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schmericaNow that I just finished my eight hours, I have exactly thirteen days left of work, and less than four weeks till my first day of classes.
My book order from Amazon.com is scheduled to arrive either this afternoon or tomorrow.
Today I wore my kicky new skirt: it is black with tiny lavender polka dots and it is adorable and flippy and sweet and I love it.
The last hour and a half work slowed down to a crawl and I stared at my computer pretending to be busy and thought about pornography.
(Yeah, shut up.)
I'm not sure whether thinking of pornography made me think of Fraser or if thinking of Fraser made me think of pornography, but either way I found myself thinking about a young Fraser discovering Victorian erotica as his introduction. Sneaking the books, of course (perhaps even from his grandparents' library; I have trouble imagining a book collection with absolutely nothing like that, I find). They'd be respectable and classic seeming on the outside, but then inside: old-fashioned, strange, flowery, dirty. Frightening, too, I imagine.
(I'm still kind of freaked out remember some of the scenes from Fanny Hill, for that matter. Because ... ow.)
I think I shall go catch my bus home now. I give you even odds I will think about porn yet some more on my way home.
My book order from Amazon.com is scheduled to arrive either this afternoon or tomorrow.
Today I wore my kicky new skirt: it is black with tiny lavender polka dots and it is adorable and flippy and sweet and I love it.
The last hour and a half work slowed down to a crawl and I stared at my computer pretending to be busy and thought about pornography.
(Yeah, shut up.)
I'm not sure whether thinking of pornography made me think of Fraser or if thinking of Fraser made me think of pornography, but either way I found myself thinking about a young Fraser discovering Victorian erotica as his introduction. Sneaking the books, of course (perhaps even from his grandparents' library; I have trouble imagining a book collection with absolutely nothing like that, I find). They'd be respectable and classic seeming on the outside, but then inside: old-fashioned, strange, flowery, dirty. Frightening, too, I imagine.
(I'm still kind of freaked out remember some of the scenes from Fanny Hill, for that matter. Because ... ow.)
I think I shall go catch my bus home now. I give you even odds I will think about porn yet some more on my way home.
