2005-03-31 - 5:32 p.m.
Google doesn't hate me after all! These past few months, I've been wondering just what one has to do to get the best search engine around to find one's website. As it turns out, I still don't know. I submitted my url a few times since I started the site, but I just randomly showed up yesterday! The problem is that I didn't know that "Lakeline" is also a town in Ohio and a huge mall in Texas. So umm... good luck with finding this site on Google unless you pretty much just type in the whole damn url anyway. But still, no hate! Yay!
TMI? We'll find out...
I hate pantyhose. I hate how it is nearly impossible to find non-control top pantyhose, and if I do it simply constricts less of my stomach than otherwise.
I've therefore started wearing hosiery. Stockings. The kind that require a garter belt.
Sometimes, this makes me feel a bit whore-ish. The only time I see women wearing garter belts is in porn. Now, I'm no porn expert (hee hee! I wish that were on someone's resume!), but if you only ever see/hear about something from porn, it kinda gets a little porn flavor to it (new, porn-flavored ramen!).*
That slight problem aside, I LOVE my solution. Garter belts are comfortable, not-constraining, easy to undo when in the bathroom, and very pretty. The hosiery is not like the thigh-highs you may have tried in the past (put down the package of garter-less thigh-highs and step away slowly. They'll cut off all circulation to your legs and give you a rash from the rubbery stuff that keeps them from falling down. Then they'll fall down anyway), it's just a covering for the legs. The only part that's somewhat hard to get used to is the feeling of the straps around the hip and thigh area. I got over that pretty fast though. It's not uncomfortable, just a little odd.
BUT. I now live in fear that my skirt will blow up (not blow up like explode. Blow up like get blown up by the crazy wind today) and give all of the Chicagoans I pass a glimpse of my goodies. Maybe I should just avoid skirts on windy days. Hmmm...
*Seriously, me, settle down with the parethetical interjections. Out of control.
My life as a rerun
I forgot to touch my farecard again while going through the CTA turnstile. One would think I could manage to remember something simple like paying for transit, but no. Instead I have re-bruised my pubic bone. (Also, maybe I should start going through turnstiles slower if I have this issue with paying?)
Those cabbage-y looking things in the downtown landscaping have been replaced by pussy-willows. It's really beautiful, and it makes me want to steal a piece and pet the soft bits like I used to do when I was a kid. Well, then I wasn't stealing pieces out of planters -- I was taking them from their wild, free, swampy home and putting them in spring bouquets. But still, they're really soft and pretty.
Wow. Umm.. Google? I'm not a Sex Fiend.
I just reread the stuff I've written so far today. I've so hit on porn, whores, pussy-willows, and pubic bone. Hi, Google! I should really stop while I'm ahead.
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