Summer is Here: Sweaty Naked Glory

I was born without modesty. I guess we all are, but I’ve maintained it. I was a shy girl, hiding under my mother’s skirts, hiding under the booths at fast food restaurants because I called out to a friend who turned out to be a stranger (true story), but I also loved scaring my friends by jumping out naked in the locker room as we changed to swim. When the sun was out, I couldn’t help but roll as much up or down as possible to get that wonderful vitamin D all over my skin. I have so many happy memories of hiking around and stripping down whenever I spotted a sunny stream.

It wasn’t about looking good or being seen. I didn’t care. My comfort outweighed any possible fear. It’s so wonderful to be naked in the summertime.

Comfort is key — I can’t put up with anything. I couldn’t wear jeans till my teens, insisting upon an elastic waist. Tight pants and wool sweaters make me angry. In high school and even now I sometimes get in trouble for dressing too immodestly; I’m always trying to wear as little as possible. Clothes make me feel hot and bound. My main game today is a dress over yoga pants, stretchy and loose and free. When I’m home I wear nothing at all.

On Saturday, I expanded my comfort zone. For the first time, I joined Fremont’s naked bikers at the solstice parade. At 11 a.m. I met up with two friends and many, many more naked strangers at a shipyard in Ballard to paint ourselves and each other.

We started with my friend Sam, who went as the Black Swan with a painted-on leotard and a little black tutu. After Sam became swan, my friends painted eyes all over my body. I had eyes on my boobs, eyes on my thighs, a third eye on my chest and a vertical eye above my conchita. I even had winking eyes on my butt! There was a girl near me also doing eyes so we became eye friends. We took a picture together, but I won’t put it on the internet.

When I first got to the shipyard I wanted to stare at the sky, but I was fine with being naked and soon felt comfortable looking around at the crowd. The talent ranged. There were intricate patterns and a woman near me with beautifully streaked red, yellow and orange. There were artistic references and naked Santas. There were babies and grown-ups, skinny people and fat people. There was a glitter cage.

I feel like I strutted around even more proudly than usual. In the real world, I don’t know if I look good, and I don’t know if anyone is checking me out. But when everyone’s naked, everyone’s awkward parts are showing and if anyone checks someone out they’re a perv. So I felt good. I felt safe. I felt free.

At noon or maybe 1, I don’t know — I was hungry and hadn’t had coffee and more suddenly than had planned was naked and painted and didn’t know how to get back to the outside world — we left. There were a lot of people on bikes: thousands. We left in waves, biking thru Ballard screaming and coming to slooow down when we neared the Ballard bridge. There were a lot of us. We clogged the roads. We stood still for a while, entombed in the mass of ourself.

There were boom boxes. There were pulls off bottles. I smelled weed but never saw it.

Balancing precariously, one foot on the pedal, one foot pawing the earth, we trickled toward Fremont. We took the streets. For a second or two I wanted to race ahead, jump on the Burke and beat everyone to the parade, but then I realized that wasn’t the point. We moved slow. And then there were breakaways, waves. We were off.

From Ballard on there were crowds cheering. I loved cheering back. But there were some times when smiling felt like work. You’re saying naked isn’t enough?! Stoic face, frowning face, covered in eyes.

I did smile for every camera. Staring into the lens, probably more comfortable than I usually feel for photos.

A lot of people took two laps, but I wanted a hot dog. I went to Gasworks and suddenly was alone. The only naked person in sight. I felt like a pervert but I was comfortable and riding high so I persevered. I bought myself a hot dog, dressed it and ate, standing alone in a field, winking toward the city.

Bikers started trickling in. We sprawled on the grass amid goose poop. I found my friends. I declared I’d stay naked forever.

And then I saw a customer, put my clothes back on and biked to work.

Full Moon Rising (and so am I)

Yesterday my life made a sharp 180, and I am choosing to credit (as always) the full moon. I woke up early and hungover, the result of a good night and a preference for whiskey over water. Lately, I’ve been stressing about my upcoming rent payment. The 1st is on Monday and I’ve had that horrible tight feeling in my chest and sent my parents many an anxious text message. However, yesterday I was calm. My hangover distracted me from any other issue in my life. My only concerns: water and Advil.

At work, my day was surprisingly relaxed. Wednesdays are busy in the office — so busy, in fact, that my boss didn’t have time to instruct me on what to do! I kept myself occupied, but nothing seemed terribly urgent. For lunch, I had some leftover kale with a truly ridiculous amount of Sriracha, and suddenly my ailment was over. Thank you hot sauce, I was cured!

I left work early for a haircut in the city, leafed through the Stranger on the ferry, and once downtown — miracle of miracles — I ran into a friend! I still feel like such a stranger in Seattle, like I don’t know anyone, so it was a happy and refreshing surprise to see a familiar face. She offered to join me at my hair appointment, and during our walk to Belltown we laughed over silly and sad stories of past relationships.

Once at the salon — Sublime Salon with Sabrina: she has the most amazing reviews on Yelp for cutting curly hair — I was whisked away half-muttering confused apologies to my friend. And then the pampering began. Sabrina compared my hair to her own — an amazing compliment — and got to work. After a wonderfully scented shampoo and condition with head massage, she trimmed and shaped the back of my head. I had given her vague instructions: length, layers, stuff around my face; my fate was in her expert hands.

And she delivered! After the initial trim, it was back under the sink to re-wet, apply her favorite paraben-free hair gel, and slowly, meticulously dry my curls under a diffuser. She explained that she wanted to see how my curls naturally constricted before attempting to shape around my face. I appreciated her attention and the hair advice she casually offered. I did take charge at some points, asking for my bangs and a few pieces around my face to be trimmed further, at which point she offered me free bangs trims whenever I needed them!

Long story short: I’m a happy girl. After over six months without a haircut, my hair finally has a shape again! My curls are curling! I haven’t washed and styled it myself yet, but feel confident that my head will be looking good for months to come.

Before:

After:

Apologies for the weird lighting; this photo may or may not have been taken in a bathroom.

After my hair appointment, it was back to business. Remember my rent stress? I decided to act like a grown-up and negotiate the situation with my former housemate. I was so afraid to call and was seriously worried he would get mad at me or say something mean. Nope! As always, he continued acting like his nice, considerate self. Asked me how I was doing, told me not to worry about rent, and even offered to help me move out of the apartment! Phew! That’s one big stressor out the window.

In fact, my pent-up anxiety dissipated so fast I didn’t know what to do with myself. I became giggly and hyper. I couldn’t focus (as usual). To make matters worse (better?), the sun came out and I got hit with a big dose of Vitamin D. Endorphin rush!!

Luckily, I was headed right over to therapy, which helped me process my emotional roller coaster. I’m so happy and fortunate that financial burdens have been lifted off of me. I can finally use my resources toward the mental health services I was lacking for so long.

To end my night, on the ferry ride back to Bainbridge I ran into yet another friend! The day before I didn’t even think I had any!

Life is looking up.

Empire State of Mind

I had brunch with a bunch of women and I finally feel like a normal person again! A group of eight, myself included, from the Seattle ladies united for fun Meetup group met Sunday afternoon at Cafe Pettirosso in Capitol Hill. I heard a lot of crazy dating stories and it turns out everyone dates online. It seems that everyone has also traveled the world and been to a lot of amazing spas, and I really feel like I need to catch up.

I’m so glad I got to chill and talk to some women again! I miss my friends so much; it’s weird to have so few here. I’m excited about continuing to get together with my lovely slufs for brunches in the future.

The cafe was great: perfect service, no problem that we requested a table for 13 and only eight showed up, separate bills without asking, and the most all-around awesome waiter ever.

Since I’m going New York crazy, I had to order a bagel and lox. On the menu, the salmon plate comes with pumpernickel so I had to ask for a bagel instead! Crazy. The bagel wasn’t a New York bagel, but it wasn’t bad. The cream cheese had herbs in it; the salmon was pretty good, though I had to add salt and pepper. I wish I had fresh slices of tomato (I could have asked for them), but the pickled onions were nice. I added capers because they were there and my bagel still felt incomplete and I’m still not sure if I like them.

When I left Cafe Pettirosso after almost three hours, I was happily surprised to emerge into a sunny day! It was beautiful out! I skipped home and easily convinced sick Ben to enjoy the day and go for a walk with me. Leftover Dick’s burgers in hand, we walked along Alaska Way and up to the sculpture park. There were so many amazing dogs there and we got to watch the sunset on the beach! What a wonderful walk it turned out to be.

That night we finally got around to playing Scrabble, and I won! We watched Manhattan–New York lust, yes–and I felt so homesick and then so ready for Woody Allen to stop talking. Good night, New York.