Can God make bad people good?
◊ Today I learned that spiky bracelets and stockings do not mix well. Stockings make a fascinating sound when they snag, a bit like tearing in half the $5 bill you're going to have to shell out for replacements.
After running out for stockings (hah! a pun) I discovered I can actually hitch stockings to my garter belt when I'm seated in my car. I'm not saying I can do it modestly; anyone standing near the hood or driver's-side window would get quite a show. But I can do it. My pride in this new skill was tempered by a feeling of intense silliness as I fished around under my short skirt for what I knew was a garter hook but what everyone else would probably think was semi-public masturbation.
When I dress like a tart (down to the thong with "tart" written on the front, not that it's visible) and I am not near a bar, guys near me do not stare so much as look at me, try to stop their eyes widening, then stare fixedly at the ground. Surveys indicate that I am at least reasonably attractive, so I don't think it's a disgust-based reaction, but more of a classic suburban "Omigod I can't get caught staring" kind of thing. I like walking past them and seeing their heads immediately point downward, like ducks sticking their heads underwater to look for food.
Oh, and a church near Owen's work has a big fucking banner out front that says "Can God make bad people good?" on it. For legal purposes, I am informing everyone that no way would we sneak out to it in the middle of the night with hedge clippers in order to liberate it so it can live happily in a better, safer place.
Namely, my living room wall.