Storm in a F Cup

So.  Large breasts.  Some men love them, some women want them, but to have them, I guarantee is a different thing.

I started to get breasts at the age of ten.  At that time it was a thrill.  Everyone wanted some too, it was the topic of endless discussion, made me feel special in a way, especially because before I wasn’t one of the “popular” kids.  Trouble is, they kept growing.

These days I am a FF cup.  Nearly every woman I encounter who brings them up, including friends, always have the same comments.  “I’ll swop you” “You are so lucky!” “I’d like to have them, just for one day”

Don’t misunderstand me, in some respects, I do like them.  But more often that not, they are a hindrance that I could do without.

If you have larger breasts, you have to have a confidence about you.  I don’t particularly, but I can fake it well.  They come up regularly in conversations, so much so that it gets extremely irritating.  They grew, they are there, they are really so not interesting to have conversations about them.

You get used to people talking to your breasts inside of looking at your eyes.  Clothes are a problem too.  You have to wear a v neck or a round neck in order to make sure they don’t look bigger, but with the majority of clothes, I end up showing more cleavage than I actually want to which attracts more attention than I want.

The thing however that irritates me more than anything is the touching thing.  When you have large breasts, they somehow appear to be public property.  The amount of times I have been out, in a bar or a club and a man has had a comment about the size, and then copped a feel.  Every single one (after a slap or a few heated words) seem to think that they have done nothing wrong.

The other view people tend to have of you is, although to be fair this only comes from the sleazy type of man, that you are automatically easy because of your big breasts.  I’m not by the way.

They say you have to own what you have and make the best of it.  So that’s what I do.  Just wanted to give the perspective of a girl with a lot up top.

Baby, Baby, Baby Noooo!

Question.  What is it about people when they have a baby.  The most normal person in the world suddenly turns into this baby obsessed, all they can talk about person.  Like they have just given birth to Christ or something.

 

Don’t get me wrong, I have lots of friends who didn’t turn into crazy people when they had a baby.  To be fair, they were crazy anyway, being my friends, but in a good way.

 

When a friend tells me they are pregnant, after the mandatory congratulations etc (am not a baby person myself, never want one but am not evil, I can be nice and say congrats) what I don’t tell them is that they are put on probation for social networking.

 

For the purpose of the blog, I will use Facebook as the social network of choice.

 

Things that are Allowed

• Telling people you are pregnant – it’s interesting, people will want to know and congratulate you.
• Scan photo – not something I am interested in at all, but ok, some may like it.
• Occasional pregnancy updates.  Please note this does not include tales of throwing up, heartburn or      anything gross.
• The first baby picture. 
• Afterwards, occasional, and by that I mean one every month, pictures of baby.

Things That Fuck Me Right Off

• Creating a Facebook page for the baby, including when it is still inside you.  It is wrong, it is stupid and if it sends me a friend request…. DENIED!!!
• Constant updates regarding how you are doing, particularly relating to morning sickness, sex life (yes I have seen pregnancy sex life updates) etc.  I DO NOT WANT TO KNOW.
• Once the baby is born, photos every other day.  Yes your baby is cute (hopefully).  No I don’t want to see it every day.  It’s a baby, WE HAVE ALL SEEN ONE BEFORE!
• Daily update reports.  Baby has smiled, giggled, had a baby massage etc.....

By the way, what the fuck is baby massage??  People have been having babies for thousands of years.  I have yet to meet a baby that said “Hey, you know what I would like?  A nice massage!”. 

 

I am probably coming across as the anti-christ of babies, which I am not.  I’m happy if you have had a baby,  I respect your choice to have one and appreciate how much you will love it.

 

The thing is, I don’t love it, I don’t want to see it every day and I couldn’t give a rats ass what it does until:

 

a)  It starts speaking and;
b) Actually, that's about it.