Spike's Bitches 30: Going on Thirteen
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risque (and frisque), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
When I had my nerve block, they
refused
to let me have a cab pick me up, despite their assurances that it was a minor procedure with only local in my scalp.
I could have driven home, no problem.
When I had the second nerve block, combined with trigger point injects, I was looped the fuck up. But I still would have been able to call a cab.
I don't think it's especially loserish to have no one to be shuttling you around in the middle of the day. If I hadn't had actor and consultant friends in the neighbourhood, I'd have given myself an ulcer working out some way to not have other friends take any time off work for me.
{{Aimee}} I hate when they take thigns away
Go Vw! and you all reminded me that I wanted to change the sheets on the bed this am and wash the balnkets. so I will start after this post
you have cute nephews, sj. Just think of them as travel oppertunities
Car troubles definitely ping me differently than any other kind of stress and it's difficult to explain
which is why after crash test results - reliability is the next. and moving the co- even just a little makes a difference. Matt's co used to be 3.5 miles from home. now he is 13, and it makes just enough difference that takeing the car in for service is way more difficult than it used to be. esp. with gas at 3.00 a gallon
Smite her Aimee - smite her.
Well, I'm not in jail - the hubby lives. For now. I got his new computer networked with his old one. Now the drama of copying over files. I can't even explain why this is difficult, but for him, it is.
Yes, there is a level of computer envy because I had to give up my dream of a laptop for this new beast, but I am ok with that. He finally has a great gaming computer that he has been dying for. Whatever.
don't you go to the grocery store?
Hee. Actually, when possible, I leave it to dh. I loathe that task above all others (even more than dusting) and he doesn't. I did it for a long time though, at one point, with three children under age 5, in tow, which would (imo) give me something like 2.79 gazillion years of grocery-shopping credit if dh and I played tit for tat with household chores (which we don't).
I'm all for dressing how you want. But I'm also all for comfort, both physical and psychological. If I saw another woman at the grocery store in a corset, or all beautifully turned out like Jilli, I'd think it was terrific. If I went to the grocery store in a corset, or all beautifully turned out, I would feel self-conscious.
If I saw someone in a corset at the grocery store, I would assume there is more to thier life than the grocery store.
Corset question: Meschantes lists this as being for sale in your size, and this in a variety of sizes (so I'm assuming it's pre-made). There are quite a few measurements they ask for (though I'm assuming underbust doesn't need all of them). How significant is the risk of buying one of the latter by waist size alone and ending up with something that doesn't fit in another dimension?
I would assume there is more to thier life than the grocery store.
I kinda hope this is true of everyone in the grocery store.
Did you get to watch on the monitor?
Yes! It was pretty freakin' cool. The doctor, who I really liked, pointed out everything to me ("That's your kidney...and now, okay, we're bumping into the wall of the blood vessel but we'll make the turn"). The only part that kinda sucked was the dye injection, which hurt, and made me look like Two Face, if half of Two Face was Violet Beauregard.
Huh. Weird. I've only had Valium once, and it wasn't for a needle phobia (which I don't have) but to relax me while they stuck a camera wire into my vein at my pubic bone and navigated my circulatory system with it up to my shoulder, where they then injected dye through the wire.
I've had that sort of thing! Only they entered via my groin, travelled through the heart and wound up inside my head. And every time they took a photo, it tasted like iodine!
they entered via my groin, travelled through the heart and wound up inside my head.
Ah, much like a woman is a teeny tiny camera...