Prosaic Poppy 2005-2006

Bathing Suit Inept

I am supposed to go to Cedar Point [again] in three weeks. However this time I will be staying an extra day in which to enjoy the fun and sun of Soak City as well. This poses a problem for me. This means that I will have to be seen publicly in a bathing suit. I don’t do bathing suits.

Somehow squishing my misshapen body into a small bit of cloth doesn’t appeal to me in the least. And the more cloth that you attach, the more obvious it is that you are trying to hide your wiggly parts. I have a lot of wiggly parts.

My solution is that I should exercise between now and then…maybe tone up a little bit. Drink more water, eat more fruit…take my vitamins. A lot can be done in 3 weeks. I know because I listen to those commercials.

Of course, I am disillusioning myself. I won’t exercise, nor will I eat healthier.

In fact I think I have just consumed 2 Hershey bars without even knowing. My mind says “no” my mouth has other ideas. I am certain that my body parts work and think independently and my brain has given up on the whole thing.

I honestly wish that they [whoever they are] would make a bathing suit that is actually flattering to a real human woman. Unlike the ones that they have out made for lollipop headed models [who to me, resemble the typical 1950’s depiction of men from Mars].

I’ve never had much luck with bathing suits…not even when I was skinny. If the bottoms fit, the top doesn’t and vice versa. And back when I was interested in wearing a bikini you weren’t allowed to mix and match the bottom and top to ensure a good fit, so that meant buying two suits. With the price of suits, why bother…then with a one piece, there is just never enough support…so after swimming for a while your top parts start to creep down, and underneath a bathing suit, it makes you look as though your top and bottom have somehow started to merge into one large gelatinous lump.

So yeah, I hate bathing suits. Making matters worse is that we will be going with friends who know me. Who I see on more than one occasion, therefore I am not looking forward to scarring their eyes with the image of me bouncing and jiggling as I frolic in the water like a walrus in a scuba suit.

You may think I am being too hard on myself however, I have a account of some of my bathing suit experiences to prove that it should be illegal for me to wear one:

Michigan 1988: Top fits perfectly, bottoms too big. Forgot to sit like a lady. The boys at the beach got quite a show.

Hawaii 1991: Running across beach to meet up with friends. Boobs bouncing up and down…not together, but s.e.p.a.r.a.t.e.l.y. When one was up the other was down. I think that they were running their own marathon. Trust me, people noticed.

Hawaii 1992: The wave rolled in. I rolled in. My bathing suit did not.

Okinawa 1996: My boobs decided to creep out the bottom of my bikini top in a mad attempt to escape their confines and make a statement of liberation.

My husband wonders why I wear a bra to bed...quite honestly it is because they have minds of their own, so I must keep them restrained at all times...even one taste of freedom and I am doomed.

I am sure that there are more wonderful moments of bathing suit fiascos; however I believe that my brain [working independently of course] has blocked them out. Thank goodness.

Perhaps I’ll just wear my dry suit to Soak City…of course; there is the problem of getting it on and off. Did I tell you about the time when I was training to be a boatman for white water rafting, and I put my dry suit on, but couldn’t get it back off again…

posted by Kassi Gilbert @ 12:44 PM