Fuck Me Shoes

Well, if there is anything that can bring a girl's spirits up and do it with the speed of light, it's shopping. And I have been on a shopping spree.

After many dresses tried on and many opinions solicited, I bought a dress for New Year's Eve. I had been asking pretty much anyone who would talk to me to pick one of the four dresses I had it all narrowed down to. The problem, for me, was that the opinions I most respected were those of my friends in cyberspace. None of whom have ever seen me (and let me just step in here and thank my buddies, Glow, SilverStar, and Asrai for providing their opinions. *sarcasm completely intended* After all, they've actually met me! Thanks, girlfriends!). After much dithering, I finally sent links to the dresses to TR via e-mail. The man has seen me naked after all and can actually make an informed opinion. We decided that I'm either a Marilyn Monroe circa The Seven Year Itch type or a lingerie type. Or both.

So I went to try on the two dresses during lunch today. Oh my. I think I've discussed my recent and unintended weight loss. What I hadn't taken into account is the fact that this weight loss in no way affected my rack. The tits are as big as they've ever been even if they are now perched on a size 6 body. Kinda makes it hard to find a dress to fit. The size 6 in both dresses wouldn't even go over the rack. Not to mention that the zipper simply would not zip to the top even when I held my breath after exhaling. The sizes 10 and 12 of both dresses accommodated the breasts perfectly, but looked like a sack on the rest of me. So my only hope was the size 8. The size 8 proved that even if I am a lingerie type, I should keep it in the bedroom because exposing that much boobaliciousness would certainly get me arrested for public nudity in at least 30 states. But it turns out that a Marilyn-Monroe-circa-The-Seven-Year-Itch-halter-dress in a size 8 is just right. No one will have to ask if they are real and there will be no doubt that they are spectacular. But in a perfectly ladylike way.

Yes, the dress was a bit of a trauma. But I look pretty good in it if I do say so myself. And I ended up getting 40% off and only paying $89 for it. So I'm happy.

The shoes are another story altogether. I saw them a couple of weeks ago, but had no reason to buy them. However, from the minute my sister railroaded me into this whole New Year's Eve thing, they've been lurking in the back of my mind. I knew I wouldn't be happy unless I was wearing them that night. They are probably the sexiest shoes I've ever owned: black suede, four inch heels, and a ribbon around my ankle. They are awesome with the dress.

But what I really want them for? I can't wait to be prancing around my bedroom in my lingerie in all my boobalicious glory with those fuck me shoes on for the benefit of a man who can appreciate all of that. I just hope he'll let me leave the shoes on.

Glimpses Through the Fog

Haven't been around for a while. I don't want to depress all my friends and I simply can't concentrate. Yes, folks, I'm depressed. I have only a few coherent thoughts coming through the fog these days and they are not in any way profound or connected. But here they are.

• I'm beginning to think I'm radioactive. No one locally seems to have any interest in me. But men from my past who live hundreds and thousands of miles away are tracking me down and initiating long-distance relationships left and right. I'm beginning to think men believe I am safe as long as they keep lots of distance from me. Apparently, get too close and I am toxic.
• The ironic thing about that is I think I probably look the best I've looked in a decade. I don't know exactly how much weight I've lost, but it is significant. My size 10s can't be worn because they fall off and sag. I'm easily slipping into my size 8s. And I'm beginning to regret having gotten rid of all my size 6s because I'm pretty sure I could easily squeeze into a few of those. I guess the saying "fat and happy" is true because I'm positive "thin and unhappy" is what I am now.
• I am relieved to have the Thanksgiving holiday (and my birthday) over. While I went through the motions on Thanksgiving eve and day, I spent the rest of my vacation (Friday through Monday) by myself in my nest. Crying most of the time. Don't care to do that ever again, thank you very much.
• That said, I am very apprehensive about Christmas. The University is closed for two full weeks. That's a lot of time and, if I'm to survive it, I have to fill it. I'm trying to decide whether I should even put any Christmas decorations out. I'm definitely not putting up a tree. I simply don't have the heart for it.
• Thank heaven for my sister, Patty. She is at least determined that I will have something to do on New Year's Eve and New Year's Day. And she isn't really giving me a choice. I will be spending NYEve at her restaurant and she insists that I get a new dress to wear for the party. I'll be staying with her and her husband that night and we will spend the next day eating pork and sauerkraut and watching football. I think she's afraid to leave me alone. She might be right if Thanksgiving is any indication.
• I got my Rock Star: INXS DVD and, after reliving the fun of that show, I'm just completely depressed at the thought of sitting through another season of American Idol. But, glutton for punishment that I am, I will.
• I've had one bright spot lately. I bought my very first BOB (battery operated boyfriend). If anyone ever tells you tales about the rabbit, believe them. Really.