I remember asking my mom if I could get a bra, knowing very well it was not necessary and only because all my friends actually needed them. Most young girls are probably embarrassed to ask because they’re weirded out by their new body; I was embarrassed because I didn’t want to get called out on my want for breasts.
Eventually I was able to comfortably fill an Almost A-Cup from JCPenney’s. Since a boob job is unacceptable and unattainable to a 14 year old, I had a plan: gain a bunch of weight, get really fat – then I’ll have boobs.
When I got pregnant one thing I was looking forward to, obviously, was having some real woman tits. I’d waited 22 years for this moment. They will produce milk and grow because that’s what happens to everyone… right?
It does not happen to everyone. It ended up on a list of concerns to talk to the doctor about, not because I thought it was a health concern or affecting my baby, I just felt gypped. For Christ’s sake, I just want to know what it’s like to have cleavage.
Some women do not produce the majority of their breast milk until they’ve given birth. Don’t worry. -My Doctor.
I ended up formula feeding… with a flat chest.
Nowadays, I’m mostly concerned with finding clothes that fit my confused body. I’m not picky – I just want my attire to accommodate me. Just because I lack upstairs doesn’t mean my ass is flat or my hips are nonexistent. I need a dress created that fits as a medium on top and a large on the bottom. Maybe a whole store can be established called, Flat & Wide. Don’t get me wrong, I’m not complaining about my lower half, I’m perfectly content having an ample hindquarters.
Someday I’ll get a boob job, bucket list item #11. Until then, I’ll keep falsely advertising with my padded bras and trick everyone into thinking I’m a solid B cup.
Finally getting around to writing out everything my overzealous heart and ridiculous mind wants to do before my time is up.
- Hop a fence gracefully.
- Complete one successful cartwheel.
- Have my palm read.
- Take my kid to see the ocean.
- Send a letter to a random address, self addressed stamped envelope included – should they care to reply.
- Live in a tiny house and try out as much self sufficiency as possible.
- Have a
dinner wine and dance party with Mindy Kahling, Taylor Swift and Heidi Klum. [just wine is fine also.]
- See, experience and fall in love with Australia.
- Find some people who know what they’re doing and go ghost hunting.
- Get a boob job.
- Donate my hair.
- Visit New York
- Attend, participate and give my uneducated opinion at a wine tasting.
- Go to Paris, eat crepes and see the Eiffel Tower (ideally, simultaneously).
- Fly first class, ask for warm towel and proceed the way Adam Sandler does in The Wedding Singer.
- Pull an all-nighter in Vegas.
- Self Publish a book (or 24).
- Attend the BlogU Conference.
- Cliff Diving… more than once.
- Do that road trip where you stop in each state that’s been shared on Facebook 1,303 times.
- Attend an NFL Superbowl.
- Learn another language.
- Shoot a gun…in a 100% controlled environment – where I cannot accidentally kill anyone.
- Make-out under a waterfall – only so I can prove to myself that it’s not as glamorous as it looks…but it might be.
- Do yoga – consistently for a month.
- See Taylor Swift in concert… and act like a start struck 13 year old girl screaming all the lyrics.
- 5k followers reading my words here on Properly Ridiculous.
- Zip Line.
- Ride on the Superman Rollercoaster at Six Flags.
- Renew my wedding vows and have a massive party afterwards.
- See the Northern Lights.
- Take a creative writing class.
- Meet Kanye West and act like I have no idea who he is.
- Own a fancy camera and take a photography class.
- Get on the Jumbotron at any sporting event… hopefully while I’m not paying attention and notice at the last second.
- Play on a softball league.
- Buy a strangers meal at a restaurant.
- Write to a congressman about something I feel passionately about and pretend it will make a difference.
- Christmas Caroling to spread cheer…and enjoy watching the people awkwardly stand and watch us sing off key – who’s with me?
- Name a star (something totally asinine).
- Watch the sun rise & set on the same day.
- Attend a same-sex wedding.
- Pen a thank you letter to a company who treated me well.
- Enter some sort of art into an exhibit or competition.
- Attend a murder mystery dinner party. Ya know, the ones where you find out who the killer is and hope to survive…or something like that.
- Attend a poetry reading – slam poetry preferably.
- Bet money on the horse with the most ridiculous name – odds of winning are not a factor.
- Go to a movie by myself.
- Go to a legit wax figure museum and pose inappropriately with at least 5 figures.
- See a Cirque du Soleil Show.
- Take an improv class.
- Give acupuncture a try…once.
- Get fitted for a bra by a professional.
- Have a paid conversation with a psychic.
- Be 100% debt free.
- Take an all-inclusive vacation.
- Eat a meal prepared by a Gordon Ramsey.
- Have a [not overly fancy, but legit] wine collection.
- Give a server a 100% tip.
- End up on the New York Times Best Sellers list.
- Finish a crossword puzzle in one sitting.
- Join a book club.
- Run an 8 minute mile.
- Drive a Zamboni – or just riding on one will suffice.
- Go an entire month without wasting any food.
- Ride a jet ski.
- Leave a note inside of a library book.
- Feel comfortable skinny dipping.
- Ride a snowmobile.
- Get T-Swift to acknowledge my existence on social media.
- Go one week with no sugar of any kind.
- Ride a Segway.
- Stay at a bed & breakfast.
- Walk across Abbey Road in London.
- Get retweeted by a celebrity of sorts.
- Swim with a dolphin – but just one. More than one might make me anxious.
- Serve on Jury Duty.
- Crash a wedding.
- Experience the craziness that is, Mardi Gras.
- See the Grand Canyon.
- See Adele live, and cry the whole time because 1.) I’m so excited and, 2.) Pretty sure that’s what everyone does at an Adele concert.
- Write a children’s book with my son.
Enjoy yourself. It’s later than you think.”
By the way, yes…I am aware Taylor Swift was mentioned more than once within my bucket list. No, I am not ashamed.