currylove

Posts Tagged ‘my bras don’t fit

So I had my first real training sessions with my guy.  We go over the basics (height, age, weight) and just like last time, there’s disbelief in his voice every single time I give him an answer:

Him: “How old are you?”

Me (whispering): “35”

Him (loudly): “35?! REALLY?”

Yes dumbass. We went over this a week ago.

Him: “How tall are you?”

Me: “5’2″”

Him: “Really?!”

Me to myself: WTF?

Him: “How much do you weigh?”

Me (super softly): “120”

Him (super loudly): “Really?!!? 120?? Wow.”

Me: “Ok, are you going to believe ANYTHING I tell you?”

Him (laughing): “Well, I believe you’re a girl.”

That made me giggle too, because let’s face it, he’s staring right down my workout top most of the time.

SO THEN… we do the body fat measure. I have to hold out this stupid machine right in front of me, he input my height/weight/age and it gave a reading.

Him (LOUDER THAN EVER): “OK! SO YOU ARE 31.7% BODY FAT!”

I looked around to see if anyone was listening. HOW EMBARRASSING! Of course, everyone is just working out with their iPods in and not paying any attention to what’s going on… and I’m sure his loudness was just me hearing things…but still!

So we sit down and he goes on to tell me I probably want to get to 26-27%. I basically looked at him like he had 2 heads because 1) I don’t think I’m 31% body fat to start with and 2) if I am, HOW AM I GOING TO GET TO 26%??? Does he see the size of my freaking boobs? WHERE DOES HE THINK THAT FAT IS COMING FROM?!!?!?  (I mean, besides my muffin top.)

It was a good workout (even if he did make me do jumping jacks – as my friend said, just so he could watch) and I’m scheduled for another session tomorrow. AND tomorrow, we’re taking measurements. I’m sure we’ll do it in the middle of the gym, loudest voice possible, with the numbers beamed up in bright neon for everyone to read. Sheesh!  Good thing he’s cute and I day-dream about fucking him… SOOOO cliche, but fun 😉

 

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It had been all quiet on the Western match-making front for a bit – and then, on Monday while I was shopping, I called home.

Dad: “We need to talk to you- call us when you get back to your place.”

Me (a little panicky): “Why? What’s going on ??? What’s up??”

Them: “Just call us later.”

Me: “Just tell me now! What is it?!?!?!”

Dad: “So, there’s another boy”

OMG! I thought someone was sick or died!!! Jeez — why they thought they couldn’t tell me that while I was shopping is beyond me. Did they think I’d throw a tantrum and start freaking out in the middle of the store? They’re so weird sometimes.

Me : “That’s fine!”

Dad: “But, he’s a month older than you. So his mom was going to check and see if he was ok with that or was looking for something younger.”

Me: “Ok!”

Shit like this used to get me soooooooooo angry. And now, I don’t care. Is it completely insane that BEING THE SAME AGE IS NOW TOO OLD??? Yes. It is. Do I care enough to get worked up? No.  I’m not sure why it doesn’t bother me anymore… maybe it will again in the next month or so, but for now, I just can’t muster enough energy to care.

So I guess dad emailed him and we’ll see what the response is.

Then, just today,… Z’s aunt called. She asks my mom: “So, how are they doing? When are they meeting??”

My mom, while telling me the story, was just like: :”WTF.”

My mom says to her: “Well… they’re not talking. He never calls CurryLove and doesn’t bother to respond to her texts or anything. He didn’t even call or email when he got back from his training.”

SO THEN! Because my mom is awesome, she says to me: “Why should you have to do all the work?!?! He didn’t ever email you. He could’ve still text-mext you! That doesn’t take any time. He could even do it while sitting on the toilet.”

HALLELUJAH. SHE HEARD ME!!!!!  All those times I thought she didn’t, she heard and she listened. I love when she surprises me 🙂

Z’s aunt said she had no clue about anything and thought we were still talking. Ok, seriously, what the fuck is he telling them?!!? She said she’d ask him what’s going on and get back to my mom. Dude. Even his own family if playing for MY side.

And then, to wrap things up, my mom told me, in these exact words, that she bought me a “pointy bra” … from the flea market. She thinks it’ll make my sari blouses fit better. Awesome. I buy bras so my nips don’t show, and my mom does the exact opposite, but still thinks I need a reduction. Ha! Love it 🙂

If my mom has her way, this is how I’ll look under the sari                                                               http://madonnafansworld.over-blog.com/article-vote-for-madonna-as-your-favorite-musical-bra-moment-66525239.html

I’ve gained some weight recently and for some reason I refuse to do anything about it. It’s not a lot, just about 5-8 lbs or so – which if I just got off my lazy ass and got back on my regular workout routine would probably melt away quickly.

But I don’t. I come home after work instead of going to the gym – I eat, eat some more, watch some tv and basically barely move. I wake up and go from my bed to my car to my desk to my car to my sofa to my bed. And I’m clearly not having any sex so there is NO exercise during any of that time. Fuck. It’s a miracle I’m not out of breath taking a shower.

The weight is distributed pretty normally for a girl, split between my tummy and my boobs, because my body thinks it’s high time I prep for carrying a baby and that’s where the weight needs to be. Every month I flush some good eggs down the toilet and hope it’s not all the smart ones that are escaping.

My boobs have gotten even bigger … and they are pretty big to start with. It’s annoying, because although the boys love it, my bras barely contain them and I don’t want to spend more money buying bras that fit because I’m about to go into the ‘specialty’ sizes and would have to order them. I refuse. So instead, I walk around with 4 boobs instead of 2 and readjust all day long.

I am all sorts of classy lately. No wonder my friends are surprised that hot guys like me.

 


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