Aliens vs. Exorcists vs. Ginormous Tatas

So I don't have a full length mirror in my home in a location where I generally see myself unclothed. It's in the kitchen, which is one piece of evidence that we may be rednecks. The only mirror I regularly look into only shows me from the cleavage up. If I stand on tip-toe I can see how my breasts are transmogrifying into something horrible and frightening. I don't do that very often.

But today I went to Motherhood Maternity in the mall to return some bras I'd bought the other day that fit when I was standing up in the dressing room, but not so much when I sat down.

I returned the bras for store credit, went to eat some lunch, and came back to try on jeans, which were on sale, Buy 1, Get 1 Half Price (plus the Illinois State Tax Holiday is going on until Sunday).

I miraculously found 2 pair of jeans that fit and that I liked. The pair I was wearing was an ill-advised Ebay purchase, a size too big, and they have been literally falling off me all day. I looked like a rapper with an unattractive blouse.

The sales lady also tried to find me some bras. She measured me and I told her the bras I'd just returned were 3 sizes LARGER than I was measuring and that when I stand up with my arms straight up, the bras fit me GREAT. But not so much when I sit down. Not believing me, for some reason, she handed me 3 bras in the size I measured. Um. What did I just say, lady? I handed them back to her over the door. "This one is 3 sizes smaller than the one I just returned. This one is 3 sizes smaller than the one I just returned. This one is 3 sizes smaller than the one I actually liked, even though it just fit on the last hooks." I asked her to find the one I had been about to try on when she decided to measure me.

I stood there, naked from the waist up, and decided, I haven't seen a horror movie in a while. Let's see what we look like in the full length mirror.

Well. I won't even describe what I saw, but suffice it to say, I would rather see all the "Saw" movies back to back for 3 days in a row.

Stretch marks? Really? Bright red claw marks down the sides of my stomach? Is something trying to get in, or get out? I've only gained FOUR POUNDS, people. Why the face??

I finally put my shirt back on and went back to help the sales lady find my bra. She was standing in the middle of the store, YAWNING AND STRETCHING. Huh. She said, "Did those work out?" (I was carrying out one of the first ones she'd handed me that I'd told her didn't work out).

Anyway, long story short, I bought 2 pairs of jeans and left. The other sales lady referred me to Betty Schwartz's, so I'll go there when I have gathered my getting-my-boobs-measured-by-trained-professionals strength (plus saved up some money, 'cause damn, its costs some MONEY to find a bra that actually makes you not want to rip your boobs off).

Also?  Two hours after a hearty lunch, and I'm starving. Is this the beginning of the end for me?