This Saturday, I am going to be the "Best Lady" in my friend, Debbie's wedding.
The last time I was an attendant in a wedding, I was nineteen.
My body has changed a lot since then...and NOT for the better.
When I was nineteen, I wore a size 8.
My "girls" used to hang out comfortably in the northern hemisphere.
And, back then, I thought cellulite was an urban myth.
Now that I'm thirty-nine, I'm pretty sure it would take a loaded handgun to the skull to get me to publicly divulge my size.
As for my "girls?" Well, damn it! They are heading south like senior citizens to Miami.
And the cellulite myth? All I have to say about that is why the hell didn't anybody warn me? Seriously! Dimples on a babies butt? CUTE. Dimples on my butt? Get me a barf bag.
You're probably wondering what triggered this body image rant?
It actually stemmed from a conversation that I had with my husband about Saturday's wedding. It went like this:
Hubby: Do I have to wear a tie to the wedding?
Me: Yes, you have to wear a tie to the wedding.
Hubby: UHHH!!!(pouting sound) Why?
Me: Because it looks nice.
Hubby: I hate wearing ties. They're too confining.
Me: Oh, really! *insert crazed look here* Too confining, huh? Well, in order for me to look NICE at the wedding, I'm wearing a DAMN BODY SAUSAGE under my dress. You wanna trade????
Hubby: (put off by crazed look in my eyes) I'll wear a tie.
Me: Thank you.
Hubby: Your welcome.
Moral of the Story: Never mess with a woman wearing a sausage casing. The lack of oxygen to her lungs will make her vicious.