As far as I know, I'm the only sexblogger in my circle to start over with their blog completely on Tumblr, but if it works for Katie West I think I'll get by. I've hated Blogger's templates and interface for a long time now, and I think the change will help me write more and better. If you already have a Tumblr, go ahead and friend me--if you don't, you can add me to your RSS feed. I've set it up with the Disqus commenting system, so even people who don't have Tumblr accounts can comment!
Showing posts with label moving. Show all posts
Showing posts with label moving. Show all posts
Sunday, October 18, 2009
Update Your Bookmarks!
Stuffies has moved! From now on I'll be posting my thoughts on feederism and real-life sexcapades on Tumblr:
Thursday, August 28, 2008
Molly Has Moved
No, this website will not be moving to its own domain name any time soon. I mean an IRL type moving. I, Molly Ren, packed up all of my meager possessions into boxes and moved out of The Mansion. I now have a room in a different part of town, fewer housemates, and, most shocking of all, a new part time job.
The move was stressful, to say the least. Q. came to help, and I greeted her arrival with the kind of "I'm helpless but I resent your being here" kind of spats that I don't remember having when I was the correct age to have them (i.e. middle or high school.) I was depressed about my future with The Colt, my lack of direction in life, and the fact that, when my only supplies consisted of canned food, we had forgotten to purchase a can opener. (One of my new housemates saved the day with a hammer and a screwdriver.)
My (private) bathroom is in the basement. It's been newly renovated into a living room-style space, but there's still a pile of antique junk in the corner. It was on my first tour of my new home that I realized this pile of junk contained several lamp stands in whimsical shapes--one of them being a naked lady posed atop a horse. No artsy half-clad nude this, but a full-frontal lady Godiva at least a foot tall, smiling happily.
Despite my recent temper tantrums, I'd say this is a good omen for my new place.
The move was stressful, to say the least. Q. came to help, and I greeted her arrival with the kind of "I'm helpless but I resent your being here" kind of spats that I don't remember having when I was the correct age to have them (i.e. middle or high school.) I was depressed about my future with The Colt, my lack of direction in life, and the fact that, when my only supplies consisted of canned food, we had forgotten to purchase a can opener. (One of my new housemates saved the day with a hammer and a screwdriver.)
My (private) bathroom is in the basement. It's been newly renovated into a living room-style space, but there's still a pile of antique junk in the corner. It was on my first tour of my new home that I realized this pile of junk contained several lamp stands in whimsical shapes--one of them being a naked lady posed atop a horse. No artsy half-clad nude this, but a full-frontal lady Godiva at least a foot tall, smiling happily.
Despite my recent temper tantrums, I'd say this is a good omen for my new place.
Tuesday, August 19, 2008
So I'm Moving
It's nice accommodations: a room of my own with internet access. It's white. It's not too small. There's a place to do laundry downstairs.
I am pissed.
I am not moving outside of my little tiny town. I'm still in Littletown, USA, just in a different part.
Well, says Q., at least this will galvanize you into working "every waking moment" to find something better.
Why do such eminently reasonable things always give me the urge to yell "FUCK YOU!" down the phone, no matter the cost of it later?
I am pissed.
I am not moving outside of my little tiny town. I'm still in Littletown, USA, just in a different part.
Well, says Q., at least this will galvanize you into working "every waking moment" to find something better.
Why do such eminently reasonable things always give me the urge to yell "FUCK YOU!" down the phone, no matter the cost of it later?
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