Nothing aggravates me like my husband telling me that I am a night owl. I have no idea why this annoys me, but it sets me off and I strenuously deny his otherwise innocuous observation. Tonight I had to laugh as I have gotten more done since the sun went down than I have all day. Of course, I can't tell him he is right - but maybe I won't show teeth next time he says so.
So it is late and I am now working on my water intake and watching Dr. 90210. The very idea that women pay to have breast augmentation is fascinating to me, almost laughable. Tonight, the patient is so thin that Dr. Rey is not sure that he can get the implants in through her abdominal wall and is confident that he cannot pass them through the areola. There has to be some way to hook me up to a machine and pass what I have over to those in "need". Seriously, I am willing to give up my "girls" to the unfortunate soul who has "front" tattooed on her forehead!
So as much as I complain about my weight now, I used to have trouble keeping enough weight on to keep me out of an eating disorder facility or so my mother would threaten. But I still had the "girls". In fact, I was in high school in the late eighties, so I was big hair and big boobs. God Bless the hair bands. Oh, and reality television in small doses!
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