Last Friday I found myself facing a weekend in the city with no plan in sight. So I did the obvious thing: asked L. what she was doing. Turns out she was going up to Hudson for Saturday afternoon but encouraged me to hang with her upon her return. So I did. We actually met up with T. and J., and later C. and a bunch of people I didn't know, and sat in the general area of a free Sonic Youth concert in Prospect Park. I reminded J. that he owes me a drawing, though I forget why, only that I was disappointed that I didn't have it. And T. and I caught up on a myriad of topics, mainly girls and boys and life, which was very good as well. After the concert, which we couldn't see nor really hear (and, apropos of nothing, I think the concept of valet bicycle parking is taking it too far NYC), we headed our separate ways. I met back up with L., Fat T. and their friend S. for pizza. It was good, not the best pizza ever, but good to put into my body after mooching beer from T. and J. without much in my belly.
Then we went to
Commonwealth and sat around drinking and taking too many photographs.
It was at this establishment some time last year that I was introduced to the concept of sweet tea and bourbon, they still do it very nicely.
So, I've taken to wearing shirts and dresses that feature my cleavage. I have ample cleavage, and in the right bra I think it can look right good, and so this summer I haven't been shy about sharing it. I sometimes feel a little self-conscious and I think there is one dress I'll really just need to stop wearing, but on the whole my mantra has become 'I am just shaking what my mama gave me, and what's wrong with that?' Fat T. found my cleavage very distracting. L. told him to stop looking, I said let's take a photograph before you stop looking. I don't know what to say, I don't really want people to look, but I do know that a nice rack takes one's attention from a gut...and I have one of those. I'm giving away the secrets of the universe in this post.
In this one I'm pointing to Fat. T.'s wedding ring, but the glass obscures this fact.
I like this photograph of L. and myself.
We took a few more, but S. managed to get, on purpose, his hand into pretty much every shot. Though I'm still a little unclear as to what is going on with our faces.
L.'s getting sensual in this one.
I'm in Tennessee right now, and my father commented on this very shirt and its level of exposure, and I explained my perspective (shaking what I got, belly acknowledgement prevention) and the man sitting next to us couldn't help but laugh, and I turned to him and said 'well it's true' and he agreed. So, I'm not crazy. Just lacking in a filter. Thanks to all for the good times!
Then we went to Commonwealth and sat around drinking and taking too many photographs.
It was at this establishment some time last year that I was introduced to the concept of sweet tea and bourbon, they still do it very nicely.
So, I've taken to wearing shirts and dresses that feature my cleavage. I have ample cleavage, and in the right bra I think it can look right good, and so this summer I haven't been shy about sharing it. I sometimes feel a little self-conscious and I think there is one dress I'll really just need to stop wearing, but on the whole my mantra has become 'I am just shaking what my mama gave me, and what's wrong with that?' Fat T. found my cleavage very distracting. L. told him to stop looking, I said let's take a photograph before you stop looking. I don't know what to say, I don't really want people to look, but I do know that a nice rack takes one's attention from a gut...and I have one of those. I'm giving away the secrets of the universe in this post.
In this one I'm pointing to Fat. T.'s wedding ring, but the glass obscures this fact.
I like this photograph of L. and myself.
We took a few more, but S. managed to get, on purpose, his hand into pretty much every shot. Though I'm still a little unclear as to what is going on with our faces.
L.'s getting sensual in this one.
I'm in Tennessee right now, and my father commented on this very shirt and its level of exposure, and I explained my perspective (shaking what I got, belly acknowledgement prevention) and the man sitting next to us couldn't help but laugh, and I turned to him and said 'well it's true' and he agreed. So, I'm not crazy. Just lacking in a filter. Thanks to all for the good times!
No comments:
Post a Comment