Wednesday, July 09, 2008


anyone who's ever lived with me for long can attest to the fact i'm a tad too comfortable in my own skin.

on a daily/hourly basis, i walk, unabashedly, by my (city apartment) windows in my underwear. or less. it took clay spelling out the stalker potential for me to curb my behavior. it just never occurred to me?

recently, in the fort worth zoo parking lot, i changed from jeans and a shirt to a dress. is that bad?

it may have started during my last two years of college. i lived in this crazy allston apartment with a rotating crew of 5 people and during the hot months, we all walked around in our underwear. i realize this sounds like some co-ed fantasy complete with pillow fights and wet t-shirts, but i swear it was devoid of anything sexual. the place was just so hot we couldn't deal with anything but the absolute bear minimum of cloth touching our delicate skins. guests would come over and we'd just wave and continue about our business, eating chips or reading a psych book.

once, my dad came over to fix a lightbulb or something, and my roommate was swiffering the kitchen floor, completely naked. when i told her a parental unit would be gracing the premises, she sighed and pulled on a t-shirt. no underwear, mind you, just a t-shirt. at the time i was annoyed, but in retrospect, i don't behave much differently.

today, my mom's friend came over to check out the wedding dress; she can't make the big day and wanted the scoop. before she arrived, i was in my usual underwear and tank top uniform, and only because i got an eye roll when i suggested staying that way, did i throw on a skirt. and i almost perished.

all of this is to say, i simply don't feel comfortable making any promises just yet about what i'll be wearing down the aisle. if it's this hot and humid come the 19th, they may just be getting an eyeful.

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