Jacqui (jacqui) wrote,
Jacqui
jacqui

Mom's Dresses, Burning Man and My Health, My Breasts, Bras, and Breast Cancer


This is one of my Mother's dresses. It is so hard to find her nicer ones, mostly I just come across the uglier ones and I really wanted this one, darn it.


Oh argh I'm such a schmo sometimes, I just missed this dress on eBay, and it's so hard to find my Mother's dresses. They were priced much lower than my Granny's were and made from cheaper fabrics so people didn't save them like they did with the Peggy Hunts (grandma's), and consequently they are harder to find, darn it. I had set a low ball bid on this just to keep my hand in and to prevent the seller from taking it off auction for any reason, but I stupidly forgot to go to my favorite auction sniping program and set a higher bid to ensure my winning the dress. Oh well, I'm getting used to losing these dresses and I can't really afford to keep buying them anyway.

Scott and I are about to start selling things on eBay again. I'm pretty excited because I think that together we'll be able to get so much more done than I ever could on my own. I have Irma and Esther to help me but my Scotty will keep me motivated and be a real partner in this. Plus he has strengths in areas where I don't and vise versa. I have lots of stuff to sell without even having to go out hunting, a whole garage full of accumulated vintage stuff. Well, we'll have to see what the rats have left for us, but I'm sure there will be plenty to sell. Just here in my office I've got two big plastic storage boxes full of things.

Yesterday I kept my commitment to Scott to take digital pictures of at least three things that we are going to write up the auctions for tonight. I wound up taking pictures of six things. I'm competitive that way when I actually get moving. I am such an incredible procrastinator that having someone stay on top of me helps me so much in getting things done. I try to make myself do things by making To Do lists but it just isn't enough, whether it's ADD or my being an Aries or my having the temperament of an artist, I don't know and it doesn't really matter, I do know I need the help to keep me moving.

I have a huge post I wrote up the day before yesterday that I want to put up and share with you but I just hadn't had the chance to edit it so it'll have to wait. I'll put it up and then I'll back date it so it'll fall in the right place.

It's looking more and more like we won't be able to go to Burning Man this year. The cost of the motor home alone, at four thousand dollars, is beyond my reach. I've thought about just roughing it and taking a tent but with my health being kind of delicate I don't know if that's such a terrific plan. Plus two of my doctor's have advised me not to go because I am losing so much weight and need to stay hydrated. The Black Rock Desert is one of the driest places around and even though we drink water all day long people still wind up passing out having to be airlifted to the nearest Reno hospital. With my tiny stomach being unable to accommodate more than a few sips at a time I may not be such a good candidate for such an extreme environment. I don't know, I'm still mulling it over and leaning heavily towards the no side.

I've lost eighty-four pounds so far and my clothes are just hanging off me, yeay, woohoo, yip-yip-yippee. I have never been much of a bra and underwear wearing kind of gal, except for when I knew I'd be taking things off in front of someone I really cared about and wanted to excite, and even then I stopped doing that as I gained weight because frankly bras and underwear hurt damnit. I know that the majority of women feel more comfortable wearing them but I feel like I'm being strapped into corseting that isn't fun or sexy but somehow confining and part of some master plan to keep women enslaved and give us breast cancer. If you thought I was nuts before, you're really shaking your heads at me now aren't you? Oh yeah, well, think about the fact that if we bind our breasts tightly against our checks we are also binding our lymph glands and restricting the natural flow of fluids through this area. Oh argh, I so have to get going and I want to post some links for you here about this, blah. Well, here's one anyway. Maybe my friend Mary will come on over here and clobber me for this, but since SHE WON'T GET A JOURNAL GOD DAMNIT, I guess she won't be able to comment on this, ha ha.

I was just rambling on about the breast thing because my Mom hijacked me the other day and forced me to go with her to the dread bra store, Miss Stevens. If there really were hellmouths like Buffy's Sunnydale, well, then this would be one of them. Imagine seventy year old women who think they know better than you about what your breasts should look like, and how their bras should fit you, women who just reach right into your shirt and move your breasts around as if they were putty. After reluctantly picking out the only bra I could barely stand to wear the German accented salesmonster said, "There now young voman now don't you feeeel better?" When I said no she said, "Vell zat's too bad you can no be an exhibitionist no more." Lovely experience all around, not including the thirty-eight dollar parking ticket.

I have to go take my driver's license test and like I mentioned before I'm super competitive, and I want to get 100%. It's not enough for me to just pass the damned thing, I have to get an A or I won't be happy. Yup, there's a lot for me to work on in therapy...
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