Has anyone seen..

my breasts? I know I had them here somewhere but now it seems they’ve disappeared. Why is it that when you lose weight, it’s not in the right places? I still have fat fingers, big thighs and a double chin but where oh where have my big, old boobs gone, or where or where can they be? It’s just not fair. My boobs were big and round and I loved them. They weren’t the perkiest ones around but they were nice and full. Now they look like someone let the air out of them, it’s just not fair.

I’m not even entertaining the thought of plastic surgery. I don’t like hospitals and surgery scares me. With my luck, I’d get a doctor who decided to drink a bottle of Jagermeister before the surgery, cut off my boob and attach it to my forehead leaving me looking like a Picasso painting. Nope, I won’t do it.

There should be something that I can wear that will take everything and put it back where it should be. Some kind of harness that gradually squeezes them into submission. If it doesn’t exist then I’m going to have to invent it because this is pitiful or should I say titiful.

Brimples

Well today I decided to dress up a little. Now my idea of dress up and most other people’s idea of dress up are two different things. My dressing up involved my “nice” jeans that actually fit now that I’ve lost weight and my favorite black blouse. The blouse is the kind that has designated areas for your boobs to go. It’s also a little low cut to show off my ample, although not as ample as it once was since I’ve lost weight, cleavage. It was a good looking outfit, if I do say so myself. To finish up my ensemble, I decided to break out my fake diamond earrings.

I went to the bathroom to see how well I cleaned up and I was appalled by what I saw. There was not 1 but 2 big ass pimples occupying space on my body where they were not welcome. You know, once you hit your mid 30’s, pimples shouldn’t even be allowed to form but there they were smiling back at me. I know that 2 pimples aren’t that big of a deal but these pimples pissed me off because they were prominently displayed on my deflated perky cleavage. That’s right, I have breast pimples or brimples as I call them.

My breasts are huge and these pimples could have had probably a good 100 square ft of space to play with if they just had to park on my chest. So why would they pick the area that is visible to the rest of the world? Why didn’t they go underneath where no would see them? Hell, I have moles under there so they could have had company. But no, they decided that if I was going to go out and see the world, they wanted to see, too. Damn brimples.

Well, I showed them. I changed into a turtle neck shirt even though it’s 85 degrees out. I hope those little bastards sweat to death in there.

I hate brimples.

Stuff White People Like

So, I’ve decided that one of my categories should be websites that I like since this blog is all about me, me, me. Did that sound conceited? Anyway, I decided that for my first installment of “Sites I like,” I should start with Stuff White People Like. This site is all about, well, stuff that white people like. The last time I checked, I was not white so I have no idea if this is stuff that they actually like or not but it is entertaining.

http://stuffwhitepeoplelike.wordpress.com/

And yes, maybe I should call this category “Sites THAT I Like” but I don’t want to. This is my blog so I’ll do what I want. Why are you judging me?

The good time girl

I was looking at Hilary Clinton the other day and I started wondering if she ever has fun or if she has any hobbies. For some reason, she doesn’t look like someone who knows how to have a good time. If she does have something that she really likes to do, besides busting Bill’s balls, what would it be? Does she ever get drunk and dance on the tables? Does she go skydiving? Does she trip little kids for fun? Does she run around streaking because someone dared her to? Does she go to night clubs and drops it like it’s hot? I don’t think so.

The only thing she looks like she might enjoy is reading. I wonder why that is? Does she give off the impression of being boring simply because of her physical appearance? She has a boring hairdo, she has the same bored looked on her face all of the time and she has cankles. Cankles and a good time do not not generally go together. Or do they?

David Blaine is nuts

It’s funny to me to hear how many people talk about David Blaine and say things like he’s a genius, he’s amazing, he’s unbelievable, he’s inhuman. Everytime I look at him, I just think that he’s crazier than a shithouse rat. Don’t get me wrong, the man has done some interesting things but anyone who stops and thinks about it will see that he should be in a straight jacket somewhere. And yes I know that he probably could let himself out of a straight jacket anyway, I’m just saying.

Not only does he do bizarre stunts but his whole persona is just weird. When he gives interviews its like watching a freak show. The man is just creepy. The way he talks, the way he looks at people, it’s unnerving. I wouldn’t be surprised if one day he was on the news because they found out that he was a serial killer. Ok maybe not a serial killer but at least a peeping tom.

Now comes the really weird part. Despite all I just said, I find this man to be incredibly hot. I know, I know, it doesn’t make any sense at all. But the heart wants what it wants and mine is attracted to the freakiness that is David Blaine. I’ll go and hide from shame now.

Damn, that’s ugly!

You know, I think that almost everyone, no matter what size or shape, can find at least one part of their body that they really like. Ok, I don’t believe that at all but I heard someone say that you should find one part of your body that you love and keep searching until you love your whole body. Um, ok. Anyway, I was trying to do that and the longer I looked in the mirror the worse everything looked. Here is what I found:

• My eyes are too big
• My lips turn down in the corners which makes me look like I’m frowning
• My nose looks like a big mushroom
• My fingers are fat like hot dogs, you know the ones that plump when you cook them
• My hair is thinning
• I have facial pores that are the size of moon craters
• My breasts look like 2 tube socks with baseballs in them

And I quit after that because all I was doing was getting depressed. So I decided that maybe my best feature couldn’t normally be seen by myself. I know I have a butt but I don’t get a chance to see it much, you know, because it’s behind me. So I decided that I was going to love my butt and train myself to believe that I had the nicest, roundest, firmest ass there ever was.

So that’s what I told myself and then I actually looked at my rear end. You know, there’s a reason that I don’t look at it that often and it has nothing to do with it being behind me. It’s because my ass is awful. My butt looks like an old dirt road that is now full of bumps and potholes due to years of abuse. My ass literally looks like James Edward Olmos’ face. It’s just not a pretty sight. So for the time being, I have given up trying to find my one perfect body part.  

It could be worse

My “What I’m thankful for” category is pretty empty, so I thought it was time to beef it up. After once again listening to my ex talk about how badly his life is going, I realized that mine isn’t so bad. My children aren’t that irritating, I’m employed, I don’t live really close to any annoying neighbors, I have a car…. maybe I should save all of these things for future “What I’m thankful for” installments.

Anyway, I’ve decided to focus on the fact that no matter how bad I think things are, they are always worse for someone else. So now I’ll take comfort in other’s misery. Ok, that didn’t sound right. I won’t take comfort in the misery of others, I’ll take comfort in knowing that my life is better than a lot of other people. Ok, I feel better.

Just because it comes in your size

doesn’t mean that you should wear it. As a “somewhat” obese fat large person, I know that not everything is going to look good on me. I try to wear clothing that is both flattering and appropriate. But sadly, not everyone understands this concept.

Now we all know that the people in this country are getting larger and larger but yet, some of them continue to buy clothing that is smaller and smaller. This causes us poor, unsuspecting victims to be blind sided by the bad fashion choices of others. I think I’m a nice person, so what exactly did I do to deserve to be subjected to a 300 lb. woman wearing a bikini top and (not so) mini-skirt? Did I kill someone? Did I steal something? Did I wear white after Labor Day? What was it? Whatever it was, I now apologize and repent for this unknown sin.

Now I would like to speak to this woman or any other person of large girth that chooses to wear too small clothing. I applaud your confidence and/or empathize with the blindness that makes you not see what you look like. However, I must say that while you are asserting your rights to wear you want, you are causing others undo stress and possibly nausea. We should all do our part to make the world a better place and in your case, that could mean saving the muffin tops, love handles and back fat for the privacy of your own home. Because much like your social security number, how many fat rolls you have is information that is never meant to be shared with the general public.

So it is my hope that everyone will wear appropriate clothing. Not only for your size but your age, too. And by that I’m talking to you 60 year old grandma with the midriff bearing tops and low riding jeans. Hell, while I’m at it, all of you wearing saggy pants need a wake up call, too. If you have to reach behind your knee to get the wallet out of your back pocket, I’m talkin to you. Ok, I’m going to stop now because I see this going on and on.

Body hair

Except for a couple of key areas, women should not have body hair. Unfortunately, I have this medical condition and one of things it causes is excessive body hair. So that means places that you normally wouldn’t or shouldn’t have hair, I do. I have a lovely little beard that currently consists of 24 hairs, intially there were only 4. I guess the gang’s all here.

And worse yet, today I discovered that I have hair on my thighs. No matter how good you look, you are not sexy with hairy thighs, not even men. I’m afraid to actually look at myself for fear that I’ll discover hair growing somewhere else. Men shouldn’t have nipples and women shouldn’t have beards and thigh hair.

I don’t like people

I don’t know when it first really dawned on me but the truth is that I don’t really like people. And I don’t mean specific people or people of a certain race or anything like that. I just don’t like people in general. The ironic part about this is that for someone unknown reason, people tend to gravitate towards me. It’s like some kind of cosmic joke.

I wasn’t always this way but after my parents died, my mom in particular, I really changed as a person. I know people sometimes change after the loss of a loved one but I don’t think that most of them change so drastically. I became a completely different person and it’s like I had no control of the situation. I’m not a mean person at all and I always try to treat people with the same respect that I like to receive. But the truth is, the only people I truly feel at ease around are my children.

When I was a teenager, what I loved most was hanging out with my friends. One of my friends lived right across the street and I spent so much time at her house that people thought I was a part of the family. Now, I have to make an effort to call this friend and her family every 2 or 3 months, just because I feel like I should.

Most of my own family is deceased but I live near an aunt and some cousins and I never call them or go and see them. When I first moved to the area they would call and try to include me in plans but I always had excuses about why I couldn’t attend. I could never tell anyone the truth. What would I say? “Oh, I’m sorry that I can’t attend the family reunion but the truth is, the thought of being around all of you makes me sick to my stomach. I truly hope that you’re not offended or take that personally.” Somehow, I don’t think that would go over well.

Sometimes I think about the way I once was and it kind of makes me sad. I miss the part of me that could go anywhere and be around anyone and not feel anxious. Or go to an outing and not spend the entire time watching the clock and eyeing the door. I wish I could see someone walking towards me and not get the urge to run the other way. I can’t count the number of times I’ve left a store because I saw someone that I knew and didn’t want them to see me. If they saw me, I always had to put on my fake smile and pretend like I was happy to see them but I never was.

They say when people that you love die, a part of you die also. I always figured that meant a piece of your heart, however in my case, it apparently meant that the core of my being also died, too. In the beginning, I thought it was just a phase and I would get back to the old me. However, 14 years later, I think I have to accept the fact that it’s here to stay. The thought of spending my entire life avoiding people is sad in a way but it’s how I’m most comfortable.