I hate running about as much as I hate making small talk about pets, but I ran this weekend, and I liked it. My legs are sore, and I like that, too. It reminds me of when I worked at the museum and stood there in a rental suit and got my nose dirty in other people's business. I had to say no a lot, and I hate saying no. There were other good guards who liked saying no. There were no guards who looked good in their suits. I had no idea about anyone's body shape, but there was this one guy who had a big, beautiful writing desk of an ass, and he stretched that nasty pant fabric as far as it would go.
My body is going through changes. I stretched my arms over my head the other day, and my friend said, "Do I see muscles?" This is fun because I've never had muscles. Now I have a few. I put a tank top in the rotation, and it got me a few good stares from this hot guy at the Indian buffet. We can blame the holiday. Fireworks look like electric pubes, and everyone was in the mood.
Josh's birthday was yesterday, too. The highlight of that was walking around the neighborhood last night and smelling the fireworks. The trees were too tall to see anything, but Josh loves the smell of fireworks, so happy birthday Josh.
I have some stories coming out this summer. You'll read them or you won't. They'll be there anyway.
My family is getting together in Virginia this weekend. There's no way it'll happen for me to be there this year, and that's a real shame. The Missouri River has nothing on the James River.
Once, when I was afraid of my body, I wore a white polo shirt to cover my belly at the beach. I was in the direct sun, and it was so hot. I was keeping an eye on my cousins while my grandmother took a break under the trees. My cousins wanted to walk down the beach, and I said they could go as long as they didn't go too far. They went too far. I couldn't see them anymore. I looked back to the parking lot. My grandmother was smoking and sitting on a rock wall and reading a book.
The beach was on the James River. A replica colonial ship was coming in to dock. The ship had cannons. I was scared I'd really messed up, but my cousins came back, and they were fine. They'd picked up some crab claws and wanted to keep them as souvenirs. I said no. I said they'd fall apart and start to smell.
My cousins wanted me to swim after lunch. I kept my shirt on and said it was because I didn't want to burn. We went to a lake later that week, and there was a guy who finally convinced me to take my shirt off. He said it was too hot for me to be wearing heavy cotton. I couldn't see his eyes behind his sunglasses. I could just see the puddle of my belly reflected back at me. There are pictures on Facebook. You can see me pale and happy to be in the dirty water. You can see me drunk and wincing, soft and shirtless in the sun.
My body is going through changes. I stretched my arms over my head the other day, and my friend said, "Do I see muscles?" This is fun because I've never had muscles. Now I have a few. I put a tank top in the rotation, and it got me a few good stares from this hot guy at the Indian buffet. We can blame the holiday. Fireworks look like electric pubes, and everyone was in the mood.
Josh's birthday was yesterday, too. The highlight of that was walking around the neighborhood last night and smelling the fireworks. The trees were too tall to see anything, but Josh loves the smell of fireworks, so happy birthday Josh.
I have some stories coming out this summer. You'll read them or you won't. They'll be there anyway.
My family is getting together in Virginia this weekend. There's no way it'll happen for me to be there this year, and that's a real shame. The Missouri River has nothing on the James River.
Once, when I was afraid of my body, I wore a white polo shirt to cover my belly at the beach. I was in the direct sun, and it was so hot. I was keeping an eye on my cousins while my grandmother took a break under the trees. My cousins wanted to walk down the beach, and I said they could go as long as they didn't go too far. They went too far. I couldn't see them anymore. I looked back to the parking lot. My grandmother was smoking and sitting on a rock wall and reading a book.
The beach was on the James River. A replica colonial ship was coming in to dock. The ship had cannons. I was scared I'd really messed up, but my cousins came back, and they were fine. They'd picked up some crab claws and wanted to keep them as souvenirs. I said no. I said they'd fall apart and start to smell.
My cousins wanted me to swim after lunch. I kept my shirt on and said it was because I didn't want to burn. We went to a lake later that week, and there was a guy who finally convinced me to take my shirt off. He said it was too hot for me to be wearing heavy cotton. I couldn't see his eyes behind his sunglasses. I could just see the puddle of my belly reflected back at me. There are pictures on Facebook. You can see me pale and happy to be in the dirty water. You can see me drunk and wincing, soft and shirtless in the sun.