Tuesday, January 25, 2011

Can One Letter Really Make a Difference? Uh...yea.

It has been a while since I've posted so I figured now is as good a time as any, and what better topic than boobs!  That's right, boobs.  Even better, I am going to talk about my boobs!  Or rather, bitch about them.  Why you ask?  Simple.  Because they have made my life more difficult lately. 

See, I am a fairly well-endowed woman.  No, you don't get to see pictures.  For the last, oh, I dunno, decade I have been a DD cup.  Also known as Double-Dang boobs.  For a long time, I hated them.  With a passion.  They get in the way, they cause horrible back pain, shopping for shirts is a royal pain, and bathing suits?  Forget it.  People and objects run into them  and people stare at them.  I swore if I ever had the money, I would get a reduction.  Then somewhere in the last 3 or 4 years, my attitude shifted.

Now I love my boobs...usually...because there are so many women out there who wish they had boobs like mine.  I figured rather than hate them, I should be thankful for what I have.  Embrace them.  Nurture them.  And find clothes and bathing suits that  flatter them.  No easy task, mind you.  But I had adapted and grown to love them.  Yes, I now LOVE my boobs.  My big, beautiful boobs. 

But now, I am a little irritated with them again.  Why?  Because apparently they decided to grow again over the last several months.  That's right.  I am now a DDD.  Fan-freaking-tastic.  The thought really didn't bother me at first because I figured I dealt with them before, I can deal with them now.  Until I went bra shopping.

See, bra shopping was always an adventure because there is always a very limited selection of DD bras in my favorite stores.  I discovered when I went in search of DDD bras that none of my favorite stores carry any of that size in store.  N.O.N.E.  Queue long list of swear words.  Even Victoria's Secret failed me!!!  Just when I was about to blow a gasket, I called my mother who always has the answers.  She told me to check the higher end department stores like Macy's.  Ugh, I hate that place.  But guess what.  As usual, mom was right...again.

While their selection wasn't anything to throw a party over, I was able to find several bras that fit properly and didn't look like my grandmother should be wearing them.  So now my beautiful, big, fantastic boobs have limited me to one, single store for bra shopping...or online.  Bra shopping online just doesn't seem right.


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