Effluvia

Effluvia

So Beijing has been awarded the 2008 Summer Olympics. That should be around the time President Lieberman is seeking reelection, I guess.

I remember watching the live announcement of Athens as the host of the 2004 Games on TV four years ago. Unfortunately, the announcement was kind of overshadowed by other things — namely, Mother Teresa dying that same day, and conductor Georg Solti, too. And an hour earlier, Queen Elizabeth had just made a rare live television address. It was during that long, long week between Princess Diana’s death and funeral. So Athens being awarded the 2004 Olympics sort of fell through the cracks. I still have a tape of CNN from that day. “Let’s go live to the United Kingdom… let’s go live to Athens… let’s go live to Calcutta…” Whew. It made me dizzy.

Athens 2004… Beijing 2008… New York 2012?

In other news, it turns out that my parents saw Follies the same night that Blogstalker did. I can’t believe Blogstalker was in the same room as my parents. I’m just glad they didn’t recognize each other. Not that my parents even know I have an online journal. Still, I can just picture it: So, Charlie, we hear you took our son to a gay sex club. That’s nice. How was it?

Tomorrow there’s a Twentysomething trip to Fire Island. I think I might go. There are just a couple of concerns I have. One, I hope there’s a bathroom on the train, because it will be the morning, and… well, I never trust my stomach in the morning. So many times has it betrayed my trust. Two, there’s the whole back thing. I don’t have a hairless back. I figure I should get over that, but I know it’s gonna make me incredibly self-conscious anyway. Still, in some ways it seems weird to make an issue out of something so silly. Even though I’m already doing it anyway. Even though I shouldn’t. Even though I am. Even though I shouldn’t. Even though I am.

I have little else to write about today. Maybe I’ll attend another show tonight. We’ll see.

Enjoy your weekend…

6 thoughts on “Effluvia

  1. Ew, no no no no no. Shaving’s the worst. If you shave it it’ll just grow back coarser than before. You have to wax it.

    Just for the record, I want to point out that we’re not talking about a thick lawn of hair all over my back or anything. But it’s still there.

  2. Your parents were so cute. I remember your mom asking me if I was a top or a bottom. It’s too bad they had to leave at intermission, ’cause I figured I’d take them to The Lure for an after-theatre drink. Next time…

    About this back thing: call the Service Station on Eighth Ave, or The Beach on Christopher and get a waxing appointment for this evening. Do it now. Not that there’s anything wrong with back hair, sometimes I enjoy it, but if it’s gonna get in your way of enjoying tomorrow, then do something about it.

    Oh yeah, be sure to visit The Enchanted Forest on Fire Island. There’s free theatre tickets and ice cream hidden in the trees, you just have to feel around for them…

  3. Free theatre tickets and ice cream hidden in the trees? Why does this sound like “Sit on my lap, little boy, and I’ll give you candy…”

    Not that there’s anything wrong with that. My little Left Coast brain is just all a-twitter at the idea of what kind of, um, suckers one might find in an enchanted forest on Fire Island… I’m hoping you’ll post pictures. Oh, to be male…

  4. gosh, another emergency backwaxing before going to Fire Island! If you can’t get to Service Station (or afford it) just remember to stay wet. Body hair looks great wet, glistening in the sun. All my old boyfriends said I looked better wet, as they kept dunking me back in the water over and over again – I learned how to hold my breath for up to 14 minutes that way……

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