Awkward?

"kate, you flirt with everyone so much. why did you work at a pizza place? you shoulda worked at Hooters." JR says to me. I point to my chest.

"Can't."

"There you go. insulting yourself again! You have to stop!" JR groans. I laugh. I'm didn't insult myself. I just stated a fact.

I quite familiar now with the fact that I have small breasts. A 36, to be exact, and they won't be changing anytime soon. Apparently, this is quite a blow to my level of attractiveness. Apparently, I'm beautiful across the board, but i am majorly and terribly lacking in the cleavage area. My unendowed chest is a major reason for my unsexiness.

I come from a family of flat women. My mother, in a rare moment of feminine insecurity, told me when she was a newlywed she cried upon hearing that her husband's youthful idols had been Bridgette Bardot and Raquel Welch. Curvy as they were, my slim straight mother was sad thinking she couldn't provide the sexual pleasure her husband was interested in.

i've gone through various stages of sadness about all this. One of my friends is a DD, and I've gone bathing suit shopping with her. There's no way I'd want that more. I've always thought if I just had a little more, I'd be perfectly happy.

Interesting that I'd care at all. These things kind of sink into you after having them commented on day after day after day. It gets in your head. Enough "its okay, Kate, at least your face is pretty." seems like it should have lodged dissatisfaction in my head. But I'm all right, really.

I can dance uninhibited. And if I did have a chest to speak of, I'd probably be scared to even go out in public, guys ogle so much the thin way I am.

But most of all, they say Brandon Flowers and Johnny Depp go for the skinny girls. Those are the only guys that matter, anyways.