I saw a sign that said, "Oprah says you should get a bra fitting." I tried to imagine Oprah lying awake at night thinking about my chest and maybe your chest and well I guess the collective chest of America. Doesn't Oprah have enough to worry about with her book club and t.v. show? Now she has to worry about whether my bra fits. And who is going to make sure my bra fits? Maybe she's bored and needs a career change. I'm trying to picture Oprah with a tape measure around her neck as I walk into the lingerie section at Target. . . Maybe she could sign a book or my cup. . . "snug as two bugs in a rug--Oprah." I don't even worry about whether my bra fits and to tell the truth, I've never, not once, thought about Oprah's bra. I mostly worry about things like cancer, the ocean (being lost in it), what I should do with my hair, what I want to be besides old when I get old, and how to lose weight without actually dieting and exercising.
As if you need to lose weight, duh. JAC, you are a dang good writer and I am officially "following" your blog. You have a fan!
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