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If you are worried about this break from the 39 Acts of Kindness, don’t be. I’m working on putting together some great St. Patrick themed fun! I’m excited to tell you about them but this isn’t the time. Right now I am preoccupied with my boobs.

You heard me.

photo (3)6 months ago I had an irregular mammogram which lead to another mammogram and then a sonogram and then a biopsy. I still have the scar from where they stuck a needle to take out a chunk of me to investigate further and put a metal marker in its place. They put the marker in so during future exams if there is a question about that same area, it shows that it was already examined. My mom was treated for breast cancer just a couple of years (or maybe it was one) early so I was shocked (and thrilled) that the test came back negative. Like any other lady part test if you fail once you have to go back every 6 months for a while and today is my lucky six month boob check anniversary. I’m glad I’m going since I’ve had some pain (not double over and die pain but, “hey that kinda hurts” pain) and a very odd skin infection (at least that is what the dr thought) in/on my boob(s). I’m sure it’s nothing but it is always better to know and, if needed, get treatment, then sitting around twiddling your thumbs as your body rebels against you. Luckily, I’m getting a sonogram not a mammogram. Although I don’t think mammograms are nearly as horrible as people say. Some would say it hurts less because I have big boobs while others would say it should hurt more because I have big boobs. Whatever. They only get squished for a second and then it’s on with your life. Lesson — go get a mammogram.

While we are on the topic of my boobs, let me tell you about my movie theater trips. They involve my tatas. My movie theatre uniform is work out pants, tennis shoes, sports bra, tank top and hoodie. Each clothing item has a purpose. Work out pants are just comfy and allow for wiggles and leg shifting without any difficulty. Tennis shoes are nice since they cover your entire foot protecting it from the goopy gross floor. Sports bra and tank top are the comfy equals to the pants and the hoodie allows for me to cover my head and lean my head back without touching the back of a gross chair (gross in so much as a zillion other grimy and greasy haired owners have leaned against it in the past). Plus the hoodie up gives the world my international sign of “I’m invisible. Don’t talk to me.” I started this at a job so I could maintain the HR suggested open door policy while still giving my employees the understanding that now wasn’t the best time … as I was invisible to them. I’ve since adopted it for plane rides and, if necessary, dog park outings. Of course none of these items covers my cleavage. In fact they allow for a clean popcorn runway right down my blouse. You’d be amazed at how often I miss my mouth and the popcorn makes a run for it right down my shirt. Constantly. Then I sit there in the dark theatre and dig it out hoping no one sees me. It adds to the entertainment of the show. Probably does so for others as well.

In general I have a sports bra coverage, cost, and support issue. First of all why are they so expensive? Someone needs to fix that. I have a zillion of the Target flimsy sports bras that really do nothing. I wear them at Bar Method. Since they do nothing I’m constantly giving someone a cleavage show when I bend over. The biggest problem with this is I really don’t care. Target sports bras are cheap and comfy so I’m wearing them. I’m not bouncing around all over the place in Bar Method I’m moving inches and breathing heavily concentrating on not throwing up. I’m too busy to care if someone is looking down my blouse. Most of the class is almost always women anyway so no one cares (I assume). Every once in a while a straight guy manages to find his way in and then he gets an extra show. Good for him. Welcome to Bar Method!

Today I’m going with my friend to her gym to do some sort of dance class. It’s a huge sacrifice for me not to go to Bar but she says it’s ridiculously fun so I’m trying it out. I had to dig through a giant pile of clean clothes to get one of my sports bras that actually have some holding power. I figured dancing equaled bouncing and the Target non-sports bra wasn’t going to cut it. Then I proceeded to put it on inside out 3 times. Not once, not twice, three times. Seems impossible right? Wrong. Totally possible. Each time I’d start laughing again as I tried to wiggle my way out and then wiggle, tug and pull my way back in. Sports bra (non clasp kind) are an X rated comedy sketch waiting to happen. It is NOT EASY to get those suckers on and off. You know where it is nearly impossible? The pool. It is actually almost impossible to put anything on in the pool locker room. Everything, including you, is moist and there is no way to get dry. So there you are standing in a moist room, with moist skin, trying to yank down a sports bra that has decided to go no further than your armpits. Once, at the pool, I failed so miserably at putting on a sports bra post swim and was laughing so hard at myself, I had to take a time out to go pee. Sports bra 1/2 on. One boob hanging out the bottom refusing to corporate and the other mashed at the wrong angle, mocking the other one. Thank goodness I was alone! That pool is frequented by JPL employees. Can you imagine? I could have failed at the simple task of getting dressed in front of an actual rocket scientist!

Well — I have to go get my boobs checked. Enjoy the boob-o-licious pics of Riggins and me. Due to the position of my chest and the angle of any self taken iPhone picture 90% of my Riggins/Wendy photos have my cleavage front and center.

 

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