Tuesday, July 8, 2008

British Boobs

Where do we get our boobs from?  I got my eyes from my mum.  My hair from my mum.  My skin from my mum.  My hips from my mum.  My boobs from my ?

I just watched an episode of 'How to Look Good Naked' - that British show that makes women feel good in their own skin - and learned a fun fact:  British women have the biggest boobs in Europe.  

Ummm, I disagree.  Well, actually I don't.  British women do have the biggest boobs I have ever seen.  

Why do I bring up the British?  Because I am 100% Rule Britannia, Anglo-Saxon, white-skinned, bad teethed (I had braces though), tea loving British.  My mum was born there, as was her mum, and her mum.  My father's family hails from Scotland, like northern, have never seen the sun, Orkney Islands Scotland.  I have a British passport.  But what don't I have?  That's right!  Big boobs.  

I have teeny tiny, albeit perky, A-cups.  So if British women have the biggest breasts in Europe, then something happened on the boat over here.

Both my grandmothers had incredibly large breasts.  I mean BIG.  Long after my maternal grandmother's death, my cousins and I were perusing photographs of her together.  After one or two shots we all paused.  I said, "Okay, who's going to say it?"  My older cousin said, "Grandma had huge knockers".  That's right, huge.

The British side that still lives in England are big breasted - maybe it's in the water?

But me?  nothing.  So where do we get our breast size from?  What gene?  Where did I inherit them from?

I haven't outgrown my bras that I first got at 13.  For a long time I was upset about this; and even am a bit sensitive today.  But watching the end of this naked show where they are showing lots of older women's boobs, I am sort of happy mine are always going to stay in the same spot.

Rule Canada via Brittania!  It makes everything smaller.  Except my thighs.  Now that is unfair.

Tropical Vows

I have just returned from Cuba where I was bridesmaid #7 to a very good friend.  This was my first destination wedding and I must say:  It was AMAZING!!!!

Seven days in a tropical paradise with some of your greatest friends while meeting new friends and family, is pretty wicked.  I don't know if I would want to get married at a destination though.  It was awesome for us, who had the freedom to do as we wished and eat dinner with who ever we wanted.  I am not so sure I would want to be the bride or groom (well obviously not the groom, they don't get the dress).  

Not only are both sides of your family with you for an ENTIRE week in ONE resort, but you also have dozens of friends with you who ALL want to see you.  The pressure we put on this girl was beyond anything.  She doesn't live in Rainy City anymore, so of course the rain girls wanted her to play with us.  The Cowboy people wanted to see her (even though they can see her anytime!! Clearly this shows how cool she is), her family wanted to see her (they live in China, I understand the need), his family wanted to see her (they also live in Rainy City and LOVE her) - so this poor girl was unable to just BE.  Or maybe she was and it is me making this up.

Anyhoo, our trip to Cuba was fun times had by all.  Although it was stinking hot.  Here are my top five of the good and the bad:

Top Five things AGAINST having a tropical wedding:

1.  It is really really really hot, so all the groomsmen look like they have run through a high powered sprinkler.
2. It is really really really hot so that when the bridesmaids cry, their make-up runs and it looks like a stream running down their sweaty cheek (okay, this was me)
3.  It is really really really hot so that the bride is dying in her dress and her good girlfriends make her 'spread em' (don't worry, she was standing up) and fan her nether regions (I discovered this technique in Havana while sitting at a table, that fan works wonders)
4.  It is really really really hot so that when the men sit in their khakis and spread their legs and a bridesmaid happens to look down she notices a sweat mark where she has never seen one before
5.  It is really really really hot so that a bridesmaid falls asleep in a lounger by the beach while all her friends are still dancing

Top Five things FOR a Tropical wedding
1.  Ummm, the tropics
2.  Saying your vows on a beach with aqua blue water
3.  again, the tropics
4.  Having an excuse to walk down the aisle to Bob Marley
5.  Being so hot that it is okay to end the night in the pool and/or ocean

All in all, having all your best friends, family and family friends begging to spend time with you for a week, bonding with each other so much that when they get off the plane in Rainy City they are all sad to say good-bye, and having the time of your life in the tropics outweighs the ball sweat.  GO TROPICAL WEDDING!!!!

Congrats T & L!!

My Blonde Roots

Sometimes I find that my brain malfuntions - and it is highly embarrassing. Perhaps the problem is that my mouth works faster than my brain and I should just wait until it catches up.

The worst habit I have is saying the wrong words. And with this I realize I have turned into my mother. My mother often says things incorrect. For example she has called 'La Senza' 'La STenza' for years. I correct her but she has failed to learn. 

I am similar - except it isn't the same word. Okay okay, maybe there are some words. Like facade.  I always say it wrong.  I have to say it three times before I get it right.  

On our recent trip to Cuba I made several mistakes.  On the first night I popped my knee out of its socket and I did it on a stage in front of people.  The next day, as the Engineer rolled me past the stage in my wheelchair (yes readers, you heard correctly) I said: "Here we are at the site of the problem".  But bless the Engineer's heart; he can somehow understand me.  He knew that I meant,  "Here we are at the scene of the crime".  

The whole popping out the knee and inability to walk properly made me even more klutzy than usual.  When this was commented on I replied by saying, "Yes, I am really tricky".  Tricky!  How do I confuse that with klutzy?

At Christmas I call the last present the 'Piece de renance", so now the Engineer always says that phrase to make fun of me.  

I am a clever girl, just not good with words at times.  

The worst and most embarrassing example unfortunately highlighted the fact I had been skipping theatre history.  During my days of theatre school, I may have skipped the 10am theatre history class after nights of performing on stage.  I copied notes from my friend and showed up on a Friday.  At the time we were learning about Goethe.  Notice the spelling.  So I had tons of 'Goethe' in my notes and suddenly my teacher can't shut up about a dude named 'Gerta'.  After about a half hour of this confusion, I turn to my friend and asked her who the hell "GOETHE" was.  Dear God, no wonder my teacher hated me.  *note:  he hated all the BFA actors for some reason

Numbers make me even more confused, I need to learn to shut up before I open my mouth.  While walking the dog tonight (yes, the dog-lema has been solved), we walked past a beautiful house that was for sale.  I picked up the brochure and scanned for the price.  The cost of the house was a whopping $9 498 399!!!  I stopped, confused, and then said, "Is this house almost a billion dollars?"  The Engineer nearly peed himself laughing.

I need to keep my thoughts to myself.