Wednesday, December 31, 2014

It's all about boobs today.

I'm doing a wee bit of catch up work my dear friends and blog readers!  As you peruse this post you may note comments about Halloween.  Yes, it's true. This wild boobie blog was written months ago on my phone while I was impatiently waiting in a doctor's office.  As with most things in my life, it was misplaced in my organized chaos of lists upon lists upon lists.  Finally, something to cross off! Enjoy (or cringe depending on who you are).  Oh, and by the way, Happy New Year! 


It's All About Boobs Today

Last night I went lingerie shopping.  For those of you who personally know me or have been reading my blogs for some time, you may recall that I abhor clothes shopping EXCEPT when it comes to lingerie.  Do I wear what I buy? Hardly.  It just makes me feel sexy shopping for it.  Don't try to understand me because your brain will explode.

Yesterday, I needed, no - wanted is more the word - a bra.  Not just any bra; a bra which would push my middle aged 40DDs up with more confidence than they've dared venture for years.  They indeed found an amazing new altitude. It was invigorating.  The skin beneath my breasts were, for the first time since puberty, sweat free.  Hallelujah!  

Why was I searching for this garment?  For the very word I used in the previous paragraph; I wanted my girls to exude "confidence" in the Halloween costume I'd be wearing the following weekend.  I did not want them to look like a pair of lifeless, deflated balloons beneath the pretty outfit I'm renting.  Yes, my dear friends and blog readers, it all boils down to VANITY.

I've had these two mammary glands attached now since the sensitive age of ten.  I went from being a flat chested little girl to having my breasts measured and special bras made.  I skipped the entire "training bra" experience.  I was a tomboy who thrived on catching frogs and climbing trees, who woke up horrified on Tuesday, April 12, 1977 and much to my chagrin there they were...BOOBS; HUGE BOOBS.  Someone had played a cruel trick on me during the night, wound my arm like my "Growing Up Skipper" Barbie and said, "Here you go honey, now deal with them!" Dammit! What a cruel, cruel thing to do to a kiddo like me. There were no such things as "sports bras" in my youth.  The ones purchased for me snapped under the weight of my behemoths every time I ran drill lines for basketball or on the first drop of Disneyland's Thunder Mountain Roller Coaster ride

There was also a sharp dividing line between myself and the girls who were interested in obtaining boyfriends in my little Catholic school.  I disdained those silly classmates.  I felt they were ridiculous for shoving what little chest bumps they had into tight uniform blouses and into the faces of pre-pubescent boys who were completely oblivious and still watching cartoons instead of what these giggling goofballs had to offer.  Were they crazy?  And then it happened. My realization that the packed gymnasium of screaming young boys watching our girls basketball game had nothing to do with our game but everything to do with the size and enormity of my breasts - not the ball - bouncing down the court. I'm still surprised that the Nuns did not shut us down for the corruption of young minds that I was responsible for.  Come to think of it, there were a lot of Nuns at every game trying to keep the boys in check and we did go to Confession every Friday if that didn't do the trick.

Last year's Halloween Costume was an effort in futility as far as my "girls" were concerned.  Let me explain.  

Young, large breasted ladies listen carefully.  This may be disturbing but you must learn it from someone WHO KNOWS first hand as I've painfully experienced it the hard way.  Our big boobs will, how do I put put this gently..? SAG!  Ugh!  For all intent and purposes they do NOT remain buoyant as some sad daydreamers hope. This is a myth of overwhelming proportions. I have a very dear friend (whose name shall remain well, for the time being anyway, private) and her big boobies are, in my personal opinion, unnaturally high for a woman our age. My love for her is strong - so strong that I have called her a liar and a boobie blasphemer and have gone so far as to accuse her as to having her girls surgically "inflated" if you catch my drift (pardon the pun).  We are like sisters.  She "poo-poo's" me and denies the accusation vehemently but women can smell surgical procedures on each other. We're like cats.  There's no hiding what is...right my sistah?  (I'm grinning from ear to ear as I type this)

Anyway, I digress from my Halloween horror story from last year. I assumed that my barmaid costume would hoist my breasts in tightly without the need of a bra. The outer corset was strapped up so tight my "boom booms" were not going anywhere.  Well, I assumed wrong.  The moment I bent over in front of my first guest (which just so happened to be one of my husband's co-workers), a boom boom went bye-bye. Yes, that's right. I bent down and one slithered out of my top!!  Not even sexily "popped" out but I use the word, "slither" like a wet, full bag of beans..oh my God the memory! Well, I didn't hear a gasp from anyone and as I know the feeling of my girlies and what they're up to, or in this case, down to at any particular moment, I was quick at the drop.  I caught the mishap before anyone else did, went immediately through the back door, up the stairs and slapped those naughty bitches into their five-hooked bra where they belonged. Geesh! NEVER AGAIN!

With this story told, my vanity or pride..yes, Sisters of Notre Dame I do recall it IS one of the Seven Deadly Sins...I will NOT abide unconfident 40DDs in public ever again. If I've lived with them this long, they might as well be comfortable, admired and CONFIDENT!  Father forgive me for I have sinned...

Oh, and by the way, I ALWAYS carry a safety pin now in the event I should just happen across an amusement park with a roller coaster.  With age comes beauty, "confidence" AND wisdom.   Just sayin'...