If I wasn't taken and living a thousand miles away from you and probably about four times your age, I'd be at your door in a moment bearing flowers and chocolates and a big drink with an umbrella and a full serving of fruit. Maybe in an alternate universe somewhere.
Actually, I came here because of your comment on Seanan's entry, about changing a tire in a foofy dress and loving it. And gender stereotypes. And I found that your most recent entry was this one. How cool and serendipitous is that?
I haven't actually ever changed a tire in a dress, only four of them in jeans and boots like a normal person. Two in the rain, which is lovely---there is just something very satisfying about getting all muddy and such. Although that works with anything else, too. You should see me after I've been mixing clay---I somehow manage to come away from that half-coated with dust and slip in multiple designer colors.
I just like the image, and . . . while I kind of on some level like the look of dresses, it's a vaguely alien feeling to wear one. The behavior coding that goes with it, maybe. So about five minutes in I'm fantasizing about fixing it. With mud, grease, or at very least steel-toed boots.
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If I wasn't taken and living a thousand miles away from you and probably about four times your age, I'd be at your door in a moment bearing flowers and chocolates and a big drink with an umbrella and a full serving of fruit. Maybe in an alternate universe somewhere.
Because...just, wow.
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(Admires your sweaty, dusty physique)
Ah, to be ninety again!
Actually, I came here because of your comment on Seanan's entry, about changing a tire in a foofy dress and loving it. And gender stereotypes. And I found that your most recent entry was this one. How cool and serendipitous is that?
Reply
I haven't actually ever changed a tire in a dress, only four of them in jeans and boots like a normal person. Two in the rain, which is lovely---there is just something very satisfying about getting all muddy and such. Although that works with anything else, too. You should see me after I've been mixing clay---I somehow manage to come away from that half-coated with dust and slip in multiple designer colors.
I just like the image, and . . . while I kind of on some level like the look of dresses, it's a vaguely alien feeling to wear one. The behavior coding that goes with it, maybe. So about five minutes in I'm fantasizing about fixing it. With mud, grease, or at very least steel-toed boots.
Reply
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