My Corset

Mine corset brings all the girls to the lea, and they think, 'tis better than thee!

Massive Update.

Oh, how I have neglected my journal for some time, to perhaps one person's chagrin. (Love you darling.) I shall abridge my thoughts all into one, as they do jumble about.

Firstly. I am no longer employed at The Shelter. Those closest to me know that it was terribly love/hate for some time, and relationships got quite messy towards the end of my employment.

{Cuteoverload.com}

Never befriend your boss. Never. Never ever. Even if there is a precedent and you feel secure about it. ::sigh:: There are many things I miss about that environment. But there are many more that I am glad to have washed my hands of. The Shelter is just too big an undertaking for one small person such as I, and you very much get into the fixer-up mode with a cause like that. Fixing that place is MUCH MORE than a coordinated effort, much less something that can be shouldered by one person, no matter how dedicated.

Secondly, fuck the police. Seriously. I already had a sour encounter with one, and now this? (This is something I cannot discuss as the court date and sentencing is pending, but ask and you shall receive. It just isn't something I can publicly rant about yet, even though I do my best to keep this blog anonymous. I would nearly die if something I said came back to cause someone I love a harsher sentence.)

And thirdly, and most beautifully . . . ::sigh:: Those of you that keep up (which is fairly easy considering how often I update) know that Ed recently lost his grandmother. Well . . . before she began to lose her bearings she and Ed's gramp discussed handing down her engagement ring to Ed, and thusly, to me.

I could have cried to hear this.

The only reason I am aware of its occuring is because Ed wanted to make absolutely sure it would be something I was okay with (you know, having some dead lady's ring) . . . but I'll be goddamned if that isn't the sweetest most heartfelt thing I've ever been involved in, ever. They thought and think so highly of me that they would let me continue the wearing of a ring with a precedent of 70+ solid years of pure, true love? I nearly cried upon hearing of this gift. No one has ever thought of me so well. I thought her bands went with her to eternity. I'm just . . . so incredibly honoured to continue on with her love.

{blog.healia.com}

Ed tells me it's beyond beautiful. I know I'm sure to see it soon. And yes, the suspense is killing me.

Numero Duo

{www.stallwallpoetry.com}

Okay, so. As a rule, I try to avoid pooing in public places, but sometimes, it is unavoidable. While I was manning the offsite adoption center the other day it became apparent that one of these times was approaching.

Somewhere in this monstrous pet store dwells an employee bathroom, but as I have yet to discover it, I moseyed to the familiar public one.

The first sign of trouble was that there were already two people in the restroom, and that my only option was the center stall. Great. I go in, pull down my pants, and settle in for the long haul.

Now if you're like me, you don't poo when other people are in there. You wait. I don't know why, but I just can't poo when people are around, listening, thinking about me next to them dropping a deuce. So now it's the waiting game.

The girl on my left filters out fairly quickly, but it becomes abundantly clear that the lady next to me has the same poo policy.

We find ourselves in an awkward "Wait Off." No words, just instinctual stubbornness. This bitch even goes so far as to pull a nail file out of her purse and go to town. No way, lady. I got no where to be. You can't power move ME.

After a good five minutes (and it doesn't sound long, but in potty-stand off mode it is an ETERNITY), another person comes in to go, and righty is done with her manicure.

She gets up, likely unfinished and defeated, and leaves me to my business.

I REIGN VICTORIOUS!