Sunday, February 19, 2006

Tits Up

As I mentioned at the end of my previous post, I helped a friend move house this weekend. As I was packing up her bathroom that morning, not to mention unpacking her kitchen that evening, I wondered how on earth she could accumulate so much in the space of 18 months. Have you checked what's at the back of your bathroom cabinet lately? And as for the pantry in the kitchen...why do we continue to keep such stuff??

This got me to thinking about the surplus I have laying around my house. I've been here for 15 years...that's a shitload of accumulation. I have plenty of cupboards in the kitchen...but do I ever have enough room to put anything? No, of course not. Because my cupboards are filled with all manner of serving dishes and platters and odd glasses etc that I haven't used for years, if I've EVER used them at all.

My bathroom vanity unit was filled with moisturisers and cleansers and various types of age-reducing paraphenalia that I don't even recall buying. It seemed that someone had snuck into my house and littered my bathroom cabinet while I wasn't looking. It's all a bunch of crap. I cleaned out a total of 3 grocery bags full to the brim of soap, rusting hairpins, half empty bottles of shampoo, exfoliants and the like.

We buy all these products because we think they may improve our skin, our bodies, our whatevers(?) and for the most part they do...if they're compatible with our skin type. There's a lot of money and traipsing back and forth to the malls finding out what works isn't there?

Which brings me to my next thought. Cosmetic surgery. I've a dear friend who has recently had some surgery. She had a breast reduction, some lines removed from around her eyes and I believe they also removed a piece of flabby skin from her stomach that had been bugging her.

My body is not what it used to be (I've lost count of how many times I've typed that line across this page). Yes, I'm afraid gravity has won out...my bod lost the battle. There are things reaching to places I'd rather not mention, and I'm not talking about great heights. But I hadn't given much thought to cosmetic surgery. Me and pain, we aint good friends at all. In fact I must have one of the lowest pain thresholds in all humanity...ok, maybe not, but you get the picture.

Anyway, a week after my friend's op, we're down at the Mall doing the coffee thing....she drags me into the public toilets....into the wheelchair cubicle...hauls her shirt up and says..."What do you think?". Well, what could I say? They were right there...perfectly placed, like an 18 year old's...you know? just...right...THERE. And she wasn't wearing a bra and they stayed there....ALL...ON...THEIR...OWN!

I was green with envy, my own breasts drooping further with shame. How is one supposed to react when faced with so much glory?

"Wow" *eyebrows raised*...is the best I could come out with.

"You can touch them if you want...go on...touch them" *beaming proudly*

"They're magnificent" *expression of awe*

"Touch them!" *thrusting chest forward*

"Uh..."

If there were silicone implants involved, I doubt I'd have had as much trouble feeling my girlfriend up....but this was the genuine article and as fabulous as they might look, I wasn't keen. I managed to mumble my way out of it...can't recall how I did that, just know for sure I never touched them...we exited the cubicle and I started breathing again. I was sure to start sweating if we'd stayed in there much longer. Never thought I'd see the day that I was scared of a pair of woman's breasts. I've a pair of my own, I know what they're about and they aren't scary...in fact they can be extremely impressive in some situations.

Did you know when they give you a reduction, they actually cut the nipple right off your wobbly bit...put it to the side....remove the surplus and then sew your nipple back on?? What if you lost all sensitivity??!!!?? That's not a risk I'd be willing to take, no matter how far down to my knees my tits had wandered.

My friend is a few years older than me, and you all know how much growing and learning and thinking we do over the course of a few years...maybe I'll feel that way when I get to the age she is now? Maybe I won't? Maybe I'll win the lottery and have a complete body overhaul? Maybe I'll hit my head against a brick wall and lose all mental capacity to think about body parts if I'm lucky?

Or maybe I'll just continue to put up with the body I have already...fighting it into that pair of pants....sucking in my stomach to get through small spaces....forcing my tits into this top or that one, and then feeling the need to 'adjust' them for the rest of the day/night...gotta make sure those puppies are pointing in the right direction eh? (I know you know what I'm talking about).

There appears to be an excess of surplusness bombarding me at every turn....breathing apparatus may be required.
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