got some post-holiday cash? shop here:

figleaves.com - Bras, Panties, Swimsuits, and Full Figure Lingerie

since i bought stuff for everyone else but me this year, i'm treating me to some new underwear.
they are having the most kick ass sale ever! the site carries high end and affordable brands - from Wacoal to Felina to Playtex - and i just bought three really cute bras for under $100!

but why should you really check them out?
because, unlike some other places (ahem), they actually carry sizes for women whose tits can't fit into a teacup.

toward the end of our last session, Dr. C- said, 'in order to address what triggers your resistance to intimacy we need to see you in a relationship. so you need to start dating.'

gack.

she recommended i go back online since the normal places people date each other (work, social circle, church, extra curricular activities) are, for me, completely estrogen-filled. but this was her caveat: 'you must be honest about what it is you want and try to avoid men who just want to fool around. you said you wanted companionship, so look for qualities that would make for a good companion.'

i complained, 'that means i won't get laid until well into 2008!'
she sighed. 'ding, if all you want to do is get laid, go out and get laid. but you said you don't want to do that.'
'i know.'
'that's why we're pretending B- has moved.'
'i know. you're right. companion. ok.'

so where am i going to find this companion?
i can forget about nerve; the only folks on there are erectile dysfunctional one night stands. i've done that, already, thank you very much. match was horrific; eharmony sent me youth pastors from lombard and sad, divorced dads living on the illinois-wisconsin border. where can i go next?

chemistry. i think it's supposed to be eharmony-lite. no 29 dimensions, but still a really long personality test (i'm a Director/Negotiator, heavy on the Director bit) and incremental communication steps. the good thing is that they send you matches right away; none of eharmony's esteem-killing, months-long waiting to see a profile. but, again, my honest needs are resulting in suburban divorced dads. i don't know what it is going on. is my inner self suburban? is there a Willow Creek, twin set housewife inside me, just waiting to wander out?

i shudder to think.

anyway, i'll keep all 5 of my readers posted.
...
on the B- front, i've been fairly successful in pretending he lives in another state. at this time of year, i'd usually be planning how i could convince him to spend a long weekend with me in my neighborhood. (such planning would meet with staunch resistance and i'd spend christmas seething silently about why he won't cross town on a bus to see me.) this year, i'm completely uninterested. i mailed him one very impersonal christmas card and, yesterday, when he dared to bait me by saying 'maybe if you got in shape you wouldn't need therapy' and you could think clearly' i politely ignored his rudeness and just said back to him 'i guess we all get in shape in different ways. my therapist is helping me see things a LOT more clearly, thanks.'

yes, i could have called him an asshat, but what would that accomplish?

there's nothing going on here at the office so i'm online looking at smartphones.
i have a regular palm pilot but i don't get email on it; it means i'm juggling between my work laptop, palm and mobile phone. it's not like i'm some high-powered consultant, but it would be nice to have everything in one place.

(and, frankly, if i make my professional move in the next year or so to a bigger agency or a faster environment, then i'll need a phone/PDA option with more oomph.)

i kinda like the Treo 680 and i like the Centro (but the Centro looks a little light to handle some of my work stuff.) the Curve is gorgeous. so is the Pearl, but it looks a little cold to me. it's important to have a smartphone with some warmth.

slowly, i'm making my way into the digital age. i tiptoed over to look at an ipod the other day and looked at the cute little shuffle; i'm afraid that owning anything created after 2001 may break my laptop. is that irrational? it seems irrational. i even pondered getting a new laptop (but then what will i pay for italy with?) it would be great to be completely digitally upgraded.

i should go home, shouldn't i?

dammit. i knew it was getting harder for me to string more than two complex thoughts together.

[thanks, Orange!]

merry merry!

i'm back at the office.

is there more to be said?
...
plans for the upcoming holiday break:
a slumber party for me and some girl friends at my place
volunteering at church
the carol service at church
a party
hanging out with a friend and his partner after a conference
greedily watching the 3rd season of Dr. Who all by myself
catching some movies (Juno, Margot at the Wedding, Sweeney Todd)
reading comic books
drinking

oh, and maybe adding another section to the Worst Romance Novel Ever.

that's a pretty cool holiday plan, if i say so myself.

when will i learn? never ever eat vegan. never. not even non-vegan fare served from a vegan kitchen.

i went to therapy today (rough) and went to a local cafe to decompress and read for a bit (it gets really lonely in the loft during the day). atomix. they're nice. the space is nice. the coffee is ok, i guess. (sort of gritty and burnt tasting but, whatever, it's coffee.) twice i'd been grossly disappointed with their muffins, which could be used for doorstops; so this time i went for the non-vegan peanut butter cookie.

grossly disappointed again! it was as big as a saucer, a half inch thick, and hard as a rock. i needed two hands to break that fucker into adamantine pieces so i could dip it into my coffee and gnaw on it. no flavor and utterly unappetizing as either a cookie or anything resembling a sweet snack. dude. i made better peanut butter cookies when i was in grade school.

i want to support indie cafes, i do. but only if their food doesn't translate into 'inedible snackage only a person with dead taste buds could love.'
...
as for therapy, issues covered today included: dead mom (the rough part), dad, hating the church of my childhood, dating, and finally moving on from, uh, B-. (the exact words Dr. C- used were "In order for you to grow, we have to pretend that B- has moved.")

the good parts

I've been reading the 'good parts' since going to church, during the old pastor's sermons in my childhood. I wasn't allowed to sneak in my own books anymore ("You have to be an example, Ding.") so I'd take my mother's white leather bible and look for the good parts: the fornication, the adultery, the incest, the Song of Solomon. ("tee hee, he said breasts!")

My sister wasn't so into the good parts, but I was; it was like they had a secret to whisper to me. But at the time, all I ever learned was never bathe openly on a roof so the king can see you (David/Bathsheba), don't make cakes for your drunk brother (Absolom/Tamara), and don't get caught in a cave with your dad after a cataclysm (Lot/Daughters).

On the bus the other night, I thought briefly about my lifelong attraction to the 'good parts,' the erotic or the downright naughty bits of literature, or anything, really. It seems that was my childhood bent - to touch my nose to the faintly oderous drawers of Sin and then put them away for a while until I had to sniff again. Why did I think about this on the bus? Because it was dark and the snow was falling and my eyes kept going to a very young thing across the aisle from me. He was talking to a friend and every two stops or so, I'd find myself glancing at him. It got to a point I just contented myself with watching him avidly through the window's reflection.

For the past weeks, I've been weak, drawn, muffled and startled by pain as my guts knit themselves back together. But now, as the pain recedes, strength returns and so does a particular alertness. On the bus, as I took in this very young thing with my eyes, I finally understood the corny romance novel phrase he drank her in. I felt like an alcoholic finally allowed one glass of wine or a vampire guzzling the contents of a vein. (Actually, I also felt like a dirty old woman. Bah.) Then, when he was gone so was my itchy, uncomfortable thirst. I was able to eat dinner with friends and gave the short bus ride no other thought.

Until now. I'm looking out at the gray afternoon, watching the smoke rising from chimneys. Everything looks cozy and snug, like a Dickens scene. The cold outside creates a desire for warmth inside. I've been reading all day and there is something so pleasurable about spending the day bundled up with a book that other pleasures also come to mind.

How twisted is is when these thoughts all come together inside my head: church, bible, reading, lust, prohibition, discovery, restraint, pain, pleasure.