I am having a nudie day; I think I might be having a nudie week. Every so often, when the temperature is right and I forget to take my meds for enough days, my nudist nature comes to the fore. I just get tired of clothes. Hey, if it works for three year olds, why can’t it work for me?
On that note: I now have my own “peeper” even though I live on the fourth floor. We have big windows running the length of all the rooms, usually with the blinds open because, hey, I live on the fourth floor. One day, I am in the living room in my bra watching the birds on the line outside when I notice that there is a guy a block away, who has an apartment directly opposite, and his face is plastered up against his window staring at me. He sees me looking and retreats away from the window. First action: put on a shirt. First thought: Cool! Second thought: How sad is his life if the only person he has to peep on is me?
When Linda gets home, we are in the living room and kiss and hug and I start telling her the story when she goes, “Is that him?” and points to the guy, who is now out on his balcony staring at us. He sees us and scampers back inside but stays at his window, awaiting developments. Wow this guy is really dedicated. I am trying to convince Linda to brighten his day by us having a “hot lesbian make-out session” by the window. I am chanting, “Show! Show! Show!” to which Linda gives me “the look” and then closes the blinds. Sorry guy.
I am hoping during this hot July holiday weekend we can come together in bonding and share our nudie stories (no stories involving a lot of body hair please!). Here are a few of mine:
1) Being followed by a police car for 2 miles while I ran at 1:00 am around the Rose Bowl topless (I used to run at night because there was never anyone around, very safe except for hearing the coyote packs).
2) Once, after finishing a midnight run in the rain, I took off MOST of my clothes so I wouldn’t get a cold, then saw a lonely hitchhiker and stopped to give them a lift – they wouldn’t get in the car (wet, dripping, midnight, nearly naked?) In retrospect that was a good thing for ME (this was when I was young and believed myself to be immortal and immune from bad things)
3) In Britain I would sometimes climb up on the roof naked since I say it gives me comfort (Linda calls it “self destructive behaviour”). A very sad Beth will often become a naked Beth.
4) Walked around naked at summer camp, the reasons are still unclear to me (I think I was being bullied and wanted to show everyone that anything they could do, I could do but scarier!)
5) Running around naked in the house with Linda chasing me. I open the door to find a police officer standing on the pavement in front of the house. Oops! Tag, you’re it!
Two weeks ago was Victoria’s third annual Naked Cyclist March where you ride in groups around the city naked. Vancouver has one as well. A friend downtown said they rode around for 5-6 hours as they were still riding down there at 1-2 pm. There were 100 people and it is not protesting or raising money – it is just cycling naked: “Victoria is a British city with a long history of streaking,” she said, laughing.
Canadian teams are also putting out the Naked Women’s Rugby Calendar and the Naked Women’s Curling Calendar.
I am starting to think more and more that Canada & Victoria is the place for me!
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