Archive | March, 2013

My Boobs

22 Mar

When I was a teenager, I was so embarrassed by my large chest that my mom and I used to strap them into two very tight bras to hide their bounty. We were successful to a certain degree, but as an athletic girl playing lacrosse, soccer, basketball and field hockey, someone was bound to notice them bounding about and finally one day a bitchy girl on my lacrosse team called me “thunder tits.” At that time I was a 14-year-old girl with a DD cup.

When I was 23 years old, I was 5’3 and a FFF cup. That size is hard to imagine now that I am a large D cup, but I am telling you those things were so huge that I couldn’t see over them. They were so giant that I was able to use them as a pillow on airplanes or long car rides. Once, I found a pretzel lodged between them and I hadn’t eaten pretzels for over six hours.

And people, oh my god, don’t even get me started on boob sweat.

When my shoulders were noticeably suffering and sleeping became a chore, finally I decided to get a breast reduction. I was looking forward to the health benefits, sure, but I mostly wanted not to look like a porn star when I put on a dress or bathing suit.

The surgeon removed eleven pounds of boobage from my body. He said it was possible that I would never regain feeling in my breasts, but I didn’t care. Having surgery was one of the best decisions I’ve ever made, especially because I can fit into normal clothes and sometimes guys even talk to my face. It took a long time to get used to my body after the experience, but I am much more confident now than I ever was in the past.

I still couldn’t feel much and my nipples remained almost completely unresponsive until last week when there was a new development. My friend Kara noticed my nipples got hard almost immediately when I saw that my boyfriend had surprised me with flowers. Two days later, I ate some really good cheese and they got hard again (I guess I really love flowers and cheese).

Tonight, if you go out, I’d like for you to have a drink or quiet thought in honor of boobs. If you’re up for it, why not stare at some boobs and make a stranger, your friend, wife, girlfriend or mom really uncomfortable? If you have permission, I think you should probably touch some boobs, too. It will be fun!

Boobs are a sexy, important part of life and for me they were a total pain in the ass, but I’m excited they are finally getting back into the groove of things.

Yay boobs!

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Sunday Night Sublimity

18 Mar

I love when life provides a beautiful “moment” when everything blends perfectly and I am keenly aware that my soul, heart and brain are exactly where we all need to be. Do you know what I mean?

For me, this usually happens when I see something inspiring or have a life changing experience. For example, one time I was standing on the Cliffs of Moher in Ireland, taking in the beauty of the sea and rolling hills and it was overwhelmingly wonderful.

It happened last night, but in a different sense. My boyfriend and I were sitting in my car, seat warmers getting our buns nice and toasty, and he was telling me an awkward boner story. We were both draped in St. Patrick’s Day lighted necklaces…

 

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…and for some reason Michael Bolton was playing…

 

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“Here I am,” I thought to myself, “having a tingly ‘moment’ while listening to this story about an awkward boner experience and we have on these lighted necklaces and for some reason Michael Bolton is singing ‘(Sittin’ On) The Dock of the Bay’ and he sounds kind of angry about it and when Sean and I get inside we are going to eat the f-bomb out of some delicious cupcakes and I wonder if he would still kiss me if I was wearing my stick-on orange mustache that my boss bought me for St. Patrick’s Day and hey, you know what? I’m happy.”

And then we went inside and ate those cupcakes and he said he would kiss me if I was wearing that orange mustache, but I didn’t make him. Not yet, at least. I’m gonna whip that thing out one day in like the middle of summer so I get mustache sweat or something and then he’ll have to kiss me because he said he would.

When’s the last time you had a “moment?”

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Helen, A Prostitute

8 Mar

Of all the corners in Baltimore City, Helen chose my Hampden corner for turning tricks. She was tall, wore a sports bra and rocked a fancy, champagne blonde 80’s-esque hairstyle.

She yelled at inanimate objects and one time was behind me in line at Rite Aid when I dropped my wallet. She picked it up for me, introduced herself and said she had my back.

Thanks, girl.

Once, I saw her checking car doors while singing “Rush, Rush” by Paula Abdul. Two days later, I forgot to lock my car and the next morning I was greeted by a douche in my cup holder and cigarette ashes all over my front seat (which, by the way, was set down and back and likely used for sexual activity. My car was cleaned vigorously for a couple of weeks after that).

When I saw the douche, I had a flashback to the early 90s and for at least one solid minute, thought it was a Berry B. Wild SqueezIt.

 

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I hadn’t seen Helen for long time and thought maybe she finally got help and gave up drugs and prostitution, but I went out with a guy the other night who told me that she died. He also said there’s a new prostitute. He described her as “in her 50’s and a bit momish.” Mom-prostitute stands on his corner just a few blocks away, so my corner finally gets a break.

This may sound weird, but I am going to miss Helen. I mean, I didn’t know her, but she was quite a character. She was a part of life, you know? And now she’s not. I’ll never find out what her favorite color was, if she was happy at some point, or if she was ever in love.

Rest in peace, Helen. I forgive you for leaving your douche in my cup holder and probably having sex in my car.

I pray you are in a better place now, on that great corner in the sky.
 

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How To Buy A Wolf Shirt

4 Mar

Important wolf shirt buying advice from a guy who lives across the country and once stayed in the same exact building I did on the exact same trip I went on just a few months before I did. Enjoy.