Thursday 29 June 2006

Pic of the day: Picture from real life, which is famous for being stranger than fiction. Your fiction may vary.

PJs, my ass

In this house, my front door is locked with a key, whether you lock it from inside or outside. As some of you may know, this was not the case where I lived before. The key was only necessary from the outside, there. This had its own problems sometimes. Here, however, the worst case scenario is that I may have to suddenly evacuate directly from my sleep, without retrieving my key (for instance if the bedroom is filled with smoke). If so, would I be able to get out through this bathroom window?

At first glance this seems unlikely, since my hips look to be just slightly wider than the window. And they are bones all the way, honestly! Well, practically.

When I lost up to 15% of my body mass from April to January, my backside was reduced to bone and some muscle. When I regained half that weight after I moved in here, it all settled on my stomach. My backside is still as broad as ever, but flatter than in some of the older pictures. Well, it may be mostly the thighs, I guess. They really don't fill out my pajamas bottom well these days. Not that this is a major concern of mine, but... It would have been far more healthy to put the weight there instead of on my upper body, where it is virtually toxic. As late as in high school, I still had flabby thighs, despite weighing less than now. But this changed over time. Now my thighs are practically pure muscle. And I doubt my doctor would approve of adding a small supplement of female hormones to restore a more healthy fat distribution. (Though you never know, it would presumably also give me real breasts. This is the doctor I contact about heart irregularities one year and bronchitis the next and in each case ends up studying my breasts. Clearly we do have different priorities, he and I.)

OK, so perhaps I should simply not put on more weight in the first place. But the fact remain, my hips are always going to be this broad. It was an irreversible decision by confused genes during puberty. "Just relax, we're gonna shape you into quite a nice looking girl given some time. What? What do you mean, you're a boy? Oh man. Hope you don't mind that we already gave you your mother's hips. We'll stop working on the breasts though. Right away Sir!"

But the picture does not tell the whole truth. Although it is not edited in any other way, it is cut. Unlike in my previous domicile, this window is noticeably taller than it is broad. Also, it is not far up from the bathtub, so I can still stand on my feet while crawling out. This allows me to turn partly sideways and utilize the extra height to slide through. The landing is somewhat more challenging, but there is a thin metal handrail that I can cling to so I don't fall with my head first.

Actually getting back in is more of a problem, as the window is further up on the wall seen from outside, and the railing to the side is too thin to balance on and too far to the side. But I would presumably not have any time pressure at that point. I did not go any further than this today, at least not that way. I also checked some other windows, but they seemed less suited. The ones in the basement would work in a pinch, they are low but broad, but they are really high on the wall from inside, above face height. This is bad enough climbing out. Entering would be very risky indeed. Not that I would do that, since the student house owner still has the basement. (In fact, he's coming home today.)

***

Unfortunately, while being outside at 3AM, I somehow ran into a multitude of voracious insects. They bit my hand (and on exactly the spot between the hand and the wrist that I rest on my keyboard's wristpad!), they bit my ankles, and mysteriously two of them even managed to bite my ass, through the clothes! Honestly, I did not take my clothes off outside. But I did take them off to inpect the mosquito bites. No pictures though. I don't believe in advancing our relationship quite that fast!

Or perhaps a couple mosquitoes followed me in. Worse even, they could have found the secret entrance that the bees use to get into my bedroom. (Only seen those two bees, though. I guess there was never sent another rescue expedition. Well, there was one in my kitchen too, but I think it came in somewhere else.) I am sure I have mentioned my habit going back to at least my teen years, that I sleep curled up on one side; and often as not in the morning I wake up with my backside outside the bed covers and the rest of me inside. Because of the summer heat I sleep naked, so the mosquitoes would have an all-you-can-eat feast. That would certainly explain it, but I did not have any such bites before this night.

Oh, and I did mention that the young, handsome student who grew up in this house will be living downstairs this summer, right? This starts to look like one of those gay novels my friend and NaNoWriMo rival Tsaiko dabbles in. (Why lesbians are obsessed with gay fiction is a mystery to me. Perhaps it is their suppressed interest in men that is making itself felt, or something. Or perhaps gays are just inherently funny, although I don't think they would agree on that.)

As for me, however, I may or may not be funny, but I don't really post my (less and less frequent) butt pics for my gay readers. Do I even have gay readers? Not that have told me. I do have female readers though, so obviously I should do unto them what I'd want them to do unto me... OK, there just may be exceptions to the Golden Rule here. Actually only one of my readers has given me butt pics, but then again those were totally naked and very... posed. You know, you really don't need to do that to keep my interest. Same for another friend who sent me pictures of her breasts. You know, I really can't reciprocate that!

Actually, I'm trying to be funny here, not sexy. Although I am being told that getting pictures of women in various states of undress is a common side effect of fame for men. (For women the effects are generally less benign and more benighted.) I even read recently a lengthy article from WIE (What Is Enlightenment) titled "Women who sleep with their gurus (and why they love it)" The female writer had interviewed a number of women who had slept with their officially celibate and highly enlightened gurus. While the gurus were not particularly good in bed, they were good at making the women feel special. I suppose I could do that too, but it does not seem like a fair trade. After all, my female friends ARE special.

And anyway, I doubt I'll receive much guru worship if I keep inserting entries like this now and then. Which is as it should be: You should never accept anything I say out of respect for me, only out of respect for yourself.

But if you do feel the urge to send me pictures, I recommend you follow my example and put on at least a pair of jammies. I sleep quite little enough as is, thank you.