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and last updated January 24th., 2007.
WELCOME TO MY DAY..
IT IS NICE TO HAVE YOU SHARE IT WITH ME...
Anyway, with less time expended in the dentist's chair daily, and with a view to freeing the kids from the kind of parental house-clearing they dread, (and to partially funding my ever-growing dental needs), I've been doing some more work with eBay-- post-stocktake clearing some things that haven't sold in the shop, and lightening the load on the home foundations by cleaning out some closets here.
Until I left Australian shores for the first time in 1998, I didn't realise that, in certain environments, big breasts are considered an attractive asset, and I was so unimpressed with my growing cupsize that I had planned to splurge part of my recently acquired superannuation payout on a breast reduction.
And since some men will do anything to avoid venturing into a lingerie department, one friend came up with a great idea of how to avoid doing so, with a website called Bras That Fit , which included useful advice on how to measure one's bust in order to work out one's correct cup size.
So I measured myself the way they said and fed the dimensions into their calculator, and it hummed and had for a while and then told me I was outside the range of their products since they only go up to CUP-size K!!
Well folks, with a replacement front tooth precariously and painfully and supposedly permanently in position, I have been attempting to regain some kind of culinary confidence, but so far just the SOUND of the husband crunching into crackers and cheese between meals, or biting into an apple is enough to send the shock-horror waves right through my jawbone, and my hand over my mouth instantaneously.
As to my large jar of treasured chocolate-covered honeycomb blocks, that has been donated to kitchen cupboard supplies. Not only do I DARE not , I WANT not, which is, no doubt, going to be good for the figure.
And at home I found a box of carefully packed unworn or worn-once bras- a record of my years of struggle to find a reasonably priced bra, sold in Australia, that fits me!
Without going into too much detail, I will just say, here, since I have detailed much of the discovery in my travel diary, that three months in USA persuaded me against that surgery, and I have never reconsidered it!
But here in Australia , big-breasted women (henceforth referred to as BBWs), are not supposed to want to wear black bras without underwire, and the battle to buy a black Playtex 18-hour bra, style 4125, size 20DD has gone on between me and the big stores , and even between Playtex and me, for years now, whereas in USA I can pick a pack from the supermarket shelves!
And so it was that I began canvassing my American internet friends to see which of them loves me sufficiently to go buy bras for me, since greater love probably hath no man and all that.
"Let's work out what you SHOULD be wearing", he said, "and then we'll get
you properly outfitted!
So I did some minor maths calculations and it seems that if I were half an inch smaller I would be able to fit into one of their K models, but that, as far as they are concerned , I am something of a freak!
Well, I always knew being a BBW had some distinct disadvantages.
But lately, I have discovered another distinct advantage in being thus well-endowed.
Now I know enough about life on the internet to know that a KCup will get me a long way in video-chat rooms. But just as I tactfully tell men who want to send me trouserless pictures that I happen to think there is more to a man than his penis- that I am more interested in what he has ABOVE his waist, preferably above his neck- so I am determined to be valued for more than my bustsize!
One of the reasons I like to buy Tshirts and windcheaters in USA is that their cotton knits are quite different to ours. For some reason, stains float out in the wash like magic, unlike our "Made in Taiwan" garments which adopt foodstains as though welcoming orphans into the clan.
And as any BBW will confirm, one's skirts and trousers never get food-spotted but one has a built-on driptrap akin to those plastic crumb-catcher bibs we sell for little kids whose mothers get sick of the same staining system!
One doesn't lose earrings!
At the weekend, for the third time in as many months, I retrieved a much-loved wear-every day-to-work lapiz-lazuli earring from my KCup after a whole day without it, Nature handing out, with one hand, what she takes away with the other!
I get a lot of compliments on my smile, which is why not being able to smile for a month was so awful for me, but perhaps, now, I can declare a third claim to fame...along with the boobs and the smile, I can be recalled as the woman who never lost an earring!
Love to everyone ,and everyone on our side!
-from
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©Robin Knight, 2007.
