The Life of a Southern Girl

I just figured out tonight how it is that I've been able to get to and from home so quickly during rush hour in a city that is #3 in the nation for gridlock. I've been traveling in the HOV (High Occupancy Vehicle) lanes. I've always known they existed. Didn't necessarily know which ones they were; but I'd heard rumors. When I was working nights; didn't matter which lane I was in. Now that I work days and am traveling with the masses; all of a sudden there's all these RULES. Two people in the car? THIS lane. Three people? THAT one. Poor unfortunate fucker traveling by yourself? Just stay right where you are and only move an inch every 3.5 minutes. Oh well. It was glorious while it lasted. Sadly, I am one of those people that get nervous if I'm not being law-abiding on the road. So I am now officially going to be in the "poor unfortunate fucker" lane. Downside to that is that I'm also one of those people who have absolutely no patience. I think that it may end up driving me to write bad country song lyrics. And I hate country music.

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I haven't talked about it here; but I managed to lose 20 lbs. this past summer that I did not need to lose. All because of a guy. And anyone that's suffered through reading my archives knows what that's all about. ANYWAY, I've been on a mission to get the weight back for a couple of months now. Since starting this new job; I've gained 5 pounds in three weeks. One of my co-workers today told me that it looked like I was getting my ass back. I made a mental note then to keep wearing the size 3's til I just can't anymore. I was kinda proud of my ass before I lost the weight; so that was a huge compliment. And please spare me all the sarcastic "Oh you poor thing. You lost weight. Must be terrible!" I normally eat whatever I want but have always had trouble gaining weight. High metabolism. And in as much as someone thinks they look bad in a bikini because they may be over-weight; noone really wants to see someone in a bikini with bones sticking out everywhere. Seriously. The "Heroin Chic" phase all the magazines went through in the mid-80's came & went in about 2 months. The worse part was losing weight in my boobs. And I didn't have that much to start with. I now know 7 ways to create cleavage where there is none. Most of which involve body-posturing & masking tape. No matter. My next big expense is a boob job. Even at my ideal weight (medically), I'm only an A. I aspire to be a C. And yes, I'm thinking I will be one of those girls that insist that you "Go ahead! Touch them! Don't they feel real??!!!". I will be so proud. What I'm saying is that I'll be insulted if you don't share the joy of my getting bigger boobs by feeling me up when I ask you to.

peace