A Red Day
It was a day well spent. Overwhelmed by the almost endless amount of Birthday wishes from family and friends, it was impossible to resist the urge to paint the town red yesterday.
So then, red was my color of choice for the day and I draped myself in it--me the scarlett woman.
The emotional impact of this day was not lost on me..I cried some then laughed some. Occassionally when I had a moment to myself I contemplated the future and imagined myself at a much older age then dismissed it.
Josh focused on and staged the intimate part of the day to evoke an atmosphere of passion and romance, a day which ended on an almost cinematic, but poignant expression of devotion.
It was a day well spent and I painted the town red.
Imagined Bodies
There is no doubt that for many people a { tattoo } on the body serves as some kind of marker--identity, gender, class, race, sexuality and so forth comes to mind, and that these markers have individual, cultural, even communal meaning. In a way, I think tattoos can point out how identities develop over a period of time--for instance, in tracing my friend Josh's tattoos from the first one of a cougar on the shin of his left leg which he had engraved as a teenager, to the ying/yang sign he now sports on his right arm which he had engraved recently, (there are others also) I could probably make some interesting guesses to his state of mind or his sense of self/identity from the first tattoo to his latest.
I could be wrong of course in my guestimations, but from all our discussions, I'm pretty sure I am on the right track in terms of having some insight into how he has evolved throughout his years.
A few years ago I myself had contemplated getting a tattoo but for the life of me I never could figure out which symbol/icon best represented me in my opinion, though I highly considered the Libra scales but also, I didn't want to do it just from the sheer fact that it could be fun and that other friends were getting into body art and either had tattoos or had decided to have their bodies tattooed. And then, there was the question of where on my body did I want this symbol of my identity etched-- did I want it stored away from prying eyes or out there for everyone to see--needless to say, in the end, I decided it just wasn't my thing.
Earrings and toerings were my thing and the more unusual the design as long as they were either silver, amber or black, the better, so I just stuck with that. But getting back to tattoos, this entry came about because of a strange one I saw while riding on the train yesterday. It may not be strange to you but I almost gasped when I saw it--cat paws treading across the upper portion of a girl's boobs. They weren't tiny cat's paws which I thought would perhaps have been more cute, but large (and I take back the word "treading" I used before, for TRAMPLING seems a better description) paws trampling across her chest. I was shocked! A couple of people snickered or just glared at her as if to say, "what the hell was she thinking!"
In any case, I just figured that to her, she conceived of the cat's paws as being to some degree representative of who she is--a feline maybe, someone who is territorial maybe... who knows. All in all, it's life and we're all in it for the experience. I was otherwise reminded by how life and people are fascinating, complex and entertaining.
Guys, How Big Is Your 'Ick? N'stuff
Hmm...some geniuses have devised a new formula for the girlz to size up that potential lover before round one in the hay. Being the curious soul that I am I went ahead and checked it out to see if it was all it is cracked up to be, not that I'm an expert and such. Needless to say, the { Penis Size Calculator }has some potential. I mean, depending on how seriously you take it. It has the potential to make the naive or unwary extremely hopeful, depending on the results, or utterly disappointed. Loved the tagline:{ "How Big Is His Click" }It's fun though if you're just killing time. The whole idea behind it as suggested, is to help determine the correct sized condoms one may require based on the rendered results and, some enticing looking condoms are served up at the site too.
Oh, { News } has it that George Bush was not in the least amused when Secretary of State Colin Powell, on an MTV show, warned young people against having sex without using condoms. "This statement is absolutely opposed to the US government's official policy towards the issue. The government recommends total chastity as the best way of avoiding an unwanted pregnancy and diseases." So proclaims the voice of America's Conservatives.
On another note...I love shoes. Fetish? I guess, just as I am with toes. That said, I like all kinds of shoes and the more unusual the look the better, though the ones I find unusual, usually sport heels around 3 inches and more in height. This irks me, for being 5-11 in height myself, it ain't no joke walking around Manhattan towering over everyone else and not being able to walk straight or even steady. Worst even if you're on the train--say the #2 at rush hour speeding to its destination and you're hanging on for dear life to the hand rail while trying not to tip over, and, if you do--trying at least to tip over and God forbid! collapse in style, you know--like a lady. Phew! Hats off to { Rupaul } and others who do it gracefully and stylishly.. But hey, I still love them and when I'm in the mood I slip my feet into a pair and take off...that's what I did tonight in fact when my friend suggested, actually it was a dare, that we drop in at the gay male bar on Amsterdam Ave.
I felt up to the challenge so, and don't ask me why, but I laced up a 3 incher and with trembling legs walked smack dab into the middle of the bar with Keith, me being the only girl from what I could see. He soon ran downstairs to use the bathroom and I was close on his heels. Of course, I stopped short of entering the door he dashed into, instinct I guess, and hung about outside trying to stare casually at the photos in a corner on the wall. A few guys hanging about the doors donning bath towels around the waist walked over to observe me and I freaked out. I guess I could've said hi/hello but I suddenly felt as if I was invading a private world so, I dashed back upstairs with break-neck speed as nonchalantly and as stylishly as I could in my heels--trying not to draw further undue attention to myself. That is what I was thinking at the time but imagine the sound of the heels clicking on the tiled floors...well, I went outside to wait. Afterwards we hung about town a bit, driving around; I've mentioned that { favorite pastime } of mine, had a bite to eat and decided to call it a night. It was simply fun, all in a New York Minute.