Hypothetically Speaking . . .

. . . . . . . . Because Humor Matters

Only In My Skinny Jean Dreams

Written By: Humor Mike - May• 16•11

I think I need a paramedic!!!

Recently I’ve learned that there are certain games that you just shouldn’t ask people to play. One of those games is the guessing game. Guess my age. Guess my weight. Guess my credit score. Basically, you shouldn’t ask anyone to guess anything of a personal nature that may not work in your favor if the guess is way off. One wrong answer and things can turn ugly rather quickly. Because I hadn’t yet learned that lesson, when a co-worker at my new job asked how old I was, I asked her to guess. Usually this works in my favor, and I had just been carded the evening before while getting drinks—and by drinks I mean milk—with friends. My coworker looked me over. Her lips parted. “Thirty-five,” she said. But it wasn’t the guess that bothered me most, it was the words that followed: at least. Thirty-five. At least.

Mind you, I don’t have a problem with thirty-five year olds. Hell, my grandmother is thirty-five. I’m quite sure it’s a lovely age and I hope to one day reach thirty-five in about forty years or so. However, up until that day, no one had ever guessed more than twenty-six, and they only guessed that because I had used statements like “back in the day,” or “back when I was young,” or “My arthritis is flaring up.” I never would have guessed that I’d be twenty-six one day and thirty-five the next. I made a mad dash for the restroom and noticed that my cheeks—the ones on my face—were slightly lower than they had been the day before. Panicked, I immediately called my plastic surgeon and scheduled a consultation because there is only one thing in my life that I absolutely refuse to do and that is to be thirty-five while I’m only thirty-one. Besides that, everything else is perfectly acceptable.

While we’re on that subject, since I now look middle aged, I’ve decided that it is time to wear clothing more appropriate for someone that advanced in years. Up until now, I’ve gone with the baggy look, but now I’d like to wear clothing that are a little more fitted. Of course, that means I’ll no longer have room to smuggle my microwave and a rotisserie chicken into movie theaters, but at least I’d look more polished. More adult-like. More like a person with a successful blog and a novel in the works. However, let me point out that it is not my goal to go so far as to wear skinny jeans because there is only one thing in my life that I absolutely refuse to do and that is wear skinny jeans. Besides that, everything else is perfectly acceptable.

Because wearing fitted clothing is totally new to me, I enlisted the help of one of my friends for support. The first sign that things weren’t going to turn out well was when my buddy warned me not to look at the price tag. Of course, this made me look: $89!!! Do you know how many car payments I can make with $89? Absolutely none. But my point is, $89 is a lot of money for a pair of jeans that won’t tuck me in at night and make me scrambled eggs in the morning. With the price tag still in hand, I fainted from shock. Fortunately, my friend is a doctor and he was able to revive me before I’d lost the last of my few remaining brain cells. Honestly, it’s probably my fault for going shopping with someone who’s a doctor instead of going with someone who’s more on a dollar-menu budget like myself. I’ll certainly know better next time.

Despite the price, I ended up trying on the jeans anyway. In reality, there is nothing wrong with playing dress up every now and then. And if I start saving now, maybe I’ll be able to actually afford the jeans when I turn thirty-five. Anyway, the first pair were a size 34/32 with a slim fit. After putting one leg in, I knew that there was no way anymore of me was ever getting into those jeans. I was then given the same size in the classic and relaxed fits, but both were so tight that you could actually monitor my blood flow through them. Because of this, my doctor-friend warned me to lower my salt intake and wrote me a prescription right then and there. At that moment, I was more concerned about my breath intake because of the very realistic fear that I’d have an Incredible Hulk moment and burst right out of those jeans, sending buttons ricocheting all across the store and hitting innocent women and children.

I then tried a 36/32, which killed me because I had worn a pair of 34/32 jeans into the store and the goal was to go smaller, not larger. To add insult to injury, though my buddy thought the jeans were a good fit and gave me the thumbs up, the saleslady looked me over and screamed, “Oh God,” and covered her eyes before demanding that I go up another size and try a 38/32. “The jeans are European cut,” she explained. I told her that I didn’t care if the jeans were Anglo Saxon diced. Trust me. There is only one thing in my life that I absolutely refuse to do and that’s go into a store wearing a pair of 34/32 jeans with the intent to go smaller and somehow leave with a pair of jeans that are four sizes bigger. Besides that, everything else is perfectly acceptable.

Moving right along, people have been asking how the new job is going, and I can honestly say that things are going pretty well. It is awesome to leave the house at 8:22 AM, drive to work, park the car, walk to the building, hop on the elevator, and still make it to my desk by 8:30. Because of the short commute, I’ve only been to a gas station once during the month of May and even then it was only to buy milk. So far, this month I’ve only used a quarter tank of gas. How amazing is that? Another good thing about the short commute is that I’m able to go home for lunch every day. On the downside, I often wonder about the repercussions of calling out sick while on my lunch break. I mean, if I didn’t make it back to work after lunch, at least I’d worked half the day and that should count for something. Hmmm.

Before I forget, you all are going to be so proud of me. I’ve been exercising lately. I’ll give you a moment to stop laughing and compose yourself. Are you done? Good. I’ll have you know that just last weekend I hiked 3.7 miles around a lake. Ok, maybe I’m exaggerating just a little bit. I actually walked briskly around the lake. Part of the reason that I was walking so briskly was because I’d neglected to use insect repellant and had somehow become a human buffet for all insects with teeth within a 50-mile radius. Regardless, the point is, I did it. Furthermore, I’ll have you know that I’ve also used my Wii Fit, did some Zumba exercise, and played Championship Boxing on my Wii in the past week. Unfortunately, I haven’t exactly learned the art of throwing a punch so I accidentally knocked my flat-screen TV out a few times. It wasn’t pretty. Despite that, I can honestly say that the TV didn’t get in a single punch on me. Thus, I’ve declared myself the undefeated champion until further notice. Yup.

Lastly, I have to acknowledge that today is the two-year anniversary of this blog. Honestly, I can’t believe how quickly the time has passed. I’ve hit many milestones between then and now. I graduated college. I relocated from Baltimore to the DC area. I’ve changed jobs—twice. I started on a master’s degree. Oh, and I fought a praying mantis and a grasshopper along the way. From the beginning until now, I can’t tell you how much the feedback means to me, and I can’t believe that there are people out there who have actually read every single post I’ve done. Would you believe I have readers in the Ukraine? It’s really mindboggling. I’d like to take this moment to thank each and every one of you for taking time out of your busy day to read The Little Blog That Could. Although I allegedly have a degree in English, I can’t find adequate words to express my gratitude. That said, happy anniversary to the blog and stay tuned!!!

Yours humbly,

Michael Rochelle
Access my full blog: http://www.justmichael.net/blog
Access my website: http://www.mikeyllo.com
Add me on Facebook: http://www.facebook.com/michael.rochelle1

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One Comment

  1. Tersh (Adonis) says:

    Hey, happy second anniversary on your blog. It doesn’t feel quite that long. And on another note, what ever happened with your success in finding the right kind of pants? Any luck with that? I wish I was there…I have a really good eye for helping people pick clothes for themselves-no matter what size they are…Hope to hear from u soon boi…ttyl

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