Friday, June 28, 2013

Bras

My bra is quite ill-fitting. It is somewhat distracting to my day. As I walk down the street I notice that it is separating my breasts far too much. They also seem to be bouncing more than usual. This will not do. I imagine everyone is staring at me. Laughing at my pornographic bosom and wondering why I would leave the house in this manner. I am asking that myself. I must find a newspaper to cover my front area with, quickly. If I can look as though I am reading the paper as I walk home, I won't have to be subject to leers for much longer. However, selecting the right paper is also of the upmost importance. If someone sees me reading a certain publication I may forever be deemed a liberal hippie. Another paper might indicate a propensity for charity and collectivism. I do not need slanders on top of slanders. Perhaps I should be served better by buying another bra. I do hate to buy bras in the day time. But for this, I must make an exception.

Wednesday, June 26, 2013

Large Breasts

Although this subject is unseemly, I must confess that my breasts are very large. I do my best to keep them hidden under feathers or some kind of animal fur. But there have been instances, time to time, when they are more exposed than necessary. Generally speaking these moments have to do with a misjudgment in neckline or an exceedingly warm day.  However, today I exposed them...on purpose.

My doctor asked to touch my breasts and I let him. I don't know if it was the sherry I had earlier in the morning or the deepening loneliness. I gave in to my doctor's desires and my own. Afterwards he told me that my breasts were "fibrous but healthy." It was a strange sort of pillow talk but I appreciated the gesture and attempt. The doctor is very busy so he requested our next date six months in advance. He mentioned something about losing weight. The doctor is embolden with his requests but I am happy to be in a relationship with a forceful gentleman of means.



Wednesday, June 19, 2013

Singlehood

Sometimes I am sad that I am single. It doesn't happen often as I spent more years than I can count living with a man that made my stomach turn; both in his inability to thoroughly cook meat products and his general grossness. But there are a few moments when a couple of young lovers are holding hands and smiling and I think "that seems like it might be nice." Because it is nice. Once Humphrey and I held hands and smiled at each other. He had just lost twenty pounds and I had lost ten. We were on a very strict diet for at least three months if I recall. We were going to be attending a party Carole was throwing. Generally Carole's parties are fairly subdued. She doesn't know that many people and the ones she does know make me feel pretty good about my own self but also pretty sad that I am left speaking to them. As if I am like them in some way. And when they speak to me they don't explicitly recognize that I am a far better person than they are. It angers me.

Carole's party was being attended by a former sweetheart of mine, Roy. Roy was a very handsome fellow who ended up doing quite well for himself in the carpet business. Humphrey was always insanely jealous of Roy. Mostly because I often thought of him during intercourse and would sometimes remark that I wish I was having intercourse with Roy and things of that nature. I never meant to hurt Humphrey with these comments but I had to be quite drunk in order to intercourse with him so sometimes it slipped out.

I wanted to look fetching for Roy. Although I do not believe in divorce, I do think it is acceptable to have an affair if your spouse doesn't find out or at least doesn't mention it. Humphrey noticed I was dieting and decided to also diet since he was really quite fat and probably felt a sense of embarrassment and shame. When I saw Roy at the party he was still rather handsome, although he had clearly recently received plastic surgery on his nose as it was very tiny compared to the rest of his face. As I said hello to Roy, Humphrey came over and saw the tiny nose and then we looked at each other, held hands, and smiled.

Sunday, June 16, 2013

It's Not As Hard As It Looks

Humphrey always said that to me. "It's not as hard as it looks." And guess what? He was talking about his penis. And guess what? He was always right.

Friday, June 14, 2013

I am Depressed

Today I am feeling rather blue. Some days I feel quite badly and am unsure the reason. My mother and father used to call these 'gloomy days.' They would tell me that gloomy days were for being alone. In fact, they despised my gloomy days so much that they insisted I sit in my room until it had passed. My parents were very cheery people. They demanded that I smile all the time. If I was not smiling they would tell me to 'turn my frown upside down.' If I did not comply with this request they would scream at me until I cried. The crying was an indicate that I was having a gloomy day so they would lock me in my bedroom until I was capable of smiling.

My parents were always laughing. Sometimes they would laugh in bed, at nighttime, and sometimes they would laugh after work with glasses of clear liquid in their hands. And sometimes they would poke my belly and say 'tumble of bumble keeps a girl humble.' And then they would laugh some more. Even now, as I think of my darling parents I am growing sad. I must be having a doozy of a gloomy day as generally the thought of my parents would bring me a lot of joy.

I have invited Carole over to lock me in my room. I refuse to let the world see me in any way besides cheery. It is unbecoming to be upset or show any sort of grief. The only exception is when a spouse dies and even then you can only be upset for fifteen days. If the sadness extends past fifteen days then a doctor's visit is certainly in order. I was only sad about Humphrey for three days so I used the extra twelve to be sad about other things. It was kind of nice.

Wednesday, June 12, 2013

Television

I enjoy watching television. Some people watch too much television. I understand that it can consume a person's day easily. I often limit myself to 2-3 hours per evening. If I have a lot to do during the day, I will also limit my afternoon allotment to 2-3 hours and my morning allotment to the same. Some of the people on television have very erratic behavior. They say things like, "you are a bitch." And "I will slap your face." And also, "That hair is not your own, it is synthetic and I plan to take it from your head at some point." It is very emotional.

I often wonder where the people on television live? Do they all live together? I would like to think that if I was on television I would behave more appropriately. It would be hard, as I do not eat in public nor do I like to see photographs of myself. But I would feel a sense of pride being a role model for younger persons. It is important that younger persons know that there are some people who wear shirts with bows and who know better than to talk to those in lower status positions then themselves. Also, that you can't expect to walk everywhere and that it is especially important to find a suitor with a great deal of means. Carole told me I should start an article where I impart the dos and don'ts of behavior to younger persons. She got so excited about the idea that she hugged me. Furthering my evidence that Carole is indeed a lesbian.

Tuesday, June 11, 2013

What's For Dinner

When I wake up in the morning I begin to think about dinner. I enjoy discussing the options in my head before I commit to one dish. If my day is particularly bad, I may treat myself to something delicious. If my day has gone rather well then I sometimes I like to compliment my day with something delicious. Often times my day is just so-so. This is where the real planning must begin. A so-so day does not necessarily demand a delicious treat. However, a so-so day may also quickly turn into a terrible day if coupled with a distasteful or bland supper.

My day today consisted of buying pants. I enjoying buying pants. Often my friend Carole will accompany me. A so-so day of pant shopping may turn into a tremendous day if Carole tags along. Mostly because Carole is quite fat. Much fatter than me. When shopping with someone much fatter than yourself you can rest assured that your fat friend will be quite jealous of your size and your general ability to fit into pants. Many pants do not fit Carole and I can tell she is ashamed of it. If there is a pant that does not carry her size or she cannot fit into I like to try them on and show her what they would look like on her is she wasn't so fat. I say, "stand next to me Carole and imagine you are wearing these pants you are too fat for."

Carole is not with me today buying pants, so it is less of a good day and more a so-so day. I also am not sure what color pants I want. Whether or not they should have a pattern or if they should extend to my ankles or to my calves. I am quite indecisive today which will make it much harder to decide on my dinner choice. Perhaps I should only focus on dinner and save the pant store for another day. A so-so day takes much more planning. Besides, a pants day without Carole is no pants day at all.

Monday, June 10, 2013

Baby Powder

My morning routine consists of many agenda items. First, I must put my pillow case in the wash. Even though Humphrey is dead, I still feel uncomfortable about the stains on the case. You see, I leave my makeup on during the evening. Humphrey used to wake up during the night and mistake me for his friend Sal when I slept without makeup. Then, in his haziness he would go on and on about "good old days" stories. And it seems him and Sal shared a girl named Beatrice that he recounted in some detail to me. Then, he would often hold me very close and sob. I did not like being mistaken for his old friend Sal. Married couples should keep a fair amount of secrets between each other and Sal and him had none.

After I put my pillow case in the laundry, I touch up my makeup and wash myself with a damp cloth. Then, I cover my body with baby powder. Many people do not know that baby powder is an essential beauty tool. It eliminates odor, prevents chaffing, and keeps one's body youthful. Very similar to a baby. You would not know it to look at my naked body, but my body looks like a teenagers. It is maybe larger and has more wrinkles than a teenagers. It may have more bumps and hairs than a teenagers. I haven't seen a teenagers naked body for a while. But it looks like a teenagers.

Saturday, June 8, 2013

Menses

I stopped getting my menses quite some time ago. I believe my body ceased producing eggs once Humphrey died. It knew there was no point anymore. There was really no point to begin with as I find children unbearable, but perhaps my body did not communicate with my brain in that regard. Humphrey always wanted children. He would always ask me "why I was so barren?" And "what's going on with my empty uterus?" He wanted me to visit a doctor. I refused. Doctor's are very helpful with things like sneezes and warts, but not for lady problems. A man trying to fix a lady problem! I have never heard of such nonsense. And besides, I rarely let Humphrey take a look at my lady parts. I certainly wasn't going to let some old man doctor inside there.

In reality, I was happy that my uterus refused to conceive. I hated Humphrey so and the thought that a part of him would outlive me was too much to bear. Don't get me wrong, I didn't know for sure that he would die before me. But I had my suspicions. One, he was extremely fat. And two, sometimes I poisoned him. Not a lot, just sometimes he wanted me to take trips with him or do something "as a couple" so I would agree but then slip a little poison in his dinner the night before so he would be too sick to go.

I thought my menses were coming back. I felt a terrible pain in my stomach. I couldn't eat and sitting was uncomfortable. I phoned my friend Carole who thought it was absurd that my menses would return. She laughed and laughed. I hate Carole so much. The pain was so terrible that I had to spend the entire day on my back, in front of a fan, with a cold compress on my head. I realized later that it was the result of a sit-up I had done earlier that morning.

Friday, June 7, 2013

Hair Cut

Today I received a hair cut. Well, in truth, I like to have my hair cut everyday. I believe a woman's hair should extend 2 inches past her shoulders. Any less and she looks too mannish and anymore she looks like a whore. I was adventurous once and decided to cut my hair very short. It was all the fashion in those days. A short bob, or a flip do, or a springy marguerite. The springy marguerite was especially difficult to attain. You would sleep in your curlers with slightly damp hair overnight. Then in the morning you would brush it all out. Then you would take two strands of hair on either sides of your face and curl them tightly with a hot press curler. You would let them stand for at least one hour and then brush them out as well. The girls with springy marguerites were very popular. My mother told me that a springy marguerite was an "invitation for sin." My mother would examine my hair every morning to make sure it did not resemble a springy marguerite. She measured it's length, ensuring it sent the right message to any male suitors. Then she covered my hair with a scarf and sometimes insisted I wear a hat as well.

When I married Humphrey and left my mother's house I decided to cut my hair very short. When Humphrey saw my hair he called me a lesbian. He then called me fat and later called me a lesbian again. Humphrey made me wear a wig to bed as he said that if he woke up next to a woman with short hair he might mistake her for a man and smother her. He preferred that I wear a red wig. Which I did not like because he often wanted to engage sexually with me when I wore it. I eventually cut the red wig short as to inhibit any unwarranted advances.

Thursday, June 6, 2013

Turn That Frown Upside

Today someone told me that my ankles looked suspiciously large. It was my doctor. Apparently a person's ankles should not widen past the width of the same person's thighs. I thought that this measurement hinted at a bit of pseudo-science, witch-doctor, pyramid scheme, mumbo jumbo. But when the doctor's face grew grave and I saw tears forming in his eyes, I thought I had better listen to what he had to say.

Then the doctor said I should lose some weight. He said that I should stop drinking so much sherry before bed and in the morning and before doctor's appointments. Then he printed out some young person's diet I am to follow. I felt very betrayed by this doctor, who is Saul's nephew's friend, basically a relative. And what's worse, he asked me to disrobe! Do you think I am overweight or do you want to have a good, hard look at the goodies? It was rather confusing.

At the end of the day, I have learned a couple things from my experience with "doctor" Morningside. The first is that larger ankles are more sturdy for walking and especially good for sitting, which is what I use them for most. Also, Saul and I need to have a long discussion about this new younger man in my life with a penchant for large ankles.

Thursday, May 9, 2013

Working

Working is for poor people. I know, I know. That is an obvious observation. But when people with any self respect try and work it never ends up quite right. I recently entered the job market. My first attempt at employment was working for this very fat, small man who would constantly give me things to do. Sometimes I did not want to do the things he requested. For example, calling people on the telephone. If someone wants to talk to me they call me. End of story. I am not going to intrude on someone else's' privacy by calling them on the telephone. And in the middle of the day. No, no, no, no. I wasn't raised that way. I was raised to call people at 4pm. Only. This is right before dinner and one to three hours into cocktail time. This way whoever you are calling is in the right frame of mind to receive whatever news you have, good or bad.

Also, this fat small man always stunk of soup. But he did eat a lot of soup. I also like soup, but only creamed corn soup, which is essentially creamed corn with more cream. Today I begin employment at an animal shelter. I hate animals. But I do like certain animal prescriptions, so I am hopeful.

Wednesday, January 9, 2013

Don't Stare at Me

Today a man stared at me. I looked at him while he was looking at me but I turned away when I saw he was looking at me. Then I looked back a few seconds later, assuming he had turned his head, but he hadn't. He was still looking at me. This made me quite uncomfortable. I had worn a fair amount of makeup, so I knew I looked my best. My hat had the perfect amount of feathers in it and my dress was well past my knees. I could not think of another reasons why this man was staring at me.

I then thought that perhaps my hair was tangled. So I discreetly brushed my hair with my fingers. When I looked up the man was still staring at me. I started to feel very hot. Perhaps this man meant to murder me, or worse, take me sexually. Or even worse, stare at me even longer.

Perhaps I should leave the bus? That is what I thought to myself. But I can't get off the bus, there won't be another bus for fifteen minutes. And I don't want to stand on the corner alone. Whenever a lady is alone there are certain presumptions about the lady. I generally try and stand with others if at all possible. When it is not possible I pretend to talk on the phone. I do not believe in mobile phones of course, so I fold a piece of paper in four and pretend it is a phone. It looks quite real.

As my panic began to bubble inside me the man finally got off the bus. I realized after he pulled out a walking stick device that he was blind. I wish blind people would shut their eyes or wear sunglasses. The whole ordeal was quite unnerving.