Saturday, February 19, 2011

No Two Are Alike (Or Adventures in Boobs)

I recently went to be fitted for a new bra.  Perhaps my gentlemen readers (if, indeed, any made it past the first sentence) are not familiar with the bra fitting process, so I will explain.  The bra size is made up of a number (the band size) and a letter or letters (the cup size).

To find the band size, one measures at the top of the rib cage, just below the base of operations, so to speak.  To find the cup size, one measures across the landscape at its most extreme terrain.  Subtract the difference to determine cup size.

It might surprise some to learn that cup sizes work as follows: A, B, C, D, DD, DDD, E, F, G, etc.  At least that's how it worked where I went.  1 inch of difference is an A cup, two inches a B, etc.  I was measured.

A 38G.  Yes, my friends.  The woman looked me in the eye and had the audacity to tell me, "You need a 38G."  I had to pause as the wind blew back my hair and everything went to black and white for a moment.

Once my Russ Meyer moment had passed, I went to a dressing room, there to be met with a truly magnificent feat of structural engineering.  This thing was padded and wired like a Miss America contestant with braces.  I finally got it on and faced the reality:

I don't want my bra to fit if that's what it feels like.   A tight, constricting band around my ribs while vast tracts of land brush my chin?  No thank you.  I tried on a few more, just to make us all feel better, then selected the same style of bra I have worn for years, but with a larger band and smaller cup.  It fits fine.

I do admit, though, that I am tempted to buy the 38G as a prank.  It would also make a fine dual crash helmet for when we take the children to the race track.

Monday, February 14, 2011

Ch- ch- ch- ch- changes...

So I'm a vegetarian now.

(Some new statistics for the curious: I'm down 112 pounds from my top weight and 100 pounds from my weight on the day of surgery.  Once I lose two more pounds I will no longer be obese.  I bought a pair of skinny jeans from Old Navy this afternoon, and they weren't the biggest size in the store.  Or the second biggest.  My shirt size no longer contains any X's.  Back to the topic at hand.)

So I'm a vegetarian now.  When I went into this deal they told me I would need to eat meat.  A lot of meat.  Fish and chicken especially.  The timeline was supposed to go like this:

Day after surgery: clear liquids
Two days after-a week after: full liquids
A week after-two weeks after: soft foods
Two weeks after: start introducing real foods and go from there.

This did not work for me.  I am, essentially, still on clear liquids (thanks, Isopure!).  I eat no food during the day.  At night I try to eat something, but so far the only things that really go in and feel good are:

Edamame with peanut sauce
Horrible fattening terrible things that they promised me would make me sick.

I can eat raw vegetables.  I can eat mushrooms.  I can eat certain beans.  I can eat certain nuts (soy, cashew, and almond).  I can eat a little egg, a little cheese.

I can't eat chicken.  I can't eat beef.  I can't eat pork.  I can't eat fish.  Me, who used to be able to joyfully consume literal pounds of steak at one sitting!  I can't eat meat.

It's not so bad.  I can keep drinking this Isopure stuff.  It's kind of like Gatorade, if Gatorade had a slightly milky aftertaste.  I mix it with ice and water and, by the end of the day, consume 55 grams of pure protein that way (along with about a gallon of water).  I don't need to eat meat.  The edamame is fine.

If I squint, it looks like a pile of little green steaks.