Booo(.)(.)ooobs

The greatest news I ever heard was when guys started saying that they preferred a great booty over a great rack. "Thank god," I thought to myself, as I looked down and saw straight to my bellybutton.

Now, as a girl who is almost 25 years old and barely a 34A cup, I reached puberty in a time when everything was about the boob. I thought that the way to be cool was to have your tits pushed up so far they reached your ears, and I had convinced myself that when I was old enough I would get a boob job (of course, this would all be after I got my giant Russian nose cut down to a normal human size). However, I was only 12 years old at the time and after realizing that I was the only 7th grader who wasn't wearing a bra yet, I decided it would be a great and TOTALLY INCONSPICUOUS idea if I showed up one day wearing a padded bra that made me roughly a C-cup. So I did. All through junior high and high school I wore padded bras that made me look ridiculous because the rest of my body was built like an 8 year old boy, with the exception of, like my nose, my giant Russian ass and lovely size 10 feet that I had been forced to rock since I was 9 years old. Basically, if I stood sideways, I looked like a Picasso that Pablo himself looked at and was like, "What the hell?", before throwing it out.

When I got my first boyfriend the summer after 11th grade, my mom looked at me and said, "Alexis, if you keep wearing those padded bras, boys are going to be in for quite the shock if they ever try to stick their hand up there."

It was the only piece of advice that my mother has ever given me that has actually had a positive impact on my life.

The next day I stashed my padded bra in the back of my drawer and nervously clasped on one with nothing more than a cup thick enough to hide any slight nipplage. That night, a boy felt my boobs for the first time and there were no screams of shock or looks of confusion.

Success.

Now, it still took me awhile to fall in love with my little girls. A lot of my closest friends have large, fabulous, amazing boobs, and I always felt completely un-sexy when I was around them. But over the years I have realized that for me personally, my fun bags are freakin amazing. Seriously, I love my boobs. I love that I can lay on my stomach or cross my arms without them getting in the way. When I go bathing suit shopping, there is always a ton of bikini tops in my size because the majority of girls with my chest size are still shopping at Gap Kids. Don't get me wrong, on certain days I wish I could get some awesome cleavage or if I'm feeling bloated I sure could use bigger boobs to make my waist and stomach look smaller in comparison. But this is the body I was given and I'm cool with that. (I never did end up getting the boob and nose job).

Ok, so we've got the T down, let's move onto the A. Like I said before, when I heard that asses were catching up and possibly even surpassing boobs on the popularity scale, I was ecstatic. This is going to sound really weird, but I inherited my father's backside. My mother and I have absolutely nothing in common when it comes to physical traits; I am 100% built like the paternal side of my family. This has both its advantages and disadvantages because, like I said before, we basically go straight down with the exception of our nose, butts, and feet.

It used to be annoying when I realized that on the rare occasion that I wore a dress or a skirt, I always had to wear flat shoes or very short heels because my ass was so big that it would push out the back of the dress so much that it was about 4 inches shorter than the front. It wasn't a good look. But then, one magical night in June, a week after I graduated high school, I was spending some time with a guy that would soon become my second-ever boyfriend. We were going bowling and as I walked up to the lane, fully intending on accepting what was sure to be a gutter ball, I heard him say, "You have a great ass."

And that was the beginning of realizing that if I wasn't blessed with junk in the front, I could sure as hell work my junk in the trunk.

When I first started writing this entry, my intention was to explain the pros and cons of dressing slutty while out trolling for boys. But, (Butt! Haha?) I somehow ended up going on a long tangent about my own personal body issues, so I apologize if this was one of my more boring posts. I promise next week I'll write about the whole dressing-like-a-tramp thing. In the meantime, I encourage everyone to go out and grab a boob or a handful of ass today, whether it's your own or someone else's :)