Maybe it should be: ask not what you can do for your bra, but what your bra can do for you.
I say this only because I am wearing my favorite bra. EVER.
It's supportive, it's flattering, and it makes my boobs resist gravity ala Wonder Woman, and gives me cleavage that just plain old makes me feel super-duper.
Not that I'm lacking in the bust department. I've got enough to go around, make my back hurt from time to time, and cause me consternation in shopping for shirts. But most bras kind of just hold things in place and look crappy, and don't give me a nice shape. This one is my exception.
Which is good. Because I really needed some support today. And sometimes, the best support you can get is from yourself. If you're feeling down, and finding it difficult to summon the means by which you make it through the day (and in this case, the week at all) you'll take what you can get.
Hence, good bra equals better mood.
So anyway. The week is ALMOST over. I'm exhausted. I've read a ton of books by Julia Quinn this week, and had myself empowered by my online book club after sheepishly admitting that they were all romance novels...to which there was a hue and cry that romance novels are nothing of which I should be ashamed, and that they're something that has transcended their guilty motif and moved into a very feminist movement.
Upon reflection, I have to agree.
I guess I'm having a really girly month. I'm thinking about a hair cut, and this weekend is girly weekend with my sisters and mom. (Yes, another weekend spent NOT car shopping. I did some the other night. Honest. At the end of a day at work, right now, I don't want to do anything other than hide under my coffee table and shudder in anticipation of the next day at work. Blah.)
I'm also having a big obsession lately with pondering life in general. I think it's that end of the year thing---what have I done this year, what has gone on this year, etc. It's been a long year--Dad's heart surgery in February, Serena moving to CO, Eero moving in, Quinn passing on, Shiva moving into the house, Lupe crumbling as I drive, Dan going back to school, my sister getting hitched. It's this whole conglomeration that shapes life--or maybe that just *is* life.
All these things for some reason have made me very aware of my mortality, that I'm only given so long on this earth. It doesn't seem fair to me, suddenly. I don't want to have to think about what my parents are thinking about--retirement, how many years do I have left, how many years do my parents have left. And I guess I don't have to think about it yet. But I'm struggling with this inner demon that's based on the Grasshopper and the Ant--have I saved enough, have I done enough, can I do more. The answer is always yes, I can do more, I haven't saved enough, I need more time.
And I glance down, and my bra, right now, is one of the most uplifting things and inspiring happenings all day. I've got great boobs for today. That's enough.
4 comments:
Where did you find such a perfect bra? Wherewherewhere?? Desperate women want to know! :P I'm so sick of support bras that don't, minimizers that just plain flatten, and anything that has bits and pieces that poke, prod, or dig in where they aren't supposed to dig. Too bad I'm too self-conscious to go without. :P
On a subject not necessarily about bras, I've been having one of those times when reality and the dreamtime kind of blend together, and I can't remember which things I lived and which I've dreamed. I do this from time to time, usually when I'm so supremely stressed out that I start operating on autopilot just to maintain my sanity. Anyway, I remember having this incredibly deep realization about life--the connection to the above is that I can't remember if it was something I encountered while daydream meditating, or something I dreamed. But anyway, it was that the secret of life and happiness is to find the thing that makes your life worth living. It's so...I don't know. But at the time, it seemed so deep and profound, that I remember stepping back from whatever it was I was doing, and going, "Whoa." So maybe there is something to it, I don't know.
Most people count the days to Christmas because they like it. I count the days as being the length of time before I get my empathy under control and can get back to normal. I hate the holidays. -_-
As for the above comment? Chalk it up to that scatterbrained autopilot thing I was talking about. That was from me, Sara. *sheepish grin* I think that maybe this is a sign it's time for bed.
--Sara
From one currently bra-challenged womyn to another, I understand the need for a good support system. I have recently found mine at Lane Bryant, but in eleven (or so) days, I'll be able to find support in so many more places. I'm excited about this.
So much HAS happened this year. It's hard to think that, just a year ago, I was engaged. And now, I'm just so happy. And to think, in less than two weeks, I'm going to lose all that weight, without having to do a thing!
I'll keep you posted, of course.
Hey, when did Eero move in?
First of all--Sara-now-south-of-the-Vortex, I got the bra at Lane Bryant, the ONLY place to shop for clothing. LOL And you're not alone, I've been having a devil of a time remembering if I really did something or if I was just dreaming about it...LOL
And Sara-still-in-bemidji, GOOD LUCK! I've been worrying about you and surgery. I wasn't sure what was happening but I think I have an idea and yay!!!! you! (:
Eero, by the by, moved in back in May, about a month after Serena move to CO. (:
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