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Entry Category: Default Category
Published On: 07/27/2009 04:34 PM
I feel fat. I really do. I know I'm not, but with the generally pear shaped body type prevalent with men in my family, and with my longing to be a charming sissy slut, my wight concerns me. The silly part of all this is that I don't actually know how much I weight. I haven't been in a scale in over a year. I should get one. If I'm going to be fussy about something it might as well be something I've measured.
Published On: 07/27/2009 04:34 PM
I feel fat. I really do. I know I'm not, but with the generally pear shaped body type prevalent with men in my family, and with my longing to be a charming sissy slut, my wight concerns me. The silly part of all this is that I don't actually know how much I weight. I haven't been in a scale in over a year. I should get one. If I'm going to be fussy about something it might as well be something I've measured.
And if I am getting fat? Then it's time to diet and swear off fried chicken. That's my big vice. I treat myself to chicken fingers and hot wings far too often. But hot wings bring me such joy. Are they too good to be good for me? Can't I walk the pounds off? I'd much rather hike them off. I've been in Kentucky for over a year and I haven't explored the hills yet.
But keeping the weight off would have some advantages. I've alway wanted to see myself in a bikini. And if other people are going to see me too, then I'll need to keep trim, shaved, and toned.
Wendy
Entry Category: Default Category
Entry Mood:
(Happy)
Published On: 07/19/2009 10:20 PM
Hey hey Dearies,
Entry Mood:
(Happy)Published On: 07/19/2009 10:20 PM
Hey hey Dearies,
I spent around an hour picking out the ensemble I showed you on the previous entry. Don't worry, you'll be seeing me in it soon enough. But there was the nicest man behind the counter when it came time to make my purchase. He even got the petticoats down for me. He asked it what it was for, and I made a joke about putting together a sexy bowling team uniform. He asked, "Is it a drag sports team?" I just had to admit it. I told him it was an outfit for drag, and he said, "All right!" and gave me the sweetest smile. We have friends everywhere.
Wendy
Entry Category: Default Category
Published On: 07/16/2009 04:03 PM
Published On: 07/16/2009 04:03 PM
I thought you ladies might like a peak and what I plan on wearing for a special date tonight. That includes the ropes. Aren't I a lucky girl?
Wendy
Entry Category: Default Category
Published On: 07/15/2009 04:00 PM
Hello Dearies,
Published On: 07/15/2009 04:00 PM
Hello Dearies,
I've spent most of today cleaning in every possible way. Picking up clutter, vacuuming, mopping, folding clothes. I've worked up quite an unladylike sweat. There is no more to this story, but it's one more post toward making this look like a very busy month for this blog. And in the end, isn't that what X-mass is all about?
Wendy
Entry Category: Default Category
Entry Mood:
(Bruised)
Published On: 07/14/2009 02:04 PM
I love laundromats. I have since college. I love being in a place where I have nothing to do but sit, think, read, and wait for clothes to dry. Why by a washing machine when I can experience the bliss of bundling up my dirties, slipping across town, and engage in the sublime communal experience of public laundering? And there is the secret little thrill that someone might see the panties spinning in the dryer and know.
Entry Mood:
(Bruised)Published On: 07/14/2009 02:04 PM
I love laundromats. I have since college. I love being in a place where I have nothing to do but sit, think, read, and wait for clothes to dry. Why by a washing machine when I can experience the bliss of bundling up my dirties, slipping across town, and engage in the sublime communal experience of public laundering? And there is the secret little thrill that someone might see the panties spinning in the dryer and know.
Then came today. I had four loads going; one in the side loading machine and three in top loaders. The side loader finished a little before the others, and when I made my way over to the machine I found that a load that wasn't mine was spinning in it, and all my clothes were in a basket, some placed with great care, others jumbled up all higgledy-piggledy. The man loading the other side loader game me a furtive eying. What?
I can't trust my clothes now. No one has any right to just start touching another's clothes. I know where that man's hands have been. They've been touching his dirty laundry. Now they've touched my clean laundry, and that makes them less than clean. And less than clean is dirty. Don't ever touch my laundry again. Ever!
Laundry is intimate, particularly because it contains out intimates. Clothes are what we use to shield the world from our nakedness, and to shield our nakedness from the world. From tatters to a ballroom gown, our clothing is forever brushing up against our nudity. That bond is betrayed when someone we don't know touches that which touches our must vulnerable selves. It is intimate contact, second hand though it maybe, without the consent of the contactee. It is molestation. It is perversion. It is to be undressed with another's hands has opposed to their eyes.
Shame it wasn't one of the loads with my panties in. Sure, I would have had to wash them all over again, but at least that would have given him something to think about.
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