Thursday, December 30, 2010

There is no way to defy gravity....Part One of Two

I am a 40-something year old woman.  This means all of my body parts are 40-something as well.  While I've had to do some internal maintenance on various items, I have resisted any external maintenance. 
For example, my nostrils are big enough to emit a high pitched whistle during a strong wind but I've never even considered getting a nose job (even if I had the money to do so).  My posterior is practically non-existent, my gut is too big, I'm short and so on.  I've just never had it in me to change what I started out with in any permanent way for aesthetic purposes (save the tattoo on my shoulder). 
The two areas of my physique which I've always thought were doled out pretty well (in the 'fitting room of life') are my chest and feet.  Now, I know there are folks in life who have, shall we say, enthusiastic attractions to each of those areas.  While I say 'to each his own', it's not what I'm talking about.  I'm simply saying they are reasonably well built and seem to fit right. 
Let's assess, shall we? 
40-something year old feet.  I clip my nails, keep them clean and polish them in the summer for open-toed shoe purposes.  Further, I moisturize my heels and do my best to keep them soft enough to prevent 'clicking' as I walk barefoot on the linoleum or tiled floors.  To me, this is sufficient - moving on...
40-something year old chest (after having borne two children).  Let me sum up their decline like this: 
In my 20's, I could spend $9.99 on a department-store bra and it did the trick with absolutely no adjustments - heck, if I had a fan going on 'high', my nostrils would give a whistle, the thing took it as a 'call to duty' and practically put itself on (a la "Bedknobs and Broomsticks"). 
By my 30's, I'd now had the two kids and discovered gravity truly does exist (Newton didn't need an apple, he just needed to be a 30-something year old woman).  At any rate, things were still reasonably easy to deal with when I discovered a chain store designed solely to provide bras and underwear.  More expensive, yes, but all you had to do was open a drawer, or sift through a display and you could find each of the bras in almost every size.  I figured I was set for life.  Ten years later, I would find myself lamenting 'How could I have been so wrong?' as hooks bent, straps snapped, and things just generally started falling apart.  No matter how much I adjusted those straps, or yanked the bra down in whatever direction it had just defyed, I had a new "center of gravity" and it wasn't pretty.  I needed help.
Enter a boutique (not a store, not a shop; a 'boutique') that specializes in "Professional Bra Fittings". 
Five years ago, I scoffed.  Four years ago, I nobly thought 'to each her own'.  Three years ago, I started taping my button down shirts closed.  Two years ago, I casually threw out the idea that it might be "fun" to have a fitting.  This Christmas, when asked what I wanted, I blurted out "I'dreallyloveafittintgatthebrashop,i mean, boutique!!!" and then asked for oxygen. 
To be continued.....

Wednesday, December 29, 2010

Chain Reaction

Some weeks ago, our home was the unfortunate recipient of a fifty foot pine tree blown over in high winds.  Construction is ongoing and I thought it might be nice to share some of my thoughts on the progress...  With any luck, if you're reading, you find those thoughts amusing.

Dear Construction Dudes,
While I appreciate what you are doing, you should be aware that with every shingle you rip from our roof, you also rip what tiny bits of sanity may still be remaining in my dog's brains.
Please know that each grain of sanity that falls through the hourglass is replaced with loud barking.
Though I haven't actually been counting, with each bark, I'm fairly certain another of my hairs turns gray.
With each graying hair, more and more "people" (read "idiots") will think my husband is my son.
Each time a person turns in to an idiot, the global impact is a perception of us as a weaker country.
With every lessened degree of perceived strength, more and more people will actually start to believe that America truly does "run on Dunkin'" (a slogan which has disturbed me from its inception).
Once that perception becomes commonplace, Dunkin' Donuts establishments will become easy targets for things like cheesy decorating schemes (ooh, too late), a surplus of locations which will reduce profit at that level and even new-age terrorism ('impacting oil supply is so passe, let's hit 'em where it really hurts...right in the donuts')
Do we really want to propagate that message? I think not.
So, in conclusion, let me just say that in the time it took me to write this, you finished ripping the shingles off the back of our house, so....um....in the words of Emily Litella "Nevermind".
Love, Me
PS - If you got a giggle out of this, I'm glad.
PPS - If you took this seriously, well, start checking out other blogs and we'll call it a day.
PPPS - Yes.  I have entirely too much time on my hands.