bra Archives · I Will Dare

The phone call and the bra

Jodi Chromey — Tue, 12 Jun 2007 14:07:20 +0000

I was gently slumbering (ok not really, because that whore 6:30 a.m. came to visit and at 7 a.m. I decided I was going to take a mini-nap or something just to show 6:30 a.m. that I am not messing around with my faithfulness to 7:30 a.m.), when the sweet, sweet jangly guitar bits of “I Will Dare” came floating through the air.

Of course, I immediately freaked out because that’s my phone ringing and only something terrible would cause someone to call before the much-loved time of 7:30 a.m. I lunged for the phone (which got named Spike because when I plug it in to Jed (my iBook) it came up NONAME and that little NONAME is the saddest thing in all the world), and pressed it to my nose to see (I didn’t have time to put on my glasses) if I could figure out who was dead or maimed by what came up on the caller ID.

It was Seamus. Wha? So I slid open Spike and was greeted by the static strains of “Paradise City” by Guns N Roses. I fell back against the pillows and smiled. Seamus always calls me (Paradise City and Sweet Child O’Mine) or Al, the cutest girl on earth™ (Welcome to the Jungle) whenever a Guns N Roses song comes on the radio. Usually we just get the staticy radio song on our voice mail. I just happened to answer this time.

I love that he does this. It is his most endearing trait, really. It’s just a nice, sweet thing that makes you feel special and thought about, even before 7:30 a.m.

Also, and this has nothing to do with the phone call, I bought new bras and I put one on this morning — a simple black lace deal and while I was putting it on I noticed it had these dorky little black bows on each of the straps and one right in the middle. All I could think was, “Really you think we need this kind of decoration? We don’t need no stinking black, goth bows.”

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As her colors fade away or, another post about my bra

Jodi Chromey — Thu, 25 Jan 2007 01:32:43 +0000

I’ve been a bit down in the dumps lately. It’s January and I’m a Minnesotan. I’m legally required to be down in the dumps at this time of year.

Since I’ve been so sad and insecure and nearly descending into the pits of the mean reds, I decided to pull out some old favorites today — my comfort clothes. Usually I put about a nanosecond of thought into what I’m going to where for the day. But today’s ensemble took effort, foresight, and some digging.

I started by plunging into the depths of the bra bin for my very favorite of all time Orangey the orange bra. Yes, I’ve been so down that I opted to spend the day with lopsided breasts. Not that you could really see them under my very favorite Paul Westerberg t-shirt, my Marthon Shirt and one more sweatshirt for good measure. I also wore the jeans with the green paint on them, because they’re most comfy.

Sure I looked like a still-drunk freshman at her 8 a.m. mythology class, but that seemed like a small price to pay to feel comfortable and secure all day.

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My bra is coming off

Jodi Chromey — Sat, 13 Jan 2007 15:48:03 +0000

There’s a scene in “Thelma and Louise” where Geena Davis talks about how she’s gonna let loose and she says all southern-like “My hair is comin’ down.” Eventually she has sex with Brad Pitt and then drives off a cliff.

I’m doing the same thing today, without the sex and the cliff driving. I can’t wait. I’m giddy with the prospects of not having to talk to a single person, shake a single hand, laugh at a lame co-worker joke, or having to wear a bra (unless you want to come over and have sex, then I’ll get all dolled up).

After spending roughly 23 of the last 48 hours working in some fashion, I’m burned to a crisp. The meetings went well and the dinner was fun, but after so much time spent being social I start to short circuit. I need a lot of alone time to get my head in order and charge the batteries. This is one of the reasons why I make the worst girlfriend ever.

Despite my plans to veg, I have a lot of work to do. The work posse is having a giant “24” premiere party at Seamus’ house. I have a lot of catching up to do, since I’m the only 24-neophyte in the bunch. My goal it to watch all of Season 5 by Sunday night.

I got a lot of work ahead of me, and all of it can be done sans-bra.

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exotic women’s underthings

Jodi Chromey — Mon, 16 Jan 2006 18:59:32 +0000

the song “favorite” by liz phair just came up on Kathleen Turner Overdrive. it’s a song where liz compares her boyfriend/lover to her favorite pair of underwear. and the singing of underwear reminded me of this morning, when i was getting dressed. as i put on a pair of red-satin jobbers, i thought of “high fidelity.” the scene where rob throws laura’s underpants across the room because he used to dream about being surrounded by exotic women’s underthings but now he knows they only save their best pair for the night they know they’re gonna sleep with someone.

because well, as i was slipping on the red pair, i realized that i totally need to do laundry because i’m down to the ‘get laid’ underpants. not that they’ve seen the light of day in like 39 years. but, well, you know what i mean.

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thanksgiving break, day 2: let’s get slackalactic

Jodi Chromey — Tue, 22 Nov 2005 20:56:25 +0000

it is 3:56. i have yet to get out of my pajama-like clothes. i have not had a bra on since like 7 p.m. last night. it’s wonderful. i am sad to report, however, that i am much dumber now then i was 7 last night. why? because i watched days of our lives. i will never be the same again.

tonight i am going over to al’s with seamus to take pictures of my typewriter. i am so excited i might pee my pants. which is ok, because i haven’t even taken a shower yet.

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