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( Sad, Ranting Personal Hooey )
I originally almost titled this "Boobs" because while thinking back on the times we had hung out, I was remembering one time, at the end of my senior year, when a bunch of us piled into a few cars and went down to Nantasket Beach. No one was expecting the water to be as warm as it was and as a result, none of us wore bathing suits. I remember a few of us stripping down to our undergarments to go swimming. I was wearing a bra I had just bought from Victoria's Secret. It was a gorgeous teal colour, lacy, and compared to what I wear now, tiny. It was a 34C. My mom wears it now. I remember laughing because I had matching knickers for it, satin ones, and it looked like I had a bathing suit on, except when you got really close, you could see through the bra. I loved that bra.
I've been thinking about my boobs a lot recently, probably because I've been seriously looking into the laser bra reduction. There's a guy in Brookline who practises that method. I've also been lurking on the boards at Breast Health Online. I like my boobs, to a point, but they are hard to fit, they're starting to hurt now and then, I have grooves and back pain. I'm terrified of scarring and loss of sensation, though. I want to be a D cup, no smaller, and I'm afraid of them being boxy and fake looking. I keep wavering between how much the piss me off (like now, when they're making my shoulders hurt because I'm not wearing a bra or the fact that Steven regularly rolls over on them in his sleep or when none of my effing bras fit) to wondering if I'm not making a mountain out of a molehill. I still want to lose about 30lbs before I do anything seriously, too.
Sigh. I want nothing more than to go curl up with Steven and get some blissful, dreamless sleep. I think the oxycodone is fucking up my dreams. They're all dark and twisted. Then again, if I don't take them, I'm up all night with nasty twinges, stabbing pains, throbbing, and that nice skewer-through-the-knee feeling. Oh well, I start PT next Tuesday and we're going to check out the (new!) pool at the gym tomorrow.
Thank god, the painkiller kicked in. Off to bed I go.
I originally almost titled this "Boobs" because while thinking back on the times we had hung out, I was remembering one time, at the end of my senior year, when a bunch of us piled into a few cars and went down to Nantasket Beach. No one was expecting the water to be as warm as it was and as a result, none of us wore bathing suits. I remember a few of us stripping down to our undergarments to go swimming. I was wearing a bra I had just bought from Victoria's Secret. It was a gorgeous teal colour, lacy, and compared to what I wear now, tiny. It was a 34C. My mom wears it now. I remember laughing because I had matching knickers for it, satin ones, and it looked like I had a bathing suit on, except when you got really close, you could see through the bra. I loved that bra.
I've been thinking about my boobs a lot recently, probably because I've been seriously looking into the laser bra reduction. There's a guy in Brookline who practises that method. I've also been lurking on the boards at Breast Health Online. I like my boobs, to a point, but they are hard to fit, they're starting to hurt now and then, I have grooves and back pain. I'm terrified of scarring and loss of sensation, though. I want to be a D cup, no smaller, and I'm afraid of them being boxy and fake looking. I keep wavering between how much the piss me off (like now, when they're making my shoulders hurt because I'm not wearing a bra or the fact that Steven regularly rolls over on them in his sleep or when none of my effing bras fit) to wondering if I'm not making a mountain out of a molehill. I still want to lose about 30lbs before I do anything seriously, too.
Sigh. I want nothing more than to go curl up with Steven and get some blissful, dreamless sleep. I think the oxycodone is fucking up my dreams. They're all dark and twisted. Then again, if I don't take them, I'm up all night with nasty twinges, stabbing pains, throbbing, and that nice skewer-through-the-knee feeling. Oh well, I start PT next Tuesday and we're going to check out the (new!) pool at the gym tomorrow.
Thank god, the painkiller kicked in. Off to bed I go.