Shopping for a Bathing Suit

It has been several years since the last time I bought a bathing suit. I'm guessing around 6. The two I currently own are losing their elastic properties and one has a few holes in the seat. So I set out today to replace them.
I'm not sure anyone enjoys shopping for bathing suits. For one, the dressing room lights manage to make anyone's skin tone look sickly. For another, I have yet to meet an American woman who feels absolute self-confidence in her body. Trying on swim wear seems to bring out the worst in all of us.
I can't think of bathing suits without thinking of the comic strip Cathy. There seems to always be a scene with Cathy trying on a suit and shrieking "AAACK!"
To verify that my recall is correct, I looked up Cathy on Wikkipedia, source of all internet knowledge. Here is what Wikki has to say about Cathy:
"Cathy has a love/hate affair with food (especially carbohydrates). She loves it, but hates what it does to her thighs. She is often shown in a department store fitting room trying to stuff herself into a bathing suit."
Today's trip typified my previous experiences only more so. Perhaps it was my choice of stores (Nordstrom's) or my tendency to shop at the end of the season, but the suits I found were particularly loathsome. No, this was not my body image problem. I immediately determined that I do not need the slimming suit (one entire rack) since I have been accused of having "no butt." I tried on suits that made me look lopsided, suits that made me look lumpy all over and ones that even a woman built like a fashion model would have refused to wear unless paid handsomely. What were the designers thinking of? These weren't cheap suits either (note I was at Nordstrom's). After trying on around 15 suits I finally found something, ahem, suitable. Nothing great. Just not a granny suit and not a string bikini either. I can wear it in public without needing liposuction or a paper bag to wear on my head. And it doesn't make me look like I have three breasts.
On the plus side, on the way out of the building I fell in love with a dress which I will wear to the wedding I'm attending at the end of the month in New York City. So the outing wasn't a total waste.
By the way, that is really me on the rope swing. It was around 6 years ago and we were in Costa Rica. I was the only adult brave enough to swing with my son. Which is part of the reason the elastic is gone on that particular swim suit. It served its purpose.
Tomorrow we head to California for a family vacation and a few college tours. I hope I get some great shots of Yosemite and Sequoia to share with you. And I hope the natives like my swim suits.
Back soon, internet access willing.

MeSsedTuP

MeSsedTuP is a humorous take on my previous academic training. Actually the acronym is MSTP which stands for Medical Scientist Training Program. We also used to say it stands for Maybe Someday To Practice. Today's theme has nothing to do with the above pictures. They refer to how I am spending my summer vacation. And my new-found ability to download two pictures to my blog at a time. Of course, I still haven't figured out how to move them around the page.

To begin (again). Well, around a century or two ago when I was young and idealistic, I had the honor of being accepted to the MSTP program. The MSTP is a federally funded program designed to create Medical Scientists. The theory is that students complete both an M.D. and a Ph.D. (somewhat) concurrently and therefore become ideally placed to become cutting edge medical researchers.

And why am I on a rant about something that I started in 1983 and finished in 1992? Because I have run into some interesting Blogs by women in science. Some are completing Ph.D.'s and some are junior faculty. I wish them all luck. And I admire their Blogging acumen. I have linked to two (another new Blog skill) but there are more out there worthy of attention.

The interesting thing is that I'm not sure I am a "woman in science" anymore. For me the "Maybe Someday To Practice" is descriptive of my current career choice. My work life since 1983 has gone more or less as follows: Ph.D. (basic science), M.D., postdoctoral fellowship (bio-medical), residency, medical fellowship, academic position, private hospital position, academic position, private practice. If my thesis advisor knew what I do for a living now, I think he would feel all his hard work wasted. But what about all my hard work? Was it wasted?

The answers depend on how you look at it. See, being a woman in science, I also have to listen to the old biological clock ticking away (in direct conflict to any potential tenure clock). Somehow I managed to squeeze into the above list, marriage (Ph.D.), first child (M.D.), spend time with first child before intern year (postdoctoral fellowship), see child on days when not on call (internship and residency), second child(fellowship, no more in-house call), raise a family and earn a living (all jobs since). Job number three made me decide against potential child number three--fatigue factor was too daunting.

Oh, by the way spouse is a "man in science"--now why does no one ever use that phrase? He managed his Ph.D. before marriage, skipped the M.D. and now has tenure. I am not trying to imply that he hasn't pulled his own weight (solo parenting while wife away on 24 hour call and zombie next day). I only bring it up here to point out how complicated it gets sometimes.

Anyhow, I'll leave you with this cliff-hanger ending. It's dinner time and I figure no one will read this Blog if it gets too long. Next installment, how I got out of science and into humanity. . . .