Diary, I don't care if you want to know this or not, but I hate the fact that I have to wear a bra. Now, I don't hate the fact that I'm a girl, just that I have to wear a bra. I can't even comfortably shlep around the house without one. And this sucks!
I think I got stuck on this idea from watching Pepper Ann on TV yesterday. I should stay away from cartoons.
Or maybe it's because I moved to Tucson. I think I'm jealous of all the chicks that get to walk around in teeny tanks and halter tops. Do you even know what I'd look like if I wore the same kind of shirts these smaller chested women get to wear? I'd look like a hootchie, bustin' out all over the place. And then there's the fact I couldn't wear half of these tops because there's no place to hide a bra under them, so that would just completely rule me out, even despite the fact that the shirt would look terrible on me.
And while I'm ranting about bras, could I mention that I hate shopping for one? I know that the ladies in the shops come up to you with tape measures around their necks, telling you that most women are wearing the wrong size bra and offering to measure you up so that you can make the proper choices, but I've decided that that doesn't help. I don't care what the tape measure says, not all bras are built the same, and different styles fit different ways. So while I may be a ##@@ in one style, I could be a ##@ in another, or a ##@ in the next (yeah, I had actual sizes in there, but my modesty got the best of me, sorry Diary).
Now don't get me wrong, Diary, like I said, this is just about bras, not the fact that I'm a girl or that I have a sizable chest. I'm not complaining about my body, I'm complaining about my clothes.