Living with it

This week my main project at work, besides a blues poster, a spoken word event, a failure of a dog event, a couple of business cards, some logo identity projects, a couple of calls for art, and a cupcake fathers day flier was to bid out a 10 foot high roof top signage project. Narcissism might very well be the single most dominate feature in the down fall of america. Maybe not though, since i've never been out the country. (canada and bahamas don't count right?) So these letters are 10 feet high and the two words they spell will stretch some eighty feet 26 stories above the abandoned sky line some of us call downtown. Besides compromising the architectural integrity of this multi million dollar building their total cost will be more than i make on salary for the next 4 years.

Despite all this, in order to maintain my pay check to pay check style of living, I have no choice but to execute this project to the best of my abilities. Which as of late, i'm learning is not that well.

Other activities this week included a insane shopping spree at target. Thats right, i went nuts at a discount store. Raking up some 140 dollars worth of fresh under wear, pants and shorts. A bargain if you consider how much weight i've gained and how much more fabric I had to buy as a result. Fat people get better bargains if you measure clothing pound per pound.

This trip to target allotted me a week of fashion mishaps. And this reconstruction i'm carrying around played the star.

I was excited to find a crisp sage green sun dress for only 24.99! I tried it on the in the fitting room with my six other items. With my back turned away from the mirror i shimmed the dress over my head and once the dress was on I dropped the jeans to my ankles. Oh, how cute. sold.

Fast forward to tuesday afternoon where my signage shopping project got me a round trip all expenses paid trip to Arnold MO to tour a signage plant. Ok a morning not in the office, i'm in, I guess. Ok you're going to drive. fine. So naturally being the fashion guru I am, I woke up Tuesday morning, hung over, fuzzy eyed as usual, and make the decision to break in the green dress. No test runs here, lets see how this think operates.

Well as it turns out, on my drive in I discovered that the full coverage of the front was specifically when standing. Not bending, leaning, turning or moving. Ok. Well today i'll just stay as still as possible. I wore a, what do you call this thing, its like a the-need.... A sweater? Its a loose thing with tiny sleeves. I wore that on top. To ensure myself a false sense of security.

I put on my best business voice and attempted to charm the sales rep on the way there. I think it goes pretty well. I can chat. When i try. Really hard. So we arrive at the plant. Lots of hand shaking. I'm upright with my shoulders back. More hand shaking. Lots of men. There's maybe one chick in this place. Guess what she does. Hint, she was not welding. In the conference room I squash all outside ideas and keep my vision intact. Leaning over the table to point out key elements in the architectural elevations. Here and here. And its is 10.5 in. Made of steel.

The whole time. I'm aware that my "cleavage" might be visible. Rather I know you can see it every time I point to something. At least i can when i look down. Ahh cleavage, I don't mean the luscious space in between my ripe a full breasts. I mean the empty space between two hard silicon orbs that are surrounded by ill placed patched up skin. Skin that wrinkles and crinkles in all the wrong places. Skin that is marked with long visible dark scars. What a triumph to women. Hey there men of the trade, let me show you something. Let me teach you to never look down again. Keep your eyes on mine and the elevation. Look at this mock up I made in photoshop. Be horrified. Be quiet. Be obedient.

Despite this unexpected unveiling, I wore this dress 3 more times this week.
Come on! its St. Louis summer, how can i be asked to avoid sun dresses.
That meeting ended up with a tour of my gallery and free lunch in the west end. Be hold the power of commission!

So is this the end?

Showers take forever. I spend alot of time checking things out. Soaping them up and enjoying the general rockhard-ness of these very strange breasts that have been recreated for my personal piece of mind. Lotioning them in the mirror, nursing the tips of the nips with bactroban, more lotion. They almost look hot, in the dark, when shiny. Further proving the everything looks better shiny theory. I'm very slowly starting to incorporate them back into my intimate life. Add like ten more "very's". Which is strange because for all practical purposes, they really have no feeling, but there still is something grounded in being a women that makes you long for the act. A comforting feeling.

I'm reminded of the skull on the mantel outside the Red Bull's lair entrance. You know through the grandfather clock? Ok, childhood film reference. The skull was a skull and bones, with no tongue to taste. However when he drank the flask of water that he thought was wine, his cheeks burned the pink warmth of a drunken memory.
The skull made the trail, for a fraction of a second. Here's the Trailer I own this on dvd. I might watch it tonight.

Too bad that cartoon/book's popularity was before the dawn of the Red Bull Energy Drink, there was some real potential for cross branding.

A couple more trips to the doctor for check ups. Actually I think the only reason I have to see them again is so they can take a photo for their boob binder. But I guess they deserve that much. No more surgeries. A few more invoices from the surgery centers. But as of now we officially can say the process is complete.

I have many unanswered questions. Like what now. How do you maintain yearly screenings when they can no longer do the regular mammograms. MRI I suppose. The chances of me running to the doctor for one of those is slim. The chances of the oncologist calling me to pressure a follow up appointment, also very slim. They've been non existent since the first round of surgery. And I suppose its now my responsibility. However, I fear there will have to be some sort of catastrophe for me to willingly return to a hospital.
Other random questions:
What if I get in an car accident and a large shard of glass punctures my implants?
What if i gain two hundred lbs, can you imagine how silly that would look?
Can I get these nipps pierced? I don't see why not.
And tattoos.. i wonder how deep the needles go. And how thin the skin is.
And when are these scars going to fade. and whats with this rash. and why does it feel like i'm getting poked with pins from time to time.

one of the strangest things

This most recent surgery is really too bizarre to share. The process itself is mind blowing. The words defining the situation are embarrassing. Fake nipples. Its nearly funny if it weren't burdened with the trouble of truth and necessity. The most memorable or notable detail of this particular operation is the bandages. Once you remove all the padding and stuffing of the first day, you're left with two yellow mounds of gauze. Take one of these lemon butter cookies, sew them to your skin, smash, repeat. Sprinkle with touches of frankenstein. And that's pretty much what I'm working with right now. The "cookies" stick out really far, show through my bulky green hoody, and smell slightly tainted.

More disturbing this week than body part duplication, was a message from my sister on facebook. Because of my issues, she went ahead and got a mammogram, they now want her to come back in for more testing. sick.

icing?

Finally another visit to the plastic surgeons office, might actually get this thing rolling and finish up this "process" in the next two months. Some amendments to the second surgery are needed. And all seem feasible. A little extra skin can be removed here, a scar can be flatted out there. And with skin from my ever expanding mid section new areola can be constructed. See diagram. My doctor refers to this procedure as the icing on the cake.

I originally imagined this procedure to be similar to the score and slick process of pottery. Turns out its a bit different. but similar. Raw skin is applied to raw skin. Now I think of skin like those flaky breakfast biscuits. The ones you can peel off one layer at a time. So the process as I gathered in the conversation with the doctor goes something like this: two circles are cut out of your hips; the lower portion of the body has darker skin that the top, thus allowing for the difference in skin tone. Then, a circular layer of skin is removed from the mound of flesh covering the implant. This skin is used to form the actual raised nipple. Then the circle from the hip is placed over the top of the bump. Gauze for 5 days, unveil, and some ointment application, two weeks later, bam, fake nipples.

Then there is the question of nipple preference. If you had the choice would you want nipples that never got hard? or nipples that were always hard. I honestly have no clue. I'm sure whichever option i go with, I will be dissatisfied and regretful.

I'm hoping that this final surgery will be the tipping point to end this post operative depression. Its really getting out of hand. The anxiety of simple day to day activities is rendering me more or less non-functional. So for the moment, I have one goal that I believe might bestow some sort of happiness back in myself. Loosing the weight gained during this past six months. Its difficult to tell what is really the source of my problems. One, the lack of breasts with nipples, or two the emerging belly that is now protruding well beyond the mark of past breasts. Completely robbing me of any sense of womanhood.

So in response to this annoying consequence I am signed up for caloriecount.com. Eating less than 1500 calories per day. Although I don't expect to reach my goal until mid summer. And in order to really succeed, you have to be strict, every day all the time. No beers every evening, no bagels for breakfast. Spinach salads and carrots and Yoplait. Every day every minute you have to restrain and think hard to make the right choices. To accelerate my success, am seeking a new gym membership. I got on the internet and started downloading all the free passes I could find. Determined to research and make an educated decision. For various reasons gyms have not worked for me in the past. My choice is now between two gyms. One Club Fitness, close enough to my house or to where ever i might move. 19.95 a month. Various classes I will probably have too much social anxiety to attend. Negatives: I've been a member of club fitness before, I tend never to go back to boyfriends or gyms, this ones also in the same location as New Lady Fitness, a gym I also was once a member. And Fitness Club St. Louis or something like that, a few more blocks from my current location, but free tanning (that I probably shouldn't use), 24 hour access, cycling and yoga classes I probably will never attend. Added bonus to this location: firemen, lots of them. Negatives: really bad murals everywhere, little parking, sort of jank, but in a kind of cool underground way. Tried the new YMCA in Carondelet, saw a naked pregnant lady and two naked old people, plus you have to sign up for the machines, which is a huge source of annoyance for me, plus its 46 dollars, and I really realistically won't use the pool. I have another week to make a decision.

Gym/fitness "dating" history:
1. college rec center; great gym! went all the time,
2. bally total fitnes; worked the front desk, free membership, rarely used.
3. YMCA west county; tried swimming, I suck it, and don't like to get all wet everyday in the winter.
4. New Lady fitness, did a lot of aerobic classes, no dudes tons of fat chicks, weird dynamic, went out of business.
5. Shark fitness bootcamp: great, really hard, went with friends from work, was a size 4 at the end, not a realistic commitment at the moment.
6. Club Fitness, during my time here, i was also doing a lot of biking, lost tons of weight, different time in my life.
7. The boxing gym, seems like I gained more weight while taking boxing classes, good work out but not enough cardio machines.
8. St. Louis Workout, was close to work, then i got suspended, ran out of money and canceled, having the gym close to work is nice for working out at lunch, but when you work out at lunch you can only do 30 minutes, and really, I need to be there about 1.5 hours to see results.

Jesus, I'm like a gym membershipaholic.

here i come number 9.