Sneaky Hate Spiral

A wonderful friend of mine linked one of my favorite blogs about the Sneaky Hate Spiral and that was sooooo my day yesterday.  And as I was telling her about what exactly happened, that got me to that OH. MY. GOD.  EVERYTHING MUST DIE!!!!  moment, it occurred to me -- this is exactly the kind of stuff people blog about!!!!  And by "people" I mean everyone but me because I am a horrible blogger and I never think I have anything interesting to write about.

So, first, go read about the Sneaky Hate Spiral and then read about my day!

Back?  Ok.

So that was totally me today! It all started with the cat playing with a toy - you know, the ones that have little bells in them to make them more fun for the cat and more annoying for the human?  Yea, that one.  No, I don't know why I bought it.  I just know I likely though "OH!  They will LUV playing with that!"  Of course, it never occured to me they would love to play with it at ungodly hours and wake me up an hour before my alarm.  

After I threw the toy across the room took the toy away hid the toy, then the neighbor was up and about upstairs and had unusually heavy feet today.  Since it was obvious I wasn't going to be able to get back to sleep, I proceeded to lay in bed and hope for sleep.  Yea.  Didn't happen.

Suddenly, I heard the garbage truck and thought "OH NO!  I forgot to take the cans out last night!"  So there I go, bounding out of the house with my hair all askew in my pajamas (which consist of very short, thin shorts and barely an excuse for a tank top) with my boobs flopping this way and that because I had no bra on, just to pull the cans to the curb before the garbage man drives away and I am stuck with stinky, full cans for the next week.  Yea, that had to have been a sight.  

Then, for the life of me, I could not find my damn keys in any less than 15 minutes.  When I finally got them and turned the car on, the the car radio was BLASTING only God knows what cause I hit that power button so fast I broke a nail which was quickly followed by a very unladylike word.  

At this point, I am already 10 minutes late leaving the house so naturally, I hit every, single red light between home and my destination, only to realize I had the wrong destination.  Yep. The stupid address in the stupid GPS was wrong.  Totally NOT my fault.  So I fix the GPS's screwup, cause again, not my fault, and I proceed to once again hit every,single red light between my false destination and my REAL destination. The traffic light gods hate me. 

I am now 20 minutes late for my appointment and I find every single parking spot on the street was taken except one.  Upon actually parking the car and exiting the vehicle, I find out that the stupid parking meter is broken. Grumbling, I move the car to another spot that happened to free itself of its previous vehicular occupant and this one had an electronic parking meter...across the street.  Naturally, this is a busy street and there were lots of cars so I had to wait for the walk signal at the light. We already know how traffic lights feel about me today.  

After sitting there for forever, I get across the stupid street to the meter and the thing didn't have the values of the buttons marked. Since I am already irritated and horribly late, I just push a bunch of them until it says I have paid the maximum amount, a mere 30 freaking minutes.  Then wait at the evil light again to go back to the car to put the validation on the dash. Upon placing my parking validation on the dash, locking and closing the door, and turning around to look at the light, I realized I would have to wait...again...to go back to the other side of the street where my actual destination was.  My head exploded inside.  

I unlocked my car, got inside, shut the door, and screamed bloody murder and beat on my steering wheel for about 2 minutes straight.  

Hate Spiral - 1.  Alicia - 0. 

.

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.


.

You Be the Judge

So this weekend we had a friend in town for 4 days.  We knew the weekend was destined for greatness right from the start.  How, you ask?  Well we received a sign from the gods of course...in the form of magical sushi boobies: 

Naturally, when coming upon this fabulous boobies of sushi, it made me think of my favorite blog ever, Jenny, The Bloggess.  If you are not familiar with her awesome scribing abilities, you may want to familiarize yourself with it, but in the interest of time, it is this post on mushroom boobs that my boobie sushi made me think of.  So, of course, I had to share my delight with the fabulous Bloggess.  The problem is that she didn't quite see things the same way I did.  You be the judge.

As of yet, I have not received a response.  Perhaps she is in awe of my shockingly awesome boobies too...and no, you don't get to see them.

.