a mighty super-hero.  Perception wears a cape, has laser vision, super-strength, the ability to change shape and be invisible.  Perception can fly.  Perception wears spandex well and is charming enough to get away with being kinda jerky at times. Perception shakes babies and kisses hands and signs autographs for swooning, pimply faced fans of all ages.  Perception brings home the bacon, does her own taxes, sets tables like Martha Stewart, cooks like Alton Brown, cleans like a Merry Maid and does it all with Donna Reed style, by which I obviously mean in pearls, heels and perfectly straight stockings, probably with a frilly little apron she made herself.

Reality is a frumpy accountant.  In a suit.  With an attaché case and loafers.

As far as showdowns go, it's easy to see this one isn't really even a fair fight.  It's not an exciting duel between equals.  It's a merciless slaughter.  No epic battle to the death, just a swift death with no pomp or circumstance, no weeping maidens, no brave men enduring with stoic dignity.  No ticker tape parade for the victor.  Not even a congratulatory handshake from a grateful public official. 

See, it goes like this:

The Bean and the Quest for Pants

Most of the women I know understand the struggle to find pants that fit well.  Of all the many body shapes and sizes that we cover, not one of us can just go in, find our size & walk out confident that pants will fit.

First of all, there really isn't one "size" that we are.  Sizes are not consistent between brands, let alone the myriad permutations involved when you account for all the different cuts and styles offered.

Navigating the waters between straight cut, regular fit, relaxed fit, boot cut, flare, hip huggers, low rise, mid rise, natural rise... oh, it's a treacherous task.

Add on to that having legs longer than average, and it just makes shopping for pants a blood-pressure raising event.

It seems overly demanding to want pants that:
a) fit my waist
2) fit my thighs
D) touch my feet

Alright, so I have pants that do these things, the problem is that I don't have a single pair that does all these things at the same time.  Some pairs get closer than others, and those see the most wear.

How many of you have pants in your closet that you've worn once, maybe twice, maybe never?