This skirt: [link] this shirt (but in black): [link] and a black underbust corset?
Zoe ,'Heart Of Gold'
Spike's Bitches 46: Don't I get a cookie?
[NAFDA] Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
(Also, let me beg of you: please don't give into the temptation to draw squiggly lines on your face with eyeliner. I mean, I'm pretty sure you wouldn't, but my ElderGoth status requires me to say it.)
But...I *want* to look like The Crow!!!
friends don't let friends dress like The Crow
smonster, sorry about the job. Too bad about B, too, that's hard. I will call you in the morning and we will mumble and groan at each other, okay?
Steph, those pieces will work very well.
But...I *want* to look like The Crow!!!
You're trying to see if I suddenly develop magical powers of teleportation through making my head explode. I don't think it works like that.
You're trying to see if I suddenly develop magical powers of teleportation through making my head explode. I don't think it works like that.
Damn, my plan was too obvious!
Total topic switch here, because ARRRRGH:
I'm still having moderately bad social anxiety, but managed to go to a small party last night with only a middling amount of anxiety (until I knocked over a lamp literally as I was leaving -- I snagged my foot on a throw rug, which made the throw rug flip over, I bent down to fix it, my purse swung across my back and knocked over the lamp, and the lamp knocked over an oil diffuser next to it; I swear the Three Stooges could not have scripted it better).
And I even went to a birthday party at Dave & Busters today without flipping out.
So 3 minutes ago a friend of ours sends me an email that reads, in its entirety:
I like you. I wish we could interact when we meet in real life.
And all I want to reply is "You know, the anxiety is bad enough; now I have to worry about whether or I'm meeting YOUR expectations of me?!?"
I get that it was meant to be a nice gesture. Though slightly creepy because of its brevity. But really? This fellow even *knows* I have social anxiety, and yet he still busts out with an "I wish we could interact" email? SERIOUSLY? Gee, buddy, I wish I could interact with ANYONE some days.
Grah. I get that it was meant to be nice, I swear. But it was executed poorly, because now I'm irritated and slightly skeeved.
Tep, I'd be tempted to go with something like "I wish we could interact, too. Social anxiety is a bitch, huh? Good thing there's email!"
WOw. That's just....so not ok. My face is flushing with impotent rage on your behalf.
And I'm EXTRA irritated because I feel like, really? I have to explain myself to you?
It feels like a more extreme version of people who tell you to smile. And THAT? Makes me want to get throat-punch-y.