The guy mocked me for being triggered, and told me "You are not well," and then my friend deleted the post. (This was after he had several comments about how he's the type of man that any one of his female friends or relatives would come to if they were assaulted.)
Spike's Bitches 49: As usual, I'm here to help you, and I... are you naked under there?
Spike-centric discussion. Lusty, lewd (only occasionally crude), risqué (and frisqué), bawdy (Oh, lawdy!), flirty ('cuz we're purty), raunchy talk inside. Caveat lector.
I'm breathing better now and I stopped shaking. Thanks.
Ugh, that sounds awful.
Sort of calm now. Really not looking forward to teaching at 8 AM tomorrow, though. I'm not going to be getting much sleep tonight, and I haven't gotten much sleep in a while.
I also really need to shower, but that just feels like too much. But my hair is getting gross.
Maybe a shower would help you feel better. If that doesn't seem likely, putting it off isn't terrible.
OK, just helped a stranger on the internet sort through her DNA results, and helped her see that she had a half-sister who she'd never known existed, and she just told me that she's crying because she's so happy to have a sister. So that made me feel a bit better.
Wow, well done!
I am cranky and achy and I want Jonathan Van Ness to come play with my hair.
There are lots of horrid childhood memories associated with the church I was taken to, but one really good memory was our Sunday School. We had assembly and then the boys and the girls went to separate classes, and the girls' teacher let us mess with each others hair while she taught the lesson. We obviously learned it better while having our hair braided or combed, or braiding or combing someone else's hair, so that was something we looked forward to on Sundays. Then we got promoted to an older more adult class and there was no more hair braiding.
Hil, your ability to make sense of DNA results is so cool. I'm sorry that there was such ugliness in the earlier part of the evening.
Connie, those dreams are no joke.
I'm having a hard time with having to put eye drops in Harvey's eye. Emotionally, that is. The job is getting done. But not only is he fighting me and that cuts at my heart, but that eye still has Horner's syndrome so whenever I let myself think about the creepifying dream, I freak out a bit. I need Harvey's eye to either get better or to not have look closely at it three times a day.