manda

Aug 18
Manda to LTrain:
I'll be okay, they're just ovaries, after all.
LTrain to Manda:
Yeah, but ovaries can be bitches.

So true.

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Aug 12
I went to High School today. Just being back in that building made my skin clammy and my chest tight. It was seriously hard to breathe. Also, washed my truck. She's pretty now I still need a job. A good one. Anyone have any suggestions? Anyone?

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Aug 8
(From Fingersmith by Sarah Waters)

'Go to sleep.' she says. Her voice is thick.
I feel my legs, very bare inside my gown. I feel the point at which they join. I feel the words, still swarming. The warmth of her limbs comes inching, inching through the fibres of the bed.
I say, 'I'm afraid...'
Then her breathing changes. Her voice grows clearer, kinder. She yawns. 'What is is?' she says. She rubs her eye. She pushes the hair back from her brow. If she were any girl but Sue! If she were Agnes! If she were a girl in a book--!
Girls love easily, there. That is their point.
Hip, lip and tongue--
'Do you think me good?' I say
'Good, miss?'
She does. It felt like a safety once. Now it feels like a trap. I say, 'I wish-- I wish you would tell me--'
'Tell you what, miss?'
Tell me. Tell me a way to save you. A way to save myself. The room is perfectly black. Hip, lip--
Girls love easily, there.
'I wish,' I say, 'I wish you would tell me what it is a wife must do, on her wedding-night...'
And at first, it is easy. After all, this is how it is done, in my uncle's books: two girls, one wise, and one unknowing... 'He will want,' she says, 'to kiss you. He will want to embrace you.' It is easy. I say my part, and she-- with a little prompting-- says hers. The words sink back upon their pages. It is easy, it is easy...
Then she rises above me and puts her mouth to mine.

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I so love this book! Also, I so love this picture, even more than this book...
My boobies, her face..