Monday, March 24, 2008
Wijvenweek/Music Monday: "Obsessed about my Bre*sts" - The Condos
For other tales of musical adventure, please visit Soccer Mom in Denial.
First of all, thanks to everyone who helped us out on our vacation plans. Your answers not only clarified this particular road trip, but actually, now we have plans for several others! Yay!
Today is the start of Wijvenweek (Women's Week) - a project started by a group of Flemish women bloggers. You can read more about it here, over at Goofball's place, who invited me to join. Basically, a group of international women bloggers are going to spend the week blogging about issues that are particular to women in an ultra-feminine, humorous way. You can see all the daily posts here. Most will be in Flemish, but there will be some English entries as well.
Now for me, that's going to be a bit of a challenge. For example, there is not an ultra-feminine bone in my body. Secondly, in terms of all things ultra-feminine, in my life that's led to more tragedy than comedy. But I'm giving it my best shot, as the fab Pat Benatar would advise me (who deserves her own Music Monday).
So, today's theme is "my body," and my body, sadly, can not be discussed without starting with my bre*sts.
When I was younger, I was the envy of many of my classmates. I had THEM - the "sisters," "the girls," and I had them early. Oh, to be so envied... and yet, here are some of the things I experienced, because when you're young and you have THEM people a. think you're older than you really are, and b. that you want IT. And we all know what IT is, don't we? And if you need a reminder of just how clueless I was at that age, you can read all about it here. I was so not ready for IT in any way, shape or form.
So here are some of the highlights of my long history with my bre*sts:
1. In seventh grade, the boys in my class stealing into the girls locker room during gym time and stealing my bra. Then I had to go to my MALE teacher (walking cross armed back up from gym) and explain to him what happened and that I needed it BACK. And then he sent me out of the room so he could question the ENTIRE class about it.
2. Finding out that my first real boyfriend had only gone out with me because of my big bre*sts, but then dumped me for someone else who also had big bre*sts, but would do IT.
3. Having my pediatrician suggest bre*st reduction surgery when I was 17 (I was a whopping 36C at the time).
4. Having strangers approach me and discuss the joys of bre*st reduction surgery. Complete. Strangers.
Yeah, so, like, my breasts aren't my favorite thing. And why don't I get that surgery? Well, a. my insurance won't pay for it. Despite documented back and massive other health problems, women with big bre*sts are left to hang, so to speak. B. the couple of times I've had surgery as an adult, things never went well. So, I'm scared. Call me a wuss.
So to change to a lighter tone, I give you The Condos singing "Obsessed about my Bre*sts". This is just a great song that goes much deeper than "the twins" and one that I'm sure every woman can relate to.
Since youtube is still not speaking to me, here is the link.