Sad face.

My corset doesn’t fit right anymore.

But, but, but why?

But, but, but why?

I’ve recently lost a shit-ton of weight, all from my stomach, waist, and hips.  I kept the triple-Ds.

Which, generally speaking, is fucking awesome.

However…

I went and got pictures taken with the other leaders of the Femdom group last night.  And I wore my corset, because I love that thing (fun side fact…. I had to be barefoot, because I wore my knee-high boots, which have a substantial heel.  I’m 5’9-ish, maybe 5’10” barefoot.  When .I had the boots on, I was so tall that they couldn’t fit both me and the seated group leader in the frame).

But I haven’t worn the corset in a few months.  I didn’t tighten it at home, because trying to drive a car with a tightened corset is a ginormous pain in the ass.  I waited until I got there, and then had one of them do it.

About halfway through, I looked back at her over my shoulder and said, “You’re still good.  You can go way tighter.”

She hesitated, looked up at me, and said, “Uh, no I can’t.”

The two edges were touching.  It literally couldn’t go any tighter.

My $300 corset is too fucking big for me.

Except, of course, for in the chest.  It’s an over-bust corset (which is the style I prefer) and while it was way, way too loose in my stomach, the girls kept trying to poke out the top.  I didn’t realize how noticeable it was until I saw the pictures from the shoot.

Like damn.

So that sucks.

There’s an awesome seamstress and corset-maker here in town, so I’m going to take it to her and see what she can do to fix it.  It might be a little bit expensive, but it damn sure won’t be $300-expensive.

Still sucks, though.  Pouty face.

Dude, look at my boobs!

M’kay, first of all, dude… Look at my boobs.

Look. Look at them.

Look. Look at them.

They’re magnificent, aren’t they?  And I mean, my boobs are pretty magnificent on any given day, but today, they’re just out of this world.

Fair warning:  I’m about to start talking clothes and fashion.  Yes, I’m a girl.  Deal with it.

There’s this clothing line, called Torrid, that makes clothes specifically designed for plus-sized women (they have a fucking Darth Vader dress!!!  I MUST FUCKING OWN IT), and that’s the only place I ever buy clothes anymore.  I ordered this bra online and just got it in today.

And of course, I couldn’t wait to try it on.  And of course, it’s freaking gorgeous.

I was hesitant to get it, simply because it’s a push-up bra, and I didn’t think I needed a push-up bra.  But, because I have a very uncommon size (38DDD, think Brandy Dean… although I think she’s a 38F, but I dunno, different sites say different things), there isn’t much out there to choose from, other than beige grandma bras.  Yeah, no thanks.

So I bought it.

And I fucking love it.  I’ve been wearing nothing but this bra and my pajama shorts all evening.  And I’ve been trying to clean the living room, but I keep having to stop and look at my boobs.  Because they’re amazing.

But then again, everything I’ve gotten from Torrid looks amazing.  I love that they’re designed specifically for plus-sized women, rather than tacking on plus sizes as an afterthought.  And that’s not often flattering.

And seriously, just because I’m plus-size doesn’t mean I don’t care a whole fucking lot about fashion, and what I wear.  Just because I’m plus-size doesn’t mean I don’t know that gingham, black-and-white, gladiator sandals, denim, fringe, nautical theme, and monochromatic red are in right now.  I don’t obsess over Fashion Week the way I used to, but I still follow the shit on the internet.  Haute-Couture Paris?  That shit just ended yesterday, and you know I was all about it.

Do you want to know which shoes to wear with skinny jeans?  Want to know which style of sunglasses are super hot this summer?  Want to know how to properly balance your silhouette?  Want to know when the next Fashion Week is?  I’ve got you covered, girl.

So I love places that actually put some damn work into making plus-size clothes, and keeping up with current fashion trends.  I look damn good everywhere I go, and I expect clothing retailers to keep up with my tastes.

Pausing, Strippers, and Fireworks

So kazander and I still have a lot of stuff to talk about.  We already had one discussion about it, which I’ll write in a later post, but we’ve got family in town for the 4th, we’ve got his best friend sleeping on our couch, and we just haven’t been able to get away and discuss it.

So we’re on pause.  And we’re not playing or doing anything sexual until we figure it out.

But in the meantime, life goes on.  It doesn’t do me any good to hold on to my anger, and it doesn’t do him any good to hold on to his.  So we let it go, and go about our day.

Yesterday, we went with a couple of his coworkers to a strip club.

I love strip clubs.  I love dancers.  It’s all kinds of awesome.

I was devastated when I found out that SS is no longer dancing, and is now a house mom.  Ah, memories.  But I love when kazander makes all of his friends jealous by telling them about the time I got her to give him a blowjob.

But she’s not dancing anymore, and I don’t have my own personal stripper anymore.

Yes, yes it does

Yes, yes it does

So we went to a different club, a newer one.  This one is topless, rather than the fully nude of our old club, but still awesome.

Yes, yes they are

Yes, yes they are

So we were enjoying ourselves, and getting mildly shitfaced.  They had happy hour until 8 pm (we got there at 7) where bottled beer is a dollar, and well liquor is free.

Like, free free.

No catch.  Unlimited alcohol.  For free.

Unlimited free alcohol and unlimited boobies?  Please and thank you.

Both of kazander’s coworkers tapped out before midnight (the pussies) and one of them may or may not be wrapped around a light pole in a crumpled pile of twisted metal as we speak.  Hey, we offered to give him a ride.  We flat-out told him to get his ass in my car, and I’d drive him home.  But he refused (most likely because he told his wife that he was going to a restaurant with other coworkers, and she would probably have some questions about why his car isn’t there in the morning… I hope he’s okay, but he’s an idiot for lying to her.  Especially since he went to the atm multiple times and took out large amounts of money, and it’s going to cause problems when she sees the statement.).

So we got to talking to this gorgeous, Barbie-doll girl from Wisconsin.  Seriously, she was stunning.  Long blond hair, a young, round face, bubbly personality, and a beautiful smile.

And she, unlike many of the girls at this particular club, didn’t try to hustle us.  We had quite a few girls come up to us throughout the night, asking kazander to buy them a drink, or asking if he wants a lap dance.  I had one girl ask me, and when I told her no, she grabbed my hand and tried to pull me out of my chair.

It’s annoying, but expected, I guess.  But I’ll never want a dance or anything from a girl who doesn’t at least pretend to take an interest in me.  Tits and ass are common as hell.  All you have to do is walk down the Strip in the summer and you’ll see thousands of girls dressed in skimpy clothes, with their tits hanging out.  Hell, all I need to do is look in the mirror.

I need the personality.  I need the conversation, the actual human connection.  I want to see her as more than a stripper, and I want her to see me as more than an atm.

And Barbie was perfect.  I offered to send kazander to the bar to get her a drink a couple of minutes into the conversation, and she asked for a glass of champagne.

And we continued talking for a bit longer.  I was seriously impressed that she didn’t ask to give me a dance or anything.  So I asked her after about twenty minutes, and ended up getting three from her before we left.

So she’s awesome.  I’d love to go back and see her.

There’s another dancer kazander met a few weeks ago, when he went there on his own with some coworkers.  She happens to have a daughter right around the spawn’s age, so they immediately connected and talked for quite awhile about her daughter and our daughter.  He ended up giving her my number, and we arranged a playdate for the girls.

And she’s awesome, too.  Dark hair, dark eyes, pale skin, and a kick-ass, sarcastic personality.  I definitely enjoyed hanging out with her.  And all of my mom friends are so far on the conservative side, it’s like we’re not even the same species.  I felt like I could be more myself with her.  It was a blast.

So she’s coming over tomorrow for the 4th.  And that’ll be fun.  We always go fucking crazy for the 4th.  We have the big house and the 3/4 acre of land, so there’s room for a lot of people.  And we’ve got the pool and the grill.  It’s always fun.

Oh, and we always drive out to the reservation and spend about $400 on fireworks (the big ones, not the ones you buy at those little shacks on the side of the road).  This year we spent $450.

There’s a big empty lot right across the street from our house, so we arrange all the chairs in the driveway and set them off in the desert.  And we’ve got a nice view of the Strip, as well, so there’s that awesome show.

So yeah, boobs and fireworks are awesome.  I’m totally ready for tomorrow.