June 2, 2008 Monday

During the school year, it’s possible to wear shorts and tanks, maybe a skirt, and be able to walk around campustown without anyone seeming to notice. But I felt good about myself. Now that the heat is turning up and these clothes are very much necessary to keep from sweating all fluid out of my body, the men still hanging around during the summer sessions let me know how they feel about my running shorts, presumably because most of the actual skanks are no longer here to be drooled after. This feeling would be describing their pant locale.

“Hey baby, you looking mighty fine with those legs of yours.” Thank you. My legs know how to kick your face into your brain if you get close enough. The whistles and cat calls do not put a spring in my step; they make me feel like an object without a brain.

At least it makes me not want to lose weight.