Post #2 - Boobs aka Triathlon Giveth and Triathlon Taketh Away

So I noticed the other day that my strapless bra fell off.

Like, slide right down my belly.

Now, one with a rationale mind might think, “Oh, my boobs must have gotten smaller.”

Not me.

I blamed the bra.

“Oh, it must be stretched out…by my enormous jublies.”

So today I took myself bra shopping.

I grabbed a couple of D’s, and threw in some C’s - you know, just in case training really has taken a toll that I was not aware of.

When the D’s left room for a whole separate watermelon, I reluctantly tried on the C’s.

No matter how much I hoisted, pulled, twisted, adjusted – the suckers just would not fill the cups.

So I did what I am best at –

Turned on the denial, and bought myself some ice cream.

And then bitched up a storm.

Seriously.

Seriously.

A B-cup?

Not since the 5th grade had I ever sunk so low.

And it’s crazy – for as long as I could remember, I have lamented my large boobies– couldn’t wear the cute little tops, had to buy the orthopedic-looking bras – you know the drill, my large-breasted friends.

But now, all I can think of is that it’s not fair.

The whole episode trigger a memory of a scene from one of my favorite movies – “Beautiful Girls.” If you’re familiar with the movie, it’s the scene where Rosie O’Donnell give Timothy Hutton and Matt Dillon a tongue lashing for their love of all things Playboy and airbrushed.

She says that, in summary, God is a fair man – he gives heavier women big boobs, and skinny bitches small boobs.

And every time I watch this, me and my double D’s would scream at the tv, “Hell YEAHH!!!! Right on!!!”

Then I’d high-five each boob and eat a cheeseburger.

But now I’m like, “Hey - WTF?”

Okay, fine – I do work out a lot. And yes, my body has changed as a result.

But if God was going to take away my basooms, why’s he stop there?

What? He can’t see the sizable ass and hips from Heaven?

Doubtful.

The Man, I am told, can see all.

Shit’s not right, man.