Metamorphosis? or recently a man said to me "those lips on my cock. yum" or is it just that old need to be terminally unique
As soon as I could successfully walk the length of the kitchen without stacking it and grabbing on to either the fridge or Grizelda my heart sank. I have chipped off another piece of myself only this time it won't be glued back on. I walked up to Grizelda and said 'what do you think?'. She sang 'Dale looks like a lady' and this was entirely the problem.
I was wearing a new dress, red heels and red lipstick. She looked down at my legs and said 'the hair has to go'. I'm drawing a line in the sand. Right there. Right in the lounge room in front of the best chair for watching telly. The leg hair stays.
When I first moved in to The Peach sure I was broken but I was walking around in my usual clothes. Oversize business shirts and loose trousers with sneakers for the office, jeans and whatever with sneakers for everywhere else. I had no lipstick, no clothes that showed any hint of what might be under them and certainly no dresses. These days I'm walking around with cleavage that once made a man walk into a pole outside The Duke, red lipstick, five dresses and now two pairs of heels (the walking in the heels may take some work). I don't know who this person is. I suspect I do not like her.
This new person, Dale from outerspace, is someone that sometimes men look at. She is someone that is sleeping with a man significantly older than her, she is someone who applies red lipstick. This is not ideal but I'm not sure what to do about it. Is the painted outer Dale changing the Dale inside? This is becoming a cog. I feel factions forming and there are pointed things beginning to push upwards. There is a sense of loss and wonder.
I was wearing a new dress, red heels and red lipstick. She looked down at my legs and said 'the hair has to go'. I'm drawing a line in the sand. Right there. Right in the lounge room in front of the best chair for watching telly. The leg hair stays.
When I first moved in to The Peach sure I was broken but I was walking around in my usual clothes. Oversize business shirts and loose trousers with sneakers for the office, jeans and whatever with sneakers for everywhere else. I had no lipstick, no clothes that showed any hint of what might be under them and certainly no dresses. These days I'm walking around with cleavage that once made a man walk into a pole outside The Duke, red lipstick, five dresses and now two pairs of heels (the walking in the heels may take some work). I don't know who this person is. I suspect I do not like her.
This new person, Dale from outerspace, is someone that sometimes men look at. She is someone that is sleeping with a man significantly older than her, she is someone who applies red lipstick. This is not ideal but I'm not sure what to do about it. Is the painted outer Dale changing the Dale inside? This is becoming a cog. I feel factions forming and there are pointed things beginning to push upwards. There is a sense of loss and wonder.
Comments
What a great image. Thanks for this morning's chuckle.
Oh yes viva the leg hair.