Art Installation and An Empty Drawer

According to my plastic surgeon, I'm never going to have to wear a bra again.  Although it's against dress code policy at the office, I'm going to hold him to his word.

So, that leaves me with a bunch of old bras.  Any suggestions on what I should do with them?  I'm thinking some kind of wind chime art installation.  Maybe cast them in something hard, paint them bright colors and hang them from the trees around the property.  Maybe fashion them into some kind of primitive varmint hunting weapon.

Again, I'm totally open for suggestions.

And then the empty drawer....

What should I put in the drawer that once held all of my "nearly B cup" bras?  

Dark chocolate?
Sexy negligees?
My pistol?
Loan amortization schedules?

Again, totally open for suggestions.

And a wave of feminine force washed over the land...

And they appeared on the horizon and emerged from their Odyssey and MDX chariots.  They were dressed in their warrior wears, with their spiky heels and tall boots.  They wore their armored Spanx and skinny jeans. Displayed around their necks, wrists and ears were the spoils of distant lands.  Their visages fully adorned with the paint indicative of their tribe...the blood red lips and dark outlined eyes.  This tribe of women moved forward toward the threat.  This was a battle for which they were prepared.  They would conquer the threat as a combined force, not allowing their fallen sister to struggle alone.  No compromise would be allowed and negotiations would not be entertained.

This was WAR.  

The enemy would be defeated.

As their fallen sister watched from behind enemy lines the imposing force of feminine might and power, she found her own strength growing.  Much depended on the victory.  The legacy of future warrior women and combined sisterhood force would not be threatened nor jeopardized.  Failure would not be an option.

And so she rose.  

She rose to her full height with her tall boots and big girl panties.  She rose with bowed breast and chin held high.  She rose to meet her sisters.  The battle had begun and she was ready for the fight.

Victory was at hand.


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For some reason, this was the image that kept coming to mind during our girls' night out.  It's fantastical, but I could believe it.  The women that had gathered were not merely joining me for a night out of drink, food and laughter, but they were displaying their loyalty, support and combined force.  A force that is needed to conquer life's challenges.

Thank you to all for the support and friendship throughout the years.  I know I don't say it enough, but I appreciate everyone of you and am so thankful to call you my friends.

And We Will Bid Them Farewell....In Style!

Tall boots: check
Sassy, low cut dress: check
Ultra fab tuxedo jacket: check
Designated driver: check

That's right, we're throwing the ladies a bit of a soirée.  Why not?!  If I'm going to have to go through all of this, why not throw a few fun memories in there as well.

I'm looking forward to a GNO.  We will laugh, make inappropriate jokes about my breasts, speculate about the size of the replacements and let our hair down!  Thank goodness we have the private dining room.....whew.

A tout a l'heure aux tatas.  

My Noggin Is Achin'

My surgery date is getting closer and I feel as if I'm running out of time.  There is a part of me that wishes I wouldn't have had this much time to plan.  I've been trying to think of all the things that I'm going to need while recuperating.  I want everything clean and tidy.  I want everything organized and ready for transition at the office.  The difficult thing is that I don't know what to expect.  I've talked with other survivors about their recovery, but everyone is different.  I'm hoping for a smooth speedy recovery, but the risks are there, even if they are slight.

Again, probably too much thinking.

I am ready to give my mind a rest.  I didn't account for the emotional and mental drain this diagnosis would bring.  If I just think about the breast health issue, I'm ok.  If I just think about work and the stressors there, I'm ok.  Switching back and forth constantly is wearing me out.  Talking to people about my diagnosis is wearing me out.  In my job I flex to the personalities and needs of over 150 clients.  I'm constantly listening for cues, trying to think forward to issues and potential conflicts and circumvent them.  I'm trying to manage the relationships, both internal and external.  When people ask me about my health issue, I am analyzing their reaction, trying to remember their personal history and structuring the conversation so as to facilitate the least possible drama.  I don't do drama.  All of this is wearing out the ole noggin.

So, if anything, I'm looking forward to a forced unplugging.  I will watch mindless TV and cable mini-series for hours on end and read slightly raunchy historical fiction.  I will make my own soda and drink espressos and eat my weight in casseroles and lasagna.  I will think of my own sensitivities and cater to them.  I will do things for me and think about me and my health and my recovery.  I will recharge.  And I will get bored.  I'll get bored and will be reminded why I do the things I do.  Too much idle thinking is not a good look for EBJ.  I need problems.  I need challenges.  I'm a Virgo and a fixer.

Now, off to save the world....but first, a shower.