The title of this post pays homage to one of my favorite coming-of-age high school movies, Clueless. In the movie, Cher chairs a committee for the Pismo Beach Disaster Relief where she gets all her (rich) friends to donate goodies to aid recovery from this natural disaster.
This is not the point of the post. The point is that I had the opportunity to visit Pismo Beach for a few days in January and had a disaster of my own. I forgot my swim suit. You're thinking, "It's January, too cold for bathing suits". Alas, it was a glowing 70 degrees and sunny for the two days I was there and all I wanted was to take the twins out on a beach-side stroll, show them off in my best halter and get my tan on. Of course, being without swimsuit leaves me with the daunting task of trying to find one for the time being. Finding a suit for a big-breasted girl like me is like trying to find a milk carton kid after they've been missing for nearly 20 years. No body, no perp, but someone keeps on looking.
I luck out in a surf shop that has a few cute halters in a L. That scarlet letter L. I cringe at the thought of feeling too big to even be branded an L. But, there I was, topless in the dressing room, staring down the few final selections I'd made.
One by one, they were eliminated. Boob coming out the sides, toppling out the top, sneaking down below.
I looked myself in the mirror, sloughed off the disappointment and then realized: If this is what The Powers that Be wanted to have happen, then they, along with the other innocent bystanders at the beach that day, would be forced to deal with the consequences.
I took myself to a far corner of Pismo Beach and let those rays burn my nipples to a tasty crisp.
