I don’t know if I’m having a moment of “hating” on people or simply need to vent, but either way here is what happened:
a couple of days ago, I’m in the locker room of my gym returning to my locker from the shower. Although I have a towel wrapped around me, there isn’t much privacy. At some point the towel has to come off so I can lotion up and dress. My normal locker is in front of a mirror, so while I’m getting myself together, I always sneak a few peaks (hey, at least I’m honest). This is my routine.
Well this day, a circle of Hens spent almost an hour sharing their plastic surgery stories. As each Woman compared the size of their breast/fullness, and lipo-suctioned tummies; my virgin body parts seemed to move further and further away from the “in” crowd. I go to this gym almost every day and I have never seen these women before! But here they are taking up my space, hogging up the mirror, and making me feel like my regular breasts and tummy were no longer good enough!
I immediately flashed back to the summer of 2004; Mardi Gras. Embracing my wild side I was ready to get some beads the “traditional” way. I couldn’t wait for the parades to end and Bourbon St. to begin. My Husband and I hit Bourbon St. about 11p.m. My endeavors soon hit the shelf as I watched women from 30 yrs to 70 yrs (I’m serious!) bare perfectly paid for double and triple “D’s”. I glanced down at my goods again and realized Mother Nature was no competition for saline and silicone. The end result: I went back to the Hotel Bead less.
I miss the days when “normal”, “regular” cleavage was enough, and as long as your stomach didn’t stick out further than your ass, you were good! As much as I speak about being extraordinary, for now, this is one category that I am perfectly, happily “regular” in….I think.
Now I’m asking the question: Can’t we all just be……”Regular” again? I’m listening….Holla at ya Gyrl !
