Whose body is it anyway?

I was cleaning yesterday. My computer that is... looking for a letter I wrote a year or so ago (unsuccessfully... grrr) and in the meantime, digging through and moving and organizing some of the files that had gotten grouped into "back-up" directories due to migrating them from another computer and/or the old crashed hard drive.

I found all sorts of good shit. Some stupid stuff that probably didn't need to be saved in the first place, let alone migrated to a different computer's brain. And then stuff like... oh... like that breast test.

You know the one... it's a spreadsheet and you type in "real" or "fake" for 20 sets of tits, and find out that you really don't know shit when it comes to telling who has fake tits.

Don't worry, you're not alone. I've even been accused of having fake tits a time or two. Made me laugh too. I mean... who would pay that much money for A-cups?

A few really smart women go for B's... they know that their bodies aren't really built for boobs bigger than their asses, and they're smart enough not have to compensate for a lack of matter elsewhere. Ok, that wasn't nice, but sometimes it's true... some women have bought into the "bigger is better" mentality far too much.

I have a friend who has implants. You hardly could tell it. Even naked. I asked her once to be sure... I couldn't tell but they are so perfect looking that I wondered, and she admitted it.

I didn't ask her because it mattered... I asked her because my hubby was pressuring me to look into implants. In fact, he even made me an appointment with a doctor... just to talk about it and ask some questions.

Pissed me off bigtime. He thought I was being illogical. So after thinking about it longer... it pissed me off even more. I finally refused to go. I told him that I may have wished bigger for bigger boobs, but I liked the shape and feel of mine too well to risk messing them up. And I could think of far more fun ways to spend that much money.

He bought me a gift certificate once, to talk to the doctor about liposuction. I guess he learned from the boob job fiasco and decided to let me make my own appointment. I waited a long time but I did talk to the doctor. Get this... five-frickin'-thousand dollars to suck out a little flab from a tummy. I wanna go on a cruise. If I ever get the money and convince the hubby to take one, my flab can go along, thank you very much. Sounds like way more fun.

Yeah, he's a bit controlling.

Stop laughing. I was being subtle. I am finally learning, after dealing with years and years of this sort of thing, that this is NOT normal behavior that most women would smilingly accept and go along with. However, I've lived with it for so long that I have trouble recognizing when I'm being unreasonable and overly sensitive, and when he's just being an ass.

Like Sunday.

I was planning to ride horse in a parade with the daughter. It was hot... it's July. But you don't wanna wear shorts to ride horse for long. Can you say saddle burn? OUCH. So he asked me what I'm planning to wear, and I held up a pair of thin-striped blue & white very fitted capris. I figured they'd be cooler than jeans, while still protecting the legs from the saddle. And they wouldn't have the "plumber's butt" side effect of my denim capris (yeah, I know they're kind of low.)

His comment? "No, those aren't very flattering on you."

I don't remember asking his opinion. In fact, I'm positive that I didn't ask. So I feel totally justified at getting mad about him offering one. The damn horses don't care what I wear when I sit on them, thank you very much.

Yeah, I do live with this all the time. Thanks for caring.