the west end of vancouver in the summer time is made up of equal parts of greenery, blue skies, cement buildings and boobs. the buildings can be beautiful and definately the greenery (including what everyone is smoking whilst looking at the blue skies and boobs) is amazing, but what i can’t get over is the fact that i have seen more boobs in the past week than possibly my whole life – and mine are some of the smallest ones walking down the street. hmm, boobs.
i’m not posting a half nekkid thursday pic this week for a couple of reasons. a) you’re all probably tired of the “here is my belly” shots, no matter how varied i can make the pose; and b) i posted a fairly half nekkid shot earlier this week and if you haven’t seen it, click here. again, the theme is boobs.
am i the only one to notice that our generation, the 20 somethings of today, seem to aim low as far as living their dreams? case in point: think about what you would do, if you could have your dream job…most of my peers would say something that is merely a variation of what they already do for work, just with a random tweak such as working for themselves or in a different city. am i the only one that finds it hard to believe that we’re all that close to living our lives as we always thought we’d like to? what happened to the 5-year old dreams of being a firefighter or cowboy or dinosaur hunter? when did we all grow up?
i have been craving cherries for weeks now, since their shiny black-red goodness showed up at the over-priced produce store across the street from my apartment. the problem is that i buy most groceries and especially produce at good to extremely cheap prices, otherwise i don’t buy it, so i’ve held off fulfilling the cravings’ demands. today, they were on sale at safeway for a price that i could concede as reasonable enough. score. the first one i ate tasted so good, i ate 10 more. while putting them in the refridgerator. it’s a wonder i didn’t choke on the pits whilst inhaling them.
it may be embarassing to admit, but i now wear panties. i used to be a thong girl – for 10 years, in fact. panties were reserved for those “what? i’m not wearing this teeshirt and panties and ponytail to get you to look at my ass a lot and come hither, with me looking like the ultracasual girlfriend type that all guys apparently want…” moments. now, thongs are an issue to say the least. so i wear panties. the problem being, while my tummy and boobs have exponentially grown, my ass and hips have not – so i am still looking for the ultra small, low rise, made for people with no ass panties. those don’t exist anymore apparently and i have had to go a few months with regular hipster panties which are too big and look like granny-wear. today i found low rise, extrasmall, 100% cotton panties for a great price – 5 for $10. so i bought the exact same ones in 5 different colours of polka dots. score.
is it just me, or do boobs swell when you get really hot? more boobs.
people have taken to staring at my tummy when i’m walking down the street, in malls, waiting for them to pass me in the mutherfucking aisle of the supermarket. seriously. what are you staring at?
i can’t wait for this to be over and to go back to my normal size, weight, insomnia, belly button and peeing habits. and underwear.
one of the problems with being extremely short waisted, besides the panty issue, is that when you get pregnant, you carry your weight high. so i can’t give into old wives tales’ and believe that i’m having a boy (or is it a girl?) because i carry high and in front. that’s just how my body is made. further annoying about this high-weighted baby is that even though i still have little to no sag of the mammaries (best $250 i ever spent – but that’s another story), they rest on my tummy. i have lovely “my bra is too tight” half moon lines under the twins. generally, i don’t wear a bra. nevermind one that’s too tight. attractive. boobs, again.
the neighbor down and to the left of me has a pet bird. i would never own a bird, myself. if you let them out of their cages, they shit on everything and divebomb towards guests’ heads. keep them in a cage and you’re still screwed cuz they will chirp – which probably means they’re happy or something. i could only gain pleasure from owning a bird who was either dead, mute, depressed or only spoke on command and said things like “put the firehose away, you sexy beast.” point is: this neighbor has decided to poke the bird’s cage out of his window, almost directly below mine. every waking moment, i get to hear that bird chirp and so does my cat and i’m thinking of lowering her on a rope to the cage and letting her go willynilly.
