Oh, sweet Jesus, I do NOT need another corset: [link] But...but...it's pink and black and awesome and under $100 and I already got my tax refund.

Oh my lord. I might have to get it.

The part I hate the most.

Oh, me too. Except you have already folded. It's the putting on hangers and then putting the damn stuff away that I put off and put off and put off.

Also I wanted to say that your MiL has been in my thoughts. My grandma battled (and beat) c diff and I recall what a hard thing it was. I am glad things like probiotics are around and being used more and more now.

If you don't I may, Steph. How did I not know about that site?

Definitely not oversharing.

just to marvel over how goddamned ingrained it is.

I do this too, with slightly different stuff. With my family it's self-castigation, and worrying about what others will think. And second-guessing decisions FOREVER.

Yeah, Liese. I work with people who complain about how the country is becoming socialist like Cuba, and I like and respect them. I mostly shake my head or crack a joke or change the topic. It's the attacks on Planned Parenthood and collective bargaining and gay rights and programs for the poor and illegal immigrants and CPB and violent rhetoric and taking guns to protests and and and... all that makes me sad and confused.

My grandfather is an extremely generous person, takes in stray animals, takes wonderful care of his neighbors, donates to a shitload of charities, has shown me a lot of love, and helped raise two of his grandkids after a nasty divorce. He's also very homophobic, somewhat racist and a right-wing nutter who thinks Obama is stupid and Sarah Palin's brilliant and a load of other crap. I love him, but I hate visiting now, because of Glenn Beck on 24/7 and him constantly trying to get us to agree with him.

If you don't I may, Steph.

There's more than one -- corsets for everyone! (Also, I think we don't wear the same size, so there's no danger of you ganking the corset out from under me.)

How did I not know about that site?

There are a gazillion corset sites out there. I find them mostly through dedicated kinksters who post links on the other site.

It looks like a fairly well made corset for an off-the-rack dealie. I don't wear them for longer than a few hours, so I don't have the same needs that someone who wears one all day does. And I'm not interested in the whole tightlacing/waist reduction thing (hello, IBS + corset), so that kind of corset works well for me. Some day, though, I do dream of getting a custom one.

It looks like they ship from the UK, and claim to have a really good return policy (plus returns from the US go to a US address). Meep. I really might have to get it.

Tim (who's at work right now) is so happy right now and doesn't even know why.

I bought the Lehman's Amish stovetop popper. It's a lightweight aluminum, so it heats up really quick, and then there's a little stirrer thing so you can keep the popcorn moving. It is made of awesome. I can make my own kettle corn, or flavor it all crazy. I can use it on the stovetop or woodstove or grill or whatever, and it's great.

OMG, their corsets are all 3 for 2. ::whimpers::

OMG, their corsets are all 3 for 2. ::whimpers::

I KNOW!!! Damn them.

Oh my god THEY HAVE A CHERRY CORSET: [link]

t iz ded

I actually still physically brace myself to get yelled at.

I can relate to this to infinity.

Changing that reaction took some counter-intuitive action on my part.

It all started with a jelly glass. Not sure even why I had said jelly glass because all my tableware is thick, heavy, usable after the apocalypse style from CratenBarrel. Uniformity comforts me.

Anyway, I dropped the glass, is shattered and I stood in my kitchen, looking at my broken glass, waiting for someone to hit me. I should mention that I was something like 42 when this happened. As I stood their shaking, and then noticing the shaking, a weird feeling came over me. I reached up into the cupboard, pulled out another glass and, without thinking, slammed it to the floor.

My glass. My floor. My adulthood. My choice.

Since then, when I break something, or have that 'just about to get hit' feeling, I say in a kind voice, "Oh Sweetie, it's okay."

It took practice, but that behavior is now just as deeply ingrained as the old fear response was.

It's all about repetition...which is how you learned anything and can now learn new things.