This title is sort of true. I have known all along that my parents never wanted me to be happy and have been slowly but surely weaning any possibility of me ever a) getting laid or b) finding a boyfriend who will eventually lay me out of my life since before I came out of the womb... but the extent they went to surprises me to this day, because even though I moved out of their house more than 2 years ago, their actions are still affecting me.
What am I talking about you may ask?
Its a long story. I'll start at the beginning.
In the beginning God created Adam. Adam wanted Eve and he wanted her to have boobs. God, loving Adam very much and spoiling him with things like everything gave him Eve. And he gave her Boobs. I am descended from that lady with boobs and I too have boobs.
They are big. Sometimes too big. I may have mentioned them getting in the way of important life tasks such as reaching under my bed and squeezing through tight spaces (side note, when I searched "boob" on my blog search tool 8 pages of links came up... I need a new topic)(I also couldn't find what I was looking for which makes me think my search thing sucks). So I'm going around all day with these big boobs.
By the time I was 16 I had DD... and now I'm at DDD which apparently is also E but I'll stick with DDD because E sounds like I have a deformity even though they are synonymous. Having such large melons can affect a gals back like nothing else. I had a lot of pain and I went to the doctor every month and a half or so to get him to pop my stuff back into place and make me feel good. He suggested I get a new mattress.
My parents then for my 17th birthday bought me a whole new bedroom suet with a new mattress and I was in heaven.
Except, and here is where I'll admit something not many people know about me, but I am afraid of mirrors in the dark... there are people in there, and in the dark they look like warped versions of myself that are very scary!
So my mom was pissed I didn't want the obnoxiously over sized mirror but my little sister wanted it and I wasn't too upset at the thought of losing her to the night mirror people. She was an annoying little person.
The culmination of this story comes to the fact that my parents bought me a full sized bed. Just big enough to make you think 2 people can fit in it, in fact two people can fit in it, as long as those two people are both girls... but sleeping with girls was only fun till I was about seventeen and a half... and my parents knew there was no way that I could share that bed with a boy even slightly taller than the average sized girl. And since I'm usually smitten with gents at least 6 feet, preferably taller, I was doomed to never comfortably have a slumber party with a boy I was interested in...
My parents hate me.