Demin wars: Return of the Levi

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Amanda and I ventured to the Supermall in Auburn on Sunday with one mission in mind: Find jeans at Nordstrom Rack. After hearing your feedback and some soul-searching, we felt like the Rack would be the ideal spot for low prices and a range of high-caliber denim. Who doesn't love a nice Rack?

I tried on a few different brands, but Amanda and I mutually agreed that the Lucky's fit me best. Echoing my earlier statements, some jeans didn't get around my butt. Others tried suffocating my thighs. The Lucky's were baggy enough in the legs and fit my butt and waist in a comfortable way. I bought two pairs.

We thought we could head home, but something about shopping and being in a mall makes you desperately hungry. I know in Vegas they pump the air with oxygen so that you feel like you need less sleep. At the mall they must pump the air with some metabolism-boosting chemical that makes you want to chew off your own leg.

We were on our way to the food court when we saw the Levi outlet. Amanda suggested that we take a look. Couldn't hurt, right?

Oh the glorious options! I couldn't believe how many different styles, cuts and washes they had. Women don't really get this, but guys usually have very few options at clothing stores. Usually, that's OK. Think about it: Most stores are weighted approximately 2/3 toward women and 1/3 toward men in terms of inventory and selection. It makes sense. Women shop more frequently and usually wear more articles of clothing. Sometimes though, more options are good for guys, too. Especially in the jeans department.

I tried on probably eight or ten different Levi jeans in different cuts, washes and sizes. I've never done that before.

I hated it.

Seriously, getting jeans on and off and on and off just sucks. I ran a sweat through the labor and feeling that I was wasting my life in a plywood shower stall. This is where Brother Bear's "I shop for jeans at Costco" argument comes into play.

When all was said and done, I found a pear of jeans I really liked - the 559s (Relaxed Straight). They were $32 on sale. I returned one of the pair of Lucky jeans that was my least favorite and actually saved $15 by trading out for a pair of Levi's.

When we got home, Sergio repeated his recommendation that Levi 501s (Classic Fit) shrink-to-fit jeans are the way to go. He was serious about it, just as he was serious about shrinking his 501s when he first bought them. You'll learn more about that momentarily. After hearing Sergio out, I went to Fred Meyer (who buys jeans at Fred Meyer?) last night to buy the 501 shink-to-fit jeans.

Now I've got three new pairs of jeans and spent just over $100. I feel good about the selection and range and am most happy that I don't have to worry about buying jeans again for at least another year! Until then...

Here's more about Sergio's 501 shrink-to-fit recommendation:

I blame my accident on toast

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My mangled hands I look and feel like a 2-year-old today. My hands are bandaged up like a little guy learning how to walk.

I crashed and burned during an early morning jog. Now my hip is sore from absorbing the fall and my hands are burning from some combination of disinfectants and tweezing gravel out from under the skin. Is fitness worth such trials?

Amanda and I have renewed our commitment to daily exercise after a month-long lapse. We made the mistake of staying up too late last night watching Cold Case. It was tough getting up this morning, but I was INSISTENT that we go running.

We had a good pace the entire run and on the way back,  just a few blocks away from our house, my right toe caught the lip of an elevated piece of sidewalk. Don't most car accidents happen within a mile of your home? Must be the same for jogging.

I was slow getting up. Amanda and I tried to figure out what happened. Sure, some tree roots kicked up that part of the sidewalk, but what else is new? I've been told by everyone I know that I drag my feet. That must have had something to do with it.

We tried to remember what we were talking about before I bit asphalt.

Oh yeah.

Amanda told me it smelled like toast - fresh, hot bread - outside. I turned to her just then to agree, my mind focused on catching that wave of toast in the air. And that's when I fell.

I blame it all on the toast.

Halloween party at my house, be there

in

It's October 1. You know what that means: HALLOWEEN IS ALMOST HERE!

Nearly everything about Halloween is awesome - getting a costume, carving pumpkins, eating candy, scaring children - EXCEPT finding the right party to be at.

How many of us have had great costumes but no where to go before? You have nothing to be afraid of this year (pun intended).

We're having a party at the Spooky Oakes Tree (my house)! Come one, come all! (But let us know if you're coming so that we can staff snacks and games accordingly). We will likely spend part of the time at our house and part of the time on The Ave. in Tacoma to enjoy costume contests and beverages with the ghoulish public.

See the Evite for more details. Oh yes, it's an Evite, so it's official.

Get ready to party! It's the first of the month!

One day without a phone

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I accidentally left my iPhone at home yesterday. Here's what happened. 7:42 a.m. SHEER PANIC. While driving to the train station I realize that I've left the phone and don't have time to turn back to get it. I think about all of the morning meetings I might not be aware of. I try to think of how to let people know I don't have my phone. I can't tweet. I can't text. I can't call. I scramble while driving, uncovering every piece of paper and wrapper to make sure I didn't miss it. I'm not. I feel so cold and alone.

8:05 a.m. I'm on the train, so I have Internet connectivity with my laptop. I'm able to check and send mail. Still, I miss my music player and the connectivity isn't as fast as my phone. Grr.

8:55 a.m. I get off the train and reach for my earbuds. They're not there. How in God's name do I make the walk across the street to work with out my morning tunes?!

9:10 a.m. Still bummed I didn't have music for the morning block walk. Coffee isn't good today either. FML.

10:08 a.m. I freak out because I went downstairs to buy better tasting coffee but forgot to check if I had a 10 a.m. meeting. I have no phone to reference for my calendar. I run back upstairs to check Outlook. No meeting, thankfully, but lack of phone is making me paranoid.

10:31 a.m. I'm tweeting from my desktop PC. Lame.

10:36 a.m. A coworker comes over to tell me about cool new iPhone app. I can't download it. I give him the finger.

11:30 a.m. I remember that I brought some iTunes gift cards (Thanks, Amanda!) with me to work to download some new music onto my phone. I have the gift cards, Macbook Pro and connection cable all on hand. Missing: iPhone. Anger overwhelms me. I get that Jack-Nicholson-in-The-Shining look across my face. These cubicles will likely be my snowy maze around 4 p.m... "Here's Johnny!"

12:14 p.m. Lunchtime! I'll call Amanda and tell her - nevermind.

2:22 p.m. I actually forgot about my phone for awhile. Then I meet with my mobile team and I'm reminded. Before the meeting, everyone looks down at their phones to look busy. I look down at my empty hands. I turn my wrist to look at my watch, except I don't have a watch on. A coworker asks what I'm doing. "I don't know," I reply.

3:00 p.m. I'm getting emotional and the tears are coming. I have a strange, estrogen-driven urge to watch Beaches or Stepmom, probably because I haven't been able to check any scores on my ESPN app. I also realize that I'm thinking a lot about movies, probably because I want to escape this cruel, isolated existence.

3:19 p.m. I think about committing a crime because I know you get to make a call from jail. I have a meeting at 3:30 p.m. though, so not enough time to work with.

3:55 p.m. I'm starting to look for targets to hunt in my cubicle maze.

3:59 p.m. A coworker gives me some chocolate. I suddenly feel better.

4:12 p.m. I get ready to head back to the train station, closer to my personal communication nirvana. I have no way to tell Amanda when I'll be home, so I'll have to deal with that wrath later.

5:18 p.m. I'm off the train. I skip to my car. I feel like 9-year-old on Christmas Eve.

5:45 p.m. I run into my house and see my glistening iPhone on the table. I embrace it. All of the colors are so bright and beautiful! I'm feeling more like myself, connected. A bird flies into the house through an open window and sits on my shoulder. Fabrizio jumps up and licks the top of its head. I hear church bells in the distance. All is right again.