Vain, self-involved, self-centered. All about ME.....................................

I am so enamoured with my new boobs it is hysterical. First, one has to remember that I am not a stand-in-front-of-a-mirror kind of gal. I am the kind of gal that can go a week or more without washing her hair and/or combing it and be okay. But I gotta tell you, since my surgery I find myself not only standing in front of the mirror on a regular basis, semi-worshiping my boobs, but making them jiggle slightly, JUST BECAUSE I CAN!

It isn't about their size, or about how I look in clothes, it's all about the fact that they are right where boobs are suppose to be and after all these years of them NOT being where they're suppose to be I am simply, totally, amazed and mesmerized by that fact. Ready to ROFL (thank T-girl for my shorthand)? I caught a couple minutes of the Bo Derek biography last night and honest to God when they played the clip of her running on the beach in the movie 10, I totally thought to myself, "What is so hot about hers? Mine are at least as good if not better." Yes I did! It is so bad that had I known I was going to be this pleased I think I would have put the cost of them onto a credit card back in the day. Of course had I done that not only would I still be paying them off, but gravity most likely would have played its dirty trick on me and they would be back where they started by now. By waiting till now, not only do I appreciate them more, but I will be senile and in the nursing home by the time they fall again so who cares?

And what is up with this?

While I was in the bridal store the other night, totally spying on some woman trying on gowns I had this overwhelming urge (NO! not to get remarried, three times is DEFINITELY enough of that) to work there. I could soooo picture myself helping some happy bride-to-be find the perfect dress (no matter the price tag since I work on commission) fluffing, flouncing, oohing and aahing over her, being an integral part of making the most important day in her life perfect. (No matter that I think all the days of the marriage are way more important than one's wedding day). I was positively caught up in the whole idea of being a perfect bridal consultant.

And the same thing happen in the shoe store when my youngest was picking out her shoes to go with her prom dress. One of the sales people told me it was her first day on the job and this sent me right into daydreaming about working there. Again how I would be able to help someone find the perfect shoe (how easy would that be as all shoes are perfect in my eye), how wonderful it would be to be surrounded by gobs and gobs of new shoes, the excitement of unpacking a new shipments and feeling like it was Christmas morning even if I couldn't keep them all, the practical side of me planning how to keep from spending every penny I earned on shoes since my employee discount was enormous in my fantasy. Yes! I am aware that I need a twelve step program.

I am not unhappy with my current job, not even bored, and this is not normal behavior for me. Just makes me wonder if there isn't something new brewing on the horizon for me? Time will tell I guess.

Speaking of new...I have also been thinking a lot about the writing of the book that I know is inside of me. I ask myself why I have not done so as of yet. I know that I am completely intimidated and put off by the idea of writing an entire book, which is one of the reasons I love blogging so much. It is short sweet and to the point simple. Another reason I never get started is because I can never totally decide on a specific enough topic. For this reason I beseech you, what topic of book would you like to read by me?

And now that I have fulfilled my indulgence of me, I want to share one more little story with you. Yesterday my sister called me and told me that she finally got the letter I wrote her dated February 15. My first reaction was to say, "Well it is a good thing you didn't die during surgery then because you were suppose to get it so I was sure you knew the things I wrote as you were going into surgery." Seems it had gotten thrown into a pile of mail and my sister isn't as anal about things as I am so she was just getting around to going through it yesterday. The big point to the story is she went on to tell me how much the letter meant to her and that she couldn't remember the last time someone had told her that they were proud of her. Never mind the sadness of that fact, take this as your cue to write a letter to someone you love and let them know what they mean to you. Not an e-mail, not a card, but an honest to goodness pen and paper letter sent through the old fashion postal system, and then trust that while it might not reach them when you think it will, it will reach them right when it is suppose to.