who?
eighth june | ten forty five ante meridiem
"Heineken? Fuck that shit! PABST BLUE RIBBON!"
I went to the beach with ex-gf Maenad yesterday. We broke up exactly three years ago, not because of any incompatibility, but because I was graduating and planning to move away. We weren't in love, but during our short time together, and for awhile after, I was completely, totally sexually obsessed with her (and I think her with me, too). Some relationships are very tender and supportive, some cloying and comfortable; this one was like a David Lynch movie with all of the subtly repressed violence and outlandish urges totally swallowed up by the bedroom and turned into play. As I said, it's been three years and we get along great now, are good friends, and that tension has mostly dissipated.
Except for yesterday when we got to the beach and she stripped to her bikini. Looking at her body a little twinge came back to me. I immediately started to worry this twinge would turn into a pang and hang over me all afternoon, and frustrate and sadden me, like keen unfulfilled desire often does. The beach at Vrgrn is clothing-optional, and true to her nature the bikini came off too. Unexpectedly, the twinge vanished. Ironically, I guess, there's something so unsexy about completely naked people, even people you've spent a great deal of time lusting after. Because nothing's left to the imagination, or the uniformity of pale white skin, or because everything droops a little more, I don't know. Total nakedness is just so... casual, and seemingly ordinary, like nothing special, even when it should be. So I was glad, and the day turned out to be a lot of fun.
It also turned out to be another sign that I am old. Afterwards she and a few of her friends who'd come with us (people I'd once known and liked too, but had lost track of) were going to a bar and then on to a party or two to celebrate the end of classes for the year. I declined and went home; two years ago it would've been inconceivable to me to not finish a day of sun and saltwater with copious quantities of alcohol and fun people and pretty girls. But all I could think about was getting home to rest my sunburned muscles and drink tea and watch Humphrey Bogart movies. Movie, I mean, and not even that, since my aged brain gave out halfway through and I fell asleep. I had my first work-related dream, in which my boss gave me (and 21 other random ephemeral people not in my section) an assignment to write short stories in pairs, taking the opposite POV from our partner. I spend the day with naked college girls, and I end up dreaming about homework. NERD! OLD NERD!