In the ongoing Megan Has Issues With Her Pants--and not in a good way---saga of 2005, I have another incident to report. In case you aren't aware of my problem, let me summarize:

1. This winter, I wore my very cool green birthday pants to work. Somehow got bleach or other color-removing substance on them in the course of my day and had to walk around with big white splotches on the back of my legs.

2. Getting in to friend's car (again at work) to go to lunch, button on back pocket of another pair got caught on seat and broke off. I decided I can still wear those sans decorative button, though.

3. Summer capri pant tear along my butt cheek. Those, unfortunately, could not be saved.

And now....

4. The great tear across the thigh.

When I returned to work last Tuesday after being sick, I wore a pair of jeans I bought in Minneapolis this summer. I was drawn to them in the store because of the interesting design at the bottom and fun little accordion folds in front at the top of the legs. They quickly became favorites for comfort and how they went with most shirts.

Well, apparently those folds were not made for my active self. As I was clicking away on my keyboard Tuesday afternoon, I noticed a long rip had developed along one of the ridges across my upper thigh. Normally, this wouldn't be a huge deal, but I was in charge of facilitating a panel that evening, and I wasn't prepared to display a pale stretch of thigh skin to a large group of students while standing there speaking. Visions of judging eyes gaping at my tattered clothes put me in a self conscious panic.

What to do? With no sewing kit in sight, no chance to run home, and no extra pants hiding in the filing cabinet, I locked myself in the staff bathroom with an assortment of office tape to try to hold things together. And, when my first taping job fell apart after about 20 minutes, I marched determinedly to the bathroom with more rolls tucked up my sweater sleeves. Repeat. Repeat. By the time the panel started, the layers of tape underneath my jeans were thicker than the material itself.

Luckily, when I got to the room and saw the set-up, I figured out a way to facilitate while sitting at the front of the room. No need to worry about the adhesive not holding up mid-presentation. The bad news: as the students were filing in and grabbing seats, I mentioned to a friend why I needed to sit, and she responded that she didn't think showing some leg would be a big deal. When I countered that flashing my thigh skin to our college kids at a school event would be inappropriate and at least a little bit uncomfortable for all, some of them overheard and laughed. Embarrassing, but at least I entertain.