12 August 2006

Boobs and Titties!

Currently, I'm going through boob envy. I don't know at what point this envy has reared it's ugly head, but it's here. Like a good paranoid and overanalytical girl I am, I am dissecting every possible reason for this feeling. Ah, I can never let feelings easily pass.

The thing is, I am feeling incredibly sexy lately. Sexy thoughts are running through my head. I'm sexually curious these past few days (or rather, the thoughts that have always been there are coming alive). My body feels good. I feel fun and sexy. Fun and sexy like sassy, put your hair up in pigtails and wear your best schoolgirl outfit and have an ass-slappin' good time fun and sexy. Fun and sexy like pull those pigtails and show me who's boss, teach this bad girl a lesson that's hard to swallow. Heh....I'm even working myself up just by writing this blog. Whew.

*insert greasy smile here*

My partner recently returned home from being on the road for two and a half weeks. Seems like nothing when you have 52 weeks to fuck with in a year, but believe me - it's tough. Especially when you overload on porn to kick off the time alone. He's gone tonight but returns tomorrow. I leave on Wednesday for two weeks. Time is running out! All I want is my hair pulled, my skin bitten, and my ass slapped. Show me that you love me - leave a playful mark!

Anyway, back to the boob envy. I'm feeling sexy and naughty lately. I'm liking my body, despite being a little fleshy in the middle section. My skin is clear. The days are bright and there's this very loving, honeymoon vibe that has surrounded us since my partner got home. I feel loved, I feel beautiful. But what about my boobs?

Is bigger better? Would I actually feel better mentally if they were bigger and bouncier? Would the attention I would garner be legit? After playing with them for a while, will I become bored?! Is this a symbol of my own insecurity?

Yes, of course it is. Life wouldn't be better with bigger titties. Sure, some guys (and hopefully some ladies) would selfishly agree. I'd probably get more stupid attention and a little less eye contact. I'd have to buy a new wardrobe. Am I falling into the ridiculous assumption that I would be more confident with bigger tits? Who knows, maybe I would be bizarrely more confident.

I'm a tall girl. I'm slender but not a walking stick figure. I have hips, I have a nice ass. I wouldn't complain at a little more boobage. Other than the obvious brains and nice smile bit, my best feature would be my long legs. Gams, or walking sticks, don't get enough credit. It's always the boobs that get objectified and maybe I'm in need of a little objectifying lately. Don't get me wrong, I'm very content with my legs. They're classy and no one can accuse them of being implants or plastic. I can pull off trashy garters and I can pull of fishnets with great success. But still...my boobs ain't tumbling out of my shirt as I like them to! Tumble, dammit, tumble!

My boobs are a big insecurity. Not because they are small - because they are quite uneven. Yeah, yeah...I know it's completely normal. Many girls are uneven. None of my former partners nor my present (and very hot) partner have complained. However, I live with them. I contain them in a bra (almost) everyday. I see them attempt to jiggle in all those appropriate (and sometimes inappropriate!) moments. I'm the one who has to find an expensive bra to conceal this insecurity and try to create some harmony (AKA, even cleavage) between my breasts. I feel like I'm not all there, as far as my boobs are concerned. I'd be satisfied if they were both the same size - even though I'm sure this insecurity is simply obsessed on and personally exaggerated. I'm sure my boobies are just fine the way they are.

My partner is in a band. The singer loves to drunkenly coax the ladies into flashing their boobies for free swag. He takes pics of all the boobies on tour and proudly displays them on his MySpace and cellphone. Yes, I have my stupidly jealous-for-no-reason moments. I am learning to brush them aside. As I dissected my jealousy, I realized that secretly I want to be that wild girl who actually has the nerve to flash her titties. The only thing that holds me back has been this damned insecurity about my somewhat uneven boobs. I want to be objectified!!! I live in a city where NO ONE objectifies me! Well, no one under 60 and beyond my slum neighborhood. I want to catch someone looking at my small but reasonably proud amount of cleavage! I want someone to notice me cross my legs and find the subtly in that sexually appealing!

Even though it's the guys who are eyeing up the boobies, the women have always been worse in pointing out these kinds of natural flaws such as having uneven boobies. When I got my nipple pierced a long time ago, I had one of the most unnecessary embarrassing moments of my life. If you've ever had your nipple pierced, you know that you don't really feel like putting on a bra afterwards. I walked out of the piercing room, content at my new piercing and a little dizzy with my extra sensitive nipples. This woman was sitting in the waiting room, along with a few other people. She pointed at me and loudly barked, "I bet you got that one pierced". She pointed at the slightly bigger boob. I declined to tell her what I got pierced. Oh, but she went on and on and on. It was like a terrible Saturday Night Live sketch, where five minutes seems like eternity. The other people in the waiting room shuffled around nervously. I became uncomfortable and irritated as this chick was obsessed with my boobs! She kept calling out the fact that my breasts aren't "perfect". I felt smaller and smaller. The woman that pierced me finally shut her up by saying that it was none of her business and that no woman has perfect real breasts. All that embarrassment for a simple piercing. Dumb bitch.

Yeah, that was just one very obvious incident that added to the insecurity that has always been there. I used to be so insecure whenever a partner first saw me naked. Now, I'm comfortable. They may be a small handful but I have delicious looking nipples. Sure, I can't necessarily fill out a shirt to the point of button popping, but I won't have back problems when I grow up. I won't worry about saggage. I'm stuck with them - I have to learn to be happy because being miserable with yourself isn't sexy and doesn't help you out in the bedroom.

Besides, I got me some long gams to wrap around my man.

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03 August 2006

No Longer a Tour Widow...for now

Late Monday night, my man returned home! Good grief, what a lengthy time apart! Needless to say, I am glad that he is around again.

I was on pins and needles all night. It felt like we were dating again and it was all shiny new. I got all prettied up, even though he was scheduled to arrive in the middle of the night. I didn't care. I just wanted him to see me again, looking fresh and dolled up even though the first thing he wanted to do was take a shower with me. So, at least he saw me dolled up for a good fifteen minutes!

He came home, tired and furry-faced. I kept staring at him, as though I have never seen him before. What a handsome man, he takes my breath away! We talked for a bit and got him settled in. It was nice to sit and talk with him - and not just over the telephone. Damn, did I ever miss him.

Clearly, he missed me too. We showered together and there were plenty of passionate kisses between us. Even though being apart sucks big time, time apart is often good. It helps you realize that all those little aggravations that come with living with someone are just little meaningless things. You appreciate your partner, with a little time off and space. You are more grateful to have that person in your life. I think it benefited me to have a long distance relationship with him. I like to think that I never take him forgranted, though I'm certain that we all do in some way and at some time or another. I remember how much it sucked to live in two different cities. It wasn't easy but it taught us to value one another and enjoy each other. Even with the simple things, like holding your lover's hand. We certainly enjoyed one another the night he came back from tour. Wink, wink. Knudge, knudge.

I'm glad to say that he won. Aunt Flow lost the race! Yippee! For once, my body worked with me and not against me! We got in some time to get "reacquainted" and the next day I got my period. At least I got a little action before I was stricken with "the curse". Speaking of action, last night we put on some doowop and kissed. I find that kind of music especially fun to make out to. It makes me feel all fuzzy romantic inside. It makes me dizzy and want to kiss and be kissed. Drunk with love - Le sigh!

Yes, everything feels great and back to normal. We've been talking a lot and enjoying each other's company. We have been eating bowls of ice cream between kisses. I mentioned how one day I would like to be called his wife and he didn't run away with sheer terror. Okay, actually I asked to be called his Wife-o. Haha...I love words with an O at the end of them.

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