5 things make a post

1) It hurts to breathe. This sucks.
2) I am anal-retentive enough to want to photo-catalog my work clothes. So I can ask people what articles of clothing I should buy. Um.
3) Lab puppies seem to enjoy peeing on my feet.
4) Upon seeing Tommy at the Glambot concert, T leaned over to me and went, "God, you are short. How much do you weigh? Seriously, are you standing in a hole?" Because Jason Patric's snark comes with us wherever we go.
5) When I'm nauseous, I need to remember that strawberry Pocky is always a safe food. omnomnom.

I love my big big boobs.

With great cleavage comes great responsibility:"The lesson, ladies, is that great cleavage comes with great responsibility. People who shame women for wearing “too-revealing” clothes like to center their objections on women’s clothing “choices,” but make no mistake—this is not about what we choose. This is about the things we don’t choose—having chests or butts or legs or necks or hair or any other part of our human bodies that others decide to project their particular sexual interests—and their slut-shaming—upon."

Man, do I feel the hell out of this. I've got big boobs, there's no restraining them completely. They bounce, they nip, they spill. They draw attention. They create cleavage. This attitude of nothing I wear being "appropriate" enough, it created a lot of problems for me at my old job. I was stalked by a student, and scolded by my boss because my inappropriate dress was apparently too much temptation for him-- did I mention that he was a blind guy? So yeah. I almost had surgery because of this stupid attitude that cleavage is something I expose for attention instead of by accident of size.