The one where I sort of talk about the girls

Today, I went to an actual Title 9 store with Jen. (Yes, another Jen. I feel it is important to make Jen connections wherever I go.) Now, I think my love of Title 9 is well known, though my frustration thus far has been living and dying by the catalog. Imagine my joy when I discovered that there was a store -- an actual store -- within spitting distance. Jen, valiant soul that she is, offered to go with me. (And to JoAnn Fabrics, too! There's only so much shopping J.R. can handle.) Tragically, I came away empty-handed (though there were many expensive shirts and pants that I lusted after). My main goal was to get a new sports bra, as during my move I have somehow managed to pick up a few extra pounds -- in my boobs. (Okay, elsewhere, too. But that doesn't affect my sports bra.) And, as I have always said, the girls? They need support. But, alas, somehow they have managed to get bigger -- but not big enough for the next cup size. And pretty much the only article of clothing I want to stick to me in a major way is my sports bra. I'm talking zero movement here, people. Zero. And yet -- I still need to be able to breathe. I'm in a no man's land here, people. I'm screwed.