enthusiastic nonathletes, my father and i made it to the pool on the one overcast day in recent memory and headed straight for the powerblue and creme chaise lounge to read (me) and table on which to spread the times + crossword puzzle (him.) sedaris's me talk pretty one day, which liz leant me yesterday, kept me laughing for two hours. i took breaks now and then to people watch, marveling at the fact that, with the exception of the underutilized and over-muscled lifeguards, i was the youngest post-puberty person around and a contender for lightest, yet i was wearing the most modest swimsuit.
this forced renewed consideration on the topic of bikinis. sure, society says you should be sarah jessica parker or else wear a t-shirt (and please god, not a white one), but how much does it really matter? none of the leathery matrons and matriarchs around me seemed to care. if they aren't going to let a little extra tummy fat or a couple spare tires scare them into hiding, it shouldn't bother me. examining my conscience, i can't tell whether it bothers me or not, but i certainly notice. it's society, man. it has its hooks in us deeper than we know.
Sunday, July 07, 2002
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