80% of women are wearing the wrong bra...

80. percent. That's a big number sweeties. And I have the sneaking suspicion that I'm part of this statistic. While doing laundry last night in preparation for fantastic beach holiday, I was watching the 11:00 Oprah. This may have been a repeat, or maybe she was just having another one of these types of shows, because I know she's done this before. The British 'what-not-to-wear' ladies wander around malls generally insulting women they don't know and whisk them away to remake them. How does one GET a job like this? I can make fun of people's boobs, large hips, flabby asses and general lack of style. Hell, that's one lap around the mall for me! Not that I go to the mall. I don't. Shut up.

Anyway, this one woman was wearing a 36C and busting over the top of it, which I am currently doing in my 36D. I've been complaining about my 4 boobs for awhile now. The sisters are just plain out of control. My hormones are going nuts...that and I'm gaining weight, which I always seem to do in my chest, conveniently enough for my husband, but not so convenient for ME. Actually, he's more of an ass man than a boob man, but that's beside the point. My ass is also succumbing to gravity, but the only remedy for that is exercise and well...that just doesn't appeal to me right now. Check back with me next week after I've spent several days on the beach looking at younger girls with all their perky shit. My ass will be in tae-bo, pilates and yoga for hours trying to fix this flab. But for now I'm dreaming about all of the yummy food and wine I'm going to be consuming on this vacay. Where the hell was I? What the shit was I talking about? Geez...rambling girl today...

Oh yeah, my boobs...yeah, they're big. Anyway, this girl was wearing a 36 C - after being fitted by some chick who knows WAY too much about bras and boobs and feels people up for a living put her in...get this... a 34 G. Ahem. WHAT? G. Great. This does not bode well for me. Now I'm deathly afraid of finding out what I am supposed to be wearing. I think I should come down a back size, to a 34, but if you do that, you're automatically supposed to go UP a CUP size. So that automatically puts me in 34DD territory. Lovely. So now I'm contemplating going after work and getting a new bra in my new size, just to see what happens. The whole reason this is even remotely important to me right now is because I have to do something even MORE horrible than find someone to fit me for a stupid bra.

I have to buy a new bathing suit. Tonight. For amazing beach vacay. And I'm tortured. And I have to go BY MYSELF - which we all know is a huge no-no of shopping. It's like the exact opposite of going to the grocery store hungry. When you do that you buy too much food. When you go shopping by yourself you either buy a) nothing b) something for your kids/husband/pets c) something from the sale rack that you justify because it was 'so cheap' but you'll never wear d) shit that looks bad on you that you'll never wear. Huh? You don't do that? It's just me? Really? Oh...huh.

So I'll let you know tomorrow how it goes. Think good thoughts for me and the sisters. We need all the help we can get.