I’m baaaccckkkk….
on line, and typing with all ten digits. I think I did a pretty good job of keeping up using the Blackberry, but I didn’t feel the same freedom to just swing into a major, full-blooded rant or write.
I have now spent two plus weeks in shorts–far longer than a woman of my age outta. How is it that when I look at my body (5’7″ according to my license), I see my mother’s (5′ even)? When did that happen? I know I’ve raised this before, but it really is astonishing to me. I was always the tall, thin one in the family. When I was in high school, the boys teased me that I was a perfect 36″, 12″ 12″ 12″. When I was in college, my mother refused to buy me a certain party dress unless I got the padded bra that made the dress fit. This thing of being flatchested was a major issue with me. I remember crying about it to my mother who reassurred me (!) that all was natural and I just took after my father in the breast dept. She, on the other hand, was known for her bosoms, and my sister took after her. So where the hell did these knockers on me come from???? I don’t want them NOW. They’re no good to me NOW. They get in the way and ruin the line of clothes and make me look–like a vaguely stretched out version of my mother.

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Re: plastic surgery
Ye gods, yes. Sign me up.
plastic surgery
tits are at the bottom of my list for that. first i’d do the face, the chin, the eyes, the neck, the BELLY…oh definitely the belly…
What she said. After the Sprog shows up? I’m going down to a big C or a small D. God/ess willing, a big C.
You can have them made smaller surgically if you really don’t like ‘em.
Sigh. I had the opposite problem. And it only got worse. BEFORE pregnancy, I was a 36G. Or double-E. Something like that.
(
The angst was similar in tone if different in content.