Today's accomplishment? I cleaned and organized my underwear drawer. (See, I think I'm getting the hang of blogging. Blogs are for announcements that you have absolutely no other venue for.) The exciting part about this is that I now own a whole bunch of new BitchBrand bras - pretty bras that actually fit me perfectly, in black, white, and nude. I owe this thrill to Bitch, Ph. D. because of her post last fall about how to buy a bra. For years I have tried buying bras at department stores and Queen's Mystery, but they never carry my size. So I always end up feeling like some kind of freak, all because I have breasts. Shouldn't bras be made for women who have breasts? You'd think so .... but no, mall stores are filled with bras padded with foam or rubber or all kinds of crap to make someone flat-chested look like she has breasts, which works fine for twelve-year-olds but not so great for anyone past puberty. Even my friends with small breasts prefer bras that don't look like they've been stuffed with handfuls of crumpled tissues. And I hate wearing a bra that doesn't fit exactly right, especially if I'm wearing a tight shirt.
So now that I've figured out that BitchBrand makes a bra that fits me exactly, I can just order a new bra from an internet site, without even leaving my desk. It's unbelievable how happy this makes me. What I'm waiting for now is for Bitch to write a post on where she buys bathing suits designed for women who actually have such things as hips and breasts.
When last semester began, I was scheduling medical tests to see whether or not I had breast cancer. I was worried about the tests -- my sister-in-law died of breast cancer three years ago so I know that it happens. But the tests were hopeful and five months later, I'm less worried; I have to go every couple of months to have CuteDoctor feel me up, but for now the lump in my breast seems to be harmless. The scare made me appreciate how much I value my ordinary, crowded, busy life - filled with raising kids and teaching students, reading and writing. Even grading papers is preferable to getting chemo. And so this semester begins on a hopeful note: I'm in good health, I haven't had any reason to cut off a breast, and I am never going to wear an ill-fitting bra again.