I started taking the pill again recently. Not the pill really, the patch. I mean it does the same thing the pill does, only in handy adhesive form. The patch makes me sort of a bitch. It also makes me tearful, apparently, & fat. On Friday evening getting ready for dinner I was standing in my closet (a walk-in, yes, tho not as deluxe as it sounds) looking for a pair of jeans to wear. I have 3 pairs of expensive jeans that are rather too small for me but I saw them on sale at hundreds of dollars off so I bought them anyway. One pair of Wranglers designed by Wendy of Built By Wendy. One pair of Yanuk's from the Barney's Warehouse sale. & one pair of Seven jeans that haven't really fit properly since the day I bought them, because I was recovering from the flu & hadn't eaten in 3 days. I didn't bother even trying that last pair because they're entirely hopeless unless it's the day after a huge coke binge & I ingested 8 bottles of water but nary a crumb of solid food.
Anyway. I tried on the Yanuks first, which are slightly smaller than the Wranglers, & they wouldn't zip up. What usually happens is they button & zip but things are bulging out all wrong so I don't end up wearing them. But this time the zipper wouldn't budge past half-mast. It wasn't like I couldn't wear them because they looked bad. I just couldn't wear them. I was starting to hyperventilate a bit & I was forcing myself to calm my breathing & I went for the Wranglers.
They. Also. Wouldn't. Zip. At that point I was just standing in my closet openly crying. The bitchiness I could handle. The crying jags were A-OK. The elevated risk of blood clots from smoking, while worrying, was something I could certainly live with (tho I'm not sure if "live with" is the right turn of phrase). But weight gain? It was like my life had spun out of control.
Well, I say all this to say that I would probably have ripped the cursed patch right off my butt cheek sometime in the next few days if I hadn't suddenly walked into a Victoria's Secret during their Semi-Annual Sale(TM). Victoria's Secret got on my bad side a year or two ago when I went in looking for a bra & discovered they don't carry A cups in their stores anymore. You can still order the daintiest size from the catalog or online, but -- & I'm blaming this on how fat Americans keep getting -- A's are nowhere to be found even at the giant multi-level megastore at Herald Square.
But it was the big VS SAS(TM) event & bras weren't nearly as over-priced as they usually are, & it only happens, you know, semi-annually, so I had to try. & I'm very happy to report that I tried on one hot pink little number & a garish looking purple lacy thing & they both
fit! There was no extra material pooching out where cleavage was meant to be. There was no cleavage, either, but there was no extra material. They were ugly bras & I didn't buy them, but they
fit.
All the same. I'd rather be skinny than have boobs. I think. The end.
