I am SO over-due for this...
* I am grateful for my continued health. Met with oncology this week and Dr. Paul said everything looks good. They took my blood to do the regular bloodwork looking for cancer markers and I haven't received any phone calls, which means they didn't find anything. No news is good news.
* I am grateful for my two regular massage clients that come to me every other week like clockwork. I haven't been seeing a whole lot of clients lately but these two are keeping me alive at this point. No idea what I would do without them.
* I am grateful that my sister is still sober, like 130+ days or something. It has been so fucking amazing to actually have a little sister in my life, really for the first time since we've been "adults". She was MIA for so many years, I just never knew what it was like. And it's really awesome.
* I am grateful that I have the sweetest, cutest, funniest, most chill nephew in the entire fucking world. I am NOT someone who likes babies or even kids very much. At all. I never want to hold people's babies and never really play with kids, not even my cousin's kids. But I could not love Aiden any more if I tried and I play with him constantly, can't stop kissing those cheeks. Oh. My. God. LOVE HIM.
* I am grateful for the friends that continue to stand by me through thick and thin, through arguments and misunderstandings and life and change. You go through shit, you deal with it like adults, and you move forward. Thank you for that.
* I'm grateful that I had the opportunity to go across the pond and experience Europe for the first time. Prague is an amazing city that I intend to visit over and over, and possibly move there eventually. Met some kick ass people (looking at you, Jan, Michel, Thibault, Majda, Edita, and Vladimir) and fell in love with the Czech Inn. And although Paris wasn't my favorite place on earth and London left something to be desired (though I did have the best lay of my life in Jolly Old England...), I will ALWAYS be grateful that I met Allie and Bez in that disgusting bedbug-infested hole of a room on our first night in Paris, and even more grateful they were moved into the 2nd non-bedbug room with us. I don't think I've ever felt closer with a couple of friends who could not possibly live farther away from me, but I am SO grateful for the day we spent in London (still need to get that "London is okay, I guess" jumper...). You girls are so kick ass that you actually have me toying with the slightest idea of moving to Australia.
* I'm grateful that I've already been to two Avs games this season and have tickets to two more this month, going to possibly another early next month. Would be even more grateful if they'd fucking WIN one of 'em.
* I'm grateful for my job, my students, my staff, and my coworkers. And though I'm super duper sad that my boss has been promoted to a corporate position, because she's the best boss I've ever had, I'm also super excited that one of my co-managers has been promoted to director and will be my new boss. I'm pretty excited to see what's gonna happen at the school and what direction he takes us in.
* I'm grateful that the student I've been pouring SO MUCH of my time and energy into, hounding and harassing and calling to wake him up and texting to make sure he makes up class or passed a final, has been completely kicking ass and taking names and is definitely going to graduate on-time with his class in December. And I'm even more grateful that he absolutely blew me away today when I finally had a chance to get on his table and evaluate his bodywork. I could not possibly be more proud of him and I was in tears when I got off the table today. The boy has some mad skillz and I am just so grateful that he didn't fall through the cracks and drop out.
* I'm grateful to own my beautiful townhouse with my comfy couch and my heavenly bed and all my creature comforts. I know there's so much I take for granted (like my beautiful granite kitchen that I barely use...) but I am so lucky to have what I have.
* I am grateful that my family is in the middle of planning my grandma's 90th birthday bash. Not a lot of people get to have a 90-year-old grandma, and mine is totally kick ass. Did I mention she got hit on 2 weeks ago by some dude in her retirement home? Hells yeah. My grandma is the bomb diggity and her party is gonna reflect that (we hired a DJ for her 80th so I'm sure 90 is gonna be a kick in the pants too.)
* I'm grateful that not only do I have the best tattoo artist in Denver but he's become a good friend of mine along with his hysterically funny, super hot ass wife. And he still lets me pay partially in massage trade for top-quality work even though he's got a 3-4 month waiting list and definitely doesn't need to be doing any favors. And getting invited to their wedding in Vegas was one of the coolest things ever. Not sure I'd ever had so much fun in 36 hours. I love going into the shop and I think that might be half the reason I can't seem to stop getting inked, cause I just love being in there for four hours at a time...
* I'm grateful for my family, of course, though I so rarely see them anymore. My weekend schedule still makes it hard to get to many family functions, but I'm so grateful the holidays are coming up, which includes 2 weekends of the clinic being closed for xmas and New Year's. Need to fill up on cousin time!
* I'm grateful that my cat didn't run away when I discovered my carport door was apparently open all night last night. Also pretty fucking grateful that my laptop/PS3/ANYTHING ELSE wasn't stolen. But mostly just glad Loki is still here cause I would have been DEVASTATED without my little boy.
* As always, I'm grateful to anyone who took the time to read this and see what sorts of good things are going on in my life. Hopefully it inspires you to write your own list so you can look at the sunny side with me. :)
Monday, November 14, 2011
Friday, September 16, 2011
Gratitude List 9/16/11
- I am grateful for Prague. The people, the food, the beautiful city, the rich history, the hockey, the beer, all of it. I am grateful that Prague exists and that I can someday, hopefully, move there. Nemluvim Cesky ale ja se brzy.
That's all I got right now cause all I can think about since I got back from Europe is how much I miss Prague...
That's all I got right now cause all I can think about since I got back from Europe is how much I miss Prague...
Tuesday, September 13, 2011
Things I Learned in Europe
I also posted this to Facebook while I was in Paris last week. So again, please pretend this is fresh and shiny and new and that I'm still in Paris, writing this from a bistro.
- As mentioned earlier this week, carbs and meat do not make you fat. Eating the typical American processed food diet and being lazy make you fat. Get up, walk around, eat better foods, and you can eat as much bread/cheese/wine/gravy as you want.
- French men are the horniest bastards ever and they pretty much just expect you to fuck them simply because they were polite enough to ask. Non means non aux États-Unis, but not in France. No means "what? Why not? I dont get it."
- Need a pick-me-up? Go out and meet a couple of Australian girls, especially slutty ones. They are about the funniest chicks I've ever met. Australian whores make everything more entertaining, even when dumbass hostel roommates are waking everyone up at 2am.
- Black men love hips and booty no matter where in the world you are. I think it must be genetic. But I get the distinct impression that the ones in France don't see my particular body type often (I definitely don't see many French girls built like me, skinny bitches that they are). I'm having to beat them off with a stick. Wait no, I'm not beating them off... I mean... You know what I mean. I've been propositioned by more black guys and Arabs than anyone else. Comment son dit "baby got back"?
- Madame Ung was actually an okay French teacher. I've been managing just fine here, even when I'm with someone who doesn't speak English. Though I spent two evenings with my beautiful Czech boy who didn't speak English and I managed that too.
- I have a gift for accents, according to locals. The French are surprised when I break down 2 sentences into convo and warn them "je parle un peu de Français", then tell me my accent is good. In Prague, I practiced pronouncing every word I saw on every sign and was told by several locals that I'd be a natural with the language, if only I knew what the fuck I was saying. Ale nemluvím Česky.
- I love the freedom Europe provides. America has rules for everything and basically treats us like children, in ways I didn't even realize until I got here. We are a country driven by lawsuits and money, and it's out of control. In Europe, they don't warn you of every possible outcome of every possible decision you could make, just to cover their asses in case of a lawsuit. Either don't do something stupid or, if you do, suffer the consequences of your actions. Suing McDonalds for the coffee being too hot would NEVER happen here. Freedom and accountability for one's actions. It's a beautiful thing.
- There is such a thing as too forward. I can't believe it. Obviously, I am not shy about sex and dating. I see no reason to hide basic human need and instinct, and I see no reason for there to be negative connotations associated with a woman (or man) enjoying and seeking physical satisfaction. But damn, France! I've never had an American guy flat-out ask me for sex within a minute of meeting. Sure, you know that's what he's getting at, that's why he buys my drink or flirts or finds a reason to touch me, compliment me, whatever. But to flat-out ask me "Sexe avec moi, s'il vous plaît?" after following me to the Metro? Wow. Or telling me 2 minutes after sex that you're married, but it's no problem to you? Wow. Or asking me to come get nailed on your boss' desk on your lunch break? Wow. Or saying "I want to bite your lips, all of them" right after "bonjour"? Wow. I have met my match. France, you have bested me. I'm usually dying to kiss a guy 30 min into a good first date, but Paris has put my eagerness to shame. Didn't think it was possible.
- Wine is always the appropriate beverage for any time of day for people of any age and drinking straight from the bottle is perfectly fine. Well, in France. In Prague, replace wine with beer. Legal drinking age is 16 and they give non-alcoholic beer to kids. No, really. The Czech drink more beer per person per year than any other country in the world (500L/person!). Beer is literally cheaper than water in Prague. Pivo, prosíme!
- Australians and New Zealanders are always sexy. No exceptions.
- Men can wear small shoulder bags (satchel, man purse, whatever you want to call it) and it is in no way feminine, "gay", or emasculating. It is practical. Tons of hot, masculine, normal men are walking around with shoulder bags, some with brands like Nike on them and some high-end designers like Louis Vuitton. The more I see it, the more I'm finding it sexy and cool. It would be so nice for American men to get over themselves and adopt this so that I won't be stuck with their wallet and sunglasses in my purse.
- The Euro sucks. Everything in France is wicked expensive. Except for crépes on the street and croissants in the morning. Also, fun fact: croissants here taste like happiness and dreams.
- Not all hostels are created equal. God bless the Czech Inn.
- I would trade all the sex I've had on this trip (which isn't THAT much but still) for one more hour talking with my Czech boy, wherever he is. Who knew I'd turn out to be a romantic???
- As mentioned earlier this week, carbs and meat do not make you fat. Eating the typical American processed food diet and being lazy make you fat. Get up, walk around, eat better foods, and you can eat as much bread/cheese/wine/gravy as you want.
- French men are the horniest bastards ever and they pretty much just expect you to fuck them simply because they were polite enough to ask. Non means non aux États-Unis, but not in France. No means "what? Why not? I dont get it."
- Need a pick-me-up? Go out and meet a couple of Australian girls, especially slutty ones. They are about the funniest chicks I've ever met. Australian whores make everything more entertaining, even when dumbass hostel roommates are waking everyone up at 2am.
- Black men love hips and booty no matter where in the world you are. I think it must be genetic. But I get the distinct impression that the ones in France don't see my particular body type often (I definitely don't see many French girls built like me, skinny bitches that they are). I'm having to beat them off with a stick. Wait no, I'm not beating them off... I mean... You know what I mean. I've been propositioned by more black guys and Arabs than anyone else. Comment son dit "baby got back"?
- Madame Ung was actually an okay French teacher. I've been managing just fine here, even when I'm with someone who doesn't speak English. Though I spent two evenings with my beautiful Czech boy who didn't speak English and I managed that too.
- I have a gift for accents, according to locals. The French are surprised when I break down 2 sentences into convo and warn them "je parle un peu de Français", then tell me my accent is good. In Prague, I practiced pronouncing every word I saw on every sign and was told by several locals that I'd be a natural with the language, if only I knew what the fuck I was saying. Ale nemluvím Česky.
- I love the freedom Europe provides. America has rules for everything and basically treats us like children, in ways I didn't even realize until I got here. We are a country driven by lawsuits and money, and it's out of control. In Europe, they don't warn you of every possible outcome of every possible decision you could make, just to cover their asses in case of a lawsuit. Either don't do something stupid or, if you do, suffer the consequences of your actions. Suing McDonalds for the coffee being too hot would NEVER happen here. Freedom and accountability for one's actions. It's a beautiful thing.
- There is such a thing as too forward. I can't believe it. Obviously, I am not shy about sex and dating. I see no reason to hide basic human need and instinct, and I see no reason for there to be negative connotations associated with a woman (or man) enjoying and seeking physical satisfaction. But damn, France! I've never had an American guy flat-out ask me for sex within a minute of meeting. Sure, you know that's what he's getting at, that's why he buys my drink or flirts or finds a reason to touch me, compliment me, whatever. But to flat-out ask me "Sexe avec moi, s'il vous plaît?" after following me to the Metro? Wow. Or telling me 2 minutes after sex that you're married, but it's no problem to you? Wow. Or asking me to come get nailed on your boss' desk on your lunch break? Wow. Or saying "I want to bite your lips, all of them" right after "bonjour"? Wow. I have met my match. France, you have bested me. I'm usually dying to kiss a guy 30 min into a good first date, but Paris has put my eagerness to shame. Didn't think it was possible.
- Wine is always the appropriate beverage for any time of day for people of any age and drinking straight from the bottle is perfectly fine. Well, in France. In Prague, replace wine with beer. Legal drinking age is 16 and they give non-alcoholic beer to kids. No, really. The Czech drink more beer per person per year than any other country in the world (500L/person!). Beer is literally cheaper than water in Prague. Pivo, prosíme!
- Australians and New Zealanders are always sexy. No exceptions.
- Men can wear small shoulder bags (satchel, man purse, whatever you want to call it) and it is in no way feminine, "gay", or emasculating. It is practical. Tons of hot, masculine, normal men are walking around with shoulder bags, some with brands like Nike on them and some high-end designers like Louis Vuitton. The more I see it, the more I'm finding it sexy and cool. It would be so nice for American men to get over themselves and adopt this so that I won't be stuck with their wallet and sunglasses in my purse.
- The Euro sucks. Everything in France is wicked expensive. Except for crépes on the street and croissants in the morning. Also, fun fact: croissants here taste like happiness and dreams.
- Not all hostels are created equal. God bless the Czech Inn.
- I would trade all the sex I've had on this trip (which isn't THAT much but still) for one more hour talking with my Czech boy, wherever he is. Who knew I'd turn out to be a romantic???
Mission Accomplished, Not As Expected
I published this to Facebook 2 weeks ago, forgetting to link it here. Just pretend I'm still in Prague, okay?
As I sit here on my last night in Prague, alone in front of the hostel as my friend flirts with a Frenchman inside, I'm further saddened by the sudden and unexpected loss of my Czech boy.
Two perfect days, driven by fate and happenstance, came to such a strange and abrupt end without any true closure, and all I can do is sit and remember, going over all of it in my mind. Did he come by on Sunday but I missed him somehow? Did he simply disappear into the ether? What if Tre hadn't gotten on that tram with his backpack, putting him into the foul mood that changed the evening? Would any sort of goodbye be sufficient anyway? Not likely. Saying goodbye was going to be painful, regardless, but the lack of a goodbye kiss stings more than lemon on a paper cut. Each time I return to my room and see 48 blooming pink roses, it hurts all over again.
Two perfect days of communication with few words but perfect understanding, a perfect 2-day relationship with an unhappy ending, a romantic European adventure ending in forever-unrequited love and an eternal "what if?".
Well, I've been saying for months that I plan to fall in love with a wonderful man in Europe. I guess I should have been a bit more specific when declaring this to the Universe...
As I sit here on my last night in Prague, alone in front of the hostel as my friend flirts with a Frenchman inside, I'm further saddened by the sudden and unexpected loss of my Czech boy.
Two perfect days, driven by fate and happenstance, came to such a strange and abrupt end without any true closure, and all I can do is sit and remember, going over all of it in my mind. Did he come by on Sunday but I missed him somehow? Did he simply disappear into the ether? What if Tre hadn't gotten on that tram with his backpack, putting him into the foul mood that changed the evening? Would any sort of goodbye be sufficient anyway? Not likely. Saying goodbye was going to be painful, regardless, but the lack of a goodbye kiss stings more than lemon on a paper cut. Each time I return to my room and see 48 blooming pink roses, it hurts all over again.
Two perfect days of communication with few words but perfect understanding, a perfect 2-day relationship with an unhappy ending, a romantic European adventure ending in forever-unrequited love and an eternal "what if?".
Well, I've been saying for months that I plan to fall in love with a wonderful man in Europe. I guess I should have been a bit more specific when declaring this to the Universe...
Friday, May 27, 2011
*shrug*
Take it all in stride. Roll with the punches. Shake it off. Move on. Get over it.
Things don't always work out the way we plan. Actually, they very rarely work out the way we plan, huh? Sure, there's something to be said for manifesting your reality, doing the right things and putting the pieces in play to bring about the change you wish to see in your life, but the Universe often has different plans.
And you can never really be ready for the curve ball you never expected. That just comes at ya from out of nowhere.
*sigh*
This is exactly why I knew not to put all my eggs in one basket, when I really didn't know all that much about the basket to begin with.
So cryptic. I know. I don't feel like divulging details or whining specifically to the one or two people who read this. I'm just... I'm frustrated. Frustrated and disappointed. Though I've said for 6 months that I was not getting my hopes up, apparently I was wrong and was totally hopeful, almost expectant.
Not to say things are dead in the water. Just... no idea what's gonna happen next or what my next move is or if I should even make a move or just wait and see...
Ugh. Whatever. Shrug it off. Roll with it. It's not the end of the world. It's not the first disappointment of its kind, nor will it be the last (I assume).
Guess I'll just focus on the Europe thing...
Things don't always work out the way we plan. Actually, they very rarely work out the way we plan, huh? Sure, there's something to be said for manifesting your reality, doing the right things and putting the pieces in play to bring about the change you wish to see in your life, but the Universe often has different plans.
And you can never really be ready for the curve ball you never expected. That just comes at ya from out of nowhere.
*sigh*
This is exactly why I knew not to put all my eggs in one basket, when I really didn't know all that much about the basket to begin with.
So cryptic. I know. I don't feel like divulging details or whining specifically to the one or two people who read this. I'm just... I'm frustrated. Frustrated and disappointed. Though I've said for 6 months that I was not getting my hopes up, apparently I was wrong and was totally hopeful, almost expectant.
Not to say things are dead in the water. Just... no idea what's gonna happen next or what my next move is or if I should even make a move or just wait and see...
Ugh. Whatever. Shrug it off. Roll with it. It's not the end of the world. It's not the first disappointment of its kind, nor will it be the last (I assume).
Guess I'll just focus on the Europe thing...
Tuesday, April 26, 2011
Gettin' mah learn on, yo
Been a long damn time since I've taken any continuing education classes so I am way overdue. Just packed up my table and linens, brewed some coffee for fuel, and am headed up to Vail to take a 2-day class on advanced myofascial techniques for the head, neck, & jaw. Looking forward to receiving some awesome work and gettin' my learn on. I'm sure my clients will appreciate some new tricks being folded into my repetoire as well. Bonus: I get to crash on the couch of one of my graduates. Fun times!
Monday, April 4, 2011
Gratitude List 4/4/11
- I am grateful to have one of the most important friendships in my life suddenly restored and revived, seemingly as strong as it was before our mysterious falling-out. I'm still unclear what happened to wedge so much space between us but I seem to have my bff back and better than ever.
- I am grateful that my mommles is happy and in a new, healthy relationship after the "just barely enough to qualify as a relationship" situation she had for 4 years before that.
- I am grateful that my cousin is thriving post-lung transplant and is gaining weight beautifully. She was only 68 lbs and at death's door on transplant day so seeing her at a whopping 98 lbs is such a blessing.
- I am grateful that I continue to be happy and healthy. Next oncology appt isn't until May but everything is going well so far and, in July, I'll be a 2-year survivor.
- Though work has been a trial lately and I've had a rough couple of weeks with some of my students, I am extremely grateful for the ones I never have to worry about. I have so much respect and such deep appreciation for the perfect attendance, 4.0 students who never ditch my class. <3
- I am grateful that one of my favorite people is moving back to Denver from Austin after a 4-month long failed experiment. I miss that girl!
- I am grateful that I seem to have killed whatever the hell was biting me in my house. Never saw a single bug but oh well, I think it's gone now.
- I am grateful that I am going to Europe this summer! Prague, Vienna, and possibly Budapest! WOOOOOOT!
- I am grateful that my sister is out of rehab and, though it's only been three weeks, appears to be doing really well so far. *fingers crossed* that she keeps it up.
- I am grateful for my freakin' adorable nephew. *kisses*
- I am grateful for www.ugliesttattoos.com for keeping me entertained every single day.
- I am grateful that it's nearly Denver Cruisers season!! And, for that matter, Art Walk season, camping season, hiking season, and all that other fabulous non-winter stuff.
- I am grateful that I happen to have one of the best tattoo artists in Denver.
- I am grateful that my hair is finally getting closer to the target length and that the red dye I've been using weekly since August doesn't seem to damage it.
- I am grateful for Punk.com, PinupGirlClothing.com, and DSW Shoe Warehouse.
- I am grateful for my massage clients and for my caretaker gig with my sister. Payin' my way to Europe, yo.
- I am grateful for the interwebs, even though I have been a little tweaked lately at the amount of information that's available out there...
- I am grateful for the sleeping kittehs in my house. Sleeping kittehs do not knock things off of tables.
- I am grateful that my mommles is happy and in a new, healthy relationship after the "just barely enough to qualify as a relationship" situation she had for 4 years before that.
- I am grateful that my cousin is thriving post-lung transplant and is gaining weight beautifully. She was only 68 lbs and at death's door on transplant day so seeing her at a whopping 98 lbs is such a blessing.
- I am grateful that I continue to be happy and healthy. Next oncology appt isn't until May but everything is going well so far and, in July, I'll be a 2-year survivor.
- Though work has been a trial lately and I've had a rough couple of weeks with some of my students, I am extremely grateful for the ones I never have to worry about. I have so much respect and such deep appreciation for the perfect attendance, 4.0 students who never ditch my class. <3
- I am grateful that one of my favorite people is moving back to Denver from Austin after a 4-month long failed experiment. I miss that girl!
- I am grateful that I seem to have killed whatever the hell was biting me in my house. Never saw a single bug but oh well, I think it's gone now.
- I am grateful that I am going to Europe this summer! Prague, Vienna, and possibly Budapest! WOOOOOOT!
- I am grateful that my sister is out of rehab and, though it's only been three weeks, appears to be doing really well so far. *fingers crossed* that she keeps it up.
- I am grateful for my freakin' adorable nephew. *kisses*
- I am grateful for www.ugliesttattoos.com for keeping me entertained every single day.
- I am grateful that it's nearly Denver Cruisers season!! And, for that matter, Art Walk season, camping season, hiking season, and all that other fabulous non-winter stuff.
- I am grateful that I happen to have one of the best tattoo artists in Denver.
- I am grateful that my hair is finally getting closer to the target length and that the red dye I've been using weekly since August doesn't seem to damage it.
- I am grateful for Punk.com, PinupGirlClothing.com, and DSW Shoe Warehouse.
- I am grateful for my massage clients and for my caretaker gig with my sister. Payin' my way to Europe, yo.
- I am grateful for the interwebs, even though I have been a little tweaked lately at the amount of information that's available out there...
- I am grateful for the sleeping kittehs in my house. Sleeping kittehs do not knock things off of tables.
Monday, January 17, 2011
*DEEP BREATH* Okay, time to deal with some shit...
I FUCKING HATE CANCER.
I know. Everyone fucking hates cancer. Shut up.
I think I do a pretty god damned good job of not playing Woe Is Me as far as getting cancer is concerned. Overall, I'm pretty content with my decision to have a bilateral mastectomy, especially considering I had undiagnosed bilateral Paget's Disease that only came to light after my tissue had been sent to Pathology. The surgery saved my life. And I'm super stoked about having my life saved, please don't get me wrong here.
I am just so angry that I even needed it saved in the first place. I'm 30, not 60. This should not have happened.
Plugging away on the elliptical machine tonight, I can't help but look at all the women working out around me. Some thin and taut, the type I envy and kind of want to stab; some heavy and soft, the type that make me think "Whew, at least I don't need to lose as much weight as she does..."; but almost all of them with soft and squishy breasticles.
One girl in particular nearly put me over the edge into a sobbing mess of tears, as I did crunches on a fitness ball. She was a heavier-set girl, about 24 years old, probably weighs as much as me but 4 inches shorter, very pretty face and great hair, doing hamstring stretches on a yoga mat across from me. She was packing 38DD's (at least) that were all smushed into a tight sports bra, which put her cleavage somewhere near her chin as she sat with legs outstretched and reaching for her toes. Her bosom looked so soft and jiggly, I wanted to nuzzle it and motorboat her just to feel the waves. By contrast, I didn't even wear a bra, sports or otherwise, to the gym tonight due to my healing tattoo, and it made absolutely no difference. I ran for 10 minutes at 6 mph on the treadmill and only noticed I wasn't wearing a bra because the sweat that's usually caught by a sports bra was dripping down my abs. They do not look soft or squishy or nuzzle-worthy. To me, they look hard and plastic, like upside-down tupperware bowls with overly-circular nipples. They are pretty much immobile and only exist to fill out my shirts and make me feel "normal". But I'm not normal. All y'all who don't have to (or get to) see me with my shirt off probably tend to forget that.
Which brings me to my 2nd point of why this sucks. Dating. I hate the trepidation that comes with someone new seeing them for the first time. I absolutely hate it.
Yes. I know. Men are simple, simple creatures, and I got well-laid when I was an A-cup without nipples. (Or hair & eyebrows, for that matter.) Like my mom told me last year, most men probably wouldn't care if I just put a couple of round rocks in my bra, as long as there's something to grab. Also, ass men LOVE me, so thank god for ass men. BUT it's all besides the point because this is about how I feel. And I feel like a science experiment every time I'm with someone new. I fear he's secretly turned-off by my scars. I'm self-conscious in ways I've never experienced, which pulls me out of a moment I REALLY enjoy being IN.
I'm dating someone new, and I really like him, but he hasn't seen me naked yet. The more I get to know him and the more I like him, the more I'm freaking out over showing him my Designer Impostors. Dude, dating sucked even when I had the World's Most Magnificent and Perky 38DD's. I hate having yet another level of SUCK added to dating, you know? "Oh, by the way, I had cancer so that's why my tits are all effed up" really isn't my favorite conversation to have. *sigh* Thank god he's an ass man... I guess I'll just focus on that...
Whatever. It is what it is, right? It happened. Cancer, mastectomy, reconstruction, all of it. It happened. I'm not getting my soft 'n' squishies back. There's absolutely nothing I can do about it but suck it up, be grateful that I'm alive and that my plastic surgeon did as good a job as he did, and continue to trust that men will always be happy to enjoy whatever kind of tits you put in front of them.
I just realized that this was not a terribly coherent note; really more of a stream-of-consciousness as I work through this anger and sadness. Minor setback, we'll call it. Fuck cancer. Ugh.
I know. Everyone fucking hates cancer. Shut up.
I think I do a pretty god damned good job of not playing Woe Is Me as far as getting cancer is concerned. Overall, I'm pretty content with my decision to have a bilateral mastectomy, especially considering I had undiagnosed bilateral Paget's Disease that only came to light after my tissue had been sent to Pathology. The surgery saved my life. And I'm super stoked about having my life saved, please don't get me wrong here.
I am just so angry that I even needed it saved in the first place. I'm 30, not 60. This should not have happened.
Plugging away on the elliptical machine tonight, I can't help but look at all the women working out around me. Some thin and taut, the type I envy and kind of want to stab; some heavy and soft, the type that make me think "Whew, at least I don't need to lose as much weight as she does..."; but almost all of them with soft and squishy breasticles.
One girl in particular nearly put me over the edge into a sobbing mess of tears, as I did crunches on a fitness ball. She was a heavier-set girl, about 24 years old, probably weighs as much as me but 4 inches shorter, very pretty face and great hair, doing hamstring stretches on a yoga mat across from me. She was packing 38DD's (at least) that were all smushed into a tight sports bra, which put her cleavage somewhere near her chin as she sat with legs outstretched and reaching for her toes. Her bosom looked so soft and jiggly, I wanted to nuzzle it and motorboat her just to feel the waves. By contrast, I didn't even wear a bra, sports or otherwise, to the gym tonight due to my healing tattoo, and it made absolutely no difference. I ran for 10 minutes at 6 mph on the treadmill and only noticed I wasn't wearing a bra because the sweat that's usually caught by a sports bra was dripping down my abs. They do not look soft or squishy or nuzzle-worthy. To me, they look hard and plastic, like upside-down tupperware bowls with overly-circular nipples. They are pretty much immobile and only exist to fill out my shirts and make me feel "normal". But I'm not normal. All y'all who don't have to (or get to) see me with my shirt off probably tend to forget that.
Which brings me to my 2nd point of why this sucks. Dating. I hate the trepidation that comes with someone new seeing them for the first time. I absolutely hate it.
Yes. I know. Men are simple, simple creatures, and I got well-laid when I was an A-cup without nipples. (Or hair & eyebrows, for that matter.) Like my mom told me last year, most men probably wouldn't care if I just put a couple of round rocks in my bra, as long as there's something to grab. Also, ass men LOVE me, so thank god for ass men. BUT it's all besides the point because this is about how I feel. And I feel like a science experiment every time I'm with someone new. I fear he's secretly turned-off by my scars. I'm self-conscious in ways I've never experienced, which pulls me out of a moment I REALLY enjoy being IN.
I'm dating someone new, and I really like him, but he hasn't seen me naked yet. The more I get to know him and the more I like him, the more I'm freaking out over showing him my Designer Impostors. Dude, dating sucked even when I had the World's Most Magnificent and Perky 38DD's. I hate having yet another level of SUCK added to dating, you know? "Oh, by the way, I had cancer so that's why my tits are all effed up" really isn't my favorite conversation to have. *sigh* Thank god he's an ass man... I guess I'll just focus on that...
Whatever. It is what it is, right? It happened. Cancer, mastectomy, reconstruction, all of it. It happened. I'm not getting my soft 'n' squishies back. There's absolutely nothing I can do about it but suck it up, be grateful that I'm alive and that my plastic surgeon did as good a job as he did, and continue to trust that men will always be happy to enjoy whatever kind of tits you put in front of them.
I just realized that this was not a terribly coherent note; really more of a stream-of-consciousness as I work through this anger and sadness. Minor setback, we'll call it. Fuck cancer. Ugh.
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