Now, I know today is not really Day 53, but what I want to talk about actually occurred on Day 53, so hence the title. Anyway, this blog is partially about having new experiences, but I'd like to discuss an experience I wish I didn't have.
So last week my friend Tom invited me to a birthday party for his friend Joel and him at Joel's home. Toward the end of the week, I was also told that this was going to be both a pool and a toga party. At first, I kind of scoffed at the toga aspect, thinking that I've outgrown dressing in sheets since graduating college, but I figured "what the hell? It might be fun." And it was, at first...
The party started around 3 pm. I did not wear a toga, but I did bring a bathing suit. The day was scorching, so when I arrived, Tiffany (Tom's charming girlfriend) and I headed for the pool. The water was warm, but it felt amazing when the breeze hit my wet skin. Everything started out very mild, the people who were already there, congregated in small groups talking amongst themselves. The catering was supposed to arrive around 5:30pm, and in the meantime, everyone was enjoying the alcoholic slushy machine and the sun (or the air conditioning indoors).
Around 4 pm, Joel, who previously was sitting in the backyard with his own group of people decided to go for a swim. Tiff had casually mentioned that Joel's pool parties tend to turn to skinny-dipping, but I figured she meant small get-togethers, and there were just too many people here for that happen. Boy, was I wrong. If I was a carnival worker, I would probably estimate Joel's weight at about 375 lbs. I'm not trying to be mean, but this is my blog, so I can say what I'm thinking, and I'm thinking he should have kept his swim trunks on. Granted, I think I should keep my bathing suit on too, and Tiff (who weighs in at a healthy 120), and same goes for Tom. In fact, across the board, I think everyone should keep their bathing suits on.
Unfortunately, they didn't.
This party consisted of about 30-35 people. There were only a handful of women, including me, Tiff, and maybe 4 other girls that I remember seeing. As the evening progressed, more people, men and women alike, started to take off their swimsuits to swim, and I'm pretty sure some people did not even bring swimsuits, knowing full well that Joel owns a pool. Very quickly, that ninety-five degree pool turned into Cock n' Balls soup. That's kinda like Matzo ball soup, just much much less delicious, but very similar consistency and ball to soup ratio.
At that point, I had long ago removed myself from the water, and sat on a lounge chair trying really hard not to look anywhere. Tom sat next to me with a smirk on his face, and Tiff joined us.
"You should have warned me," I told him and glared in his direction. He just smiled and asked me why I was so uncomfortable? Why am I not joining in? He raised good points, the atmosphere was not sexually charged, it was just nudity. I am by no means a prude. I am not the type of girl to keep my shirt on during sex. I've been known to wear laced-up corsets and thigh-highs to indoor Renaissance fairs. Those that have had the pleasure of having sex with me know I'm very kinky, but this, this was different.
This wasn't about how unattractive all these naked nerdy people were, and they were very unattractive (again, my blog, I can say what I was thinking). This wasn't about being nude for the sake of being nude, like in a nudist colony, maybe that's why it bothered me. This wasn't being nude for the sake of being sexy either. This had a different quality to it. It was as if these people were being nude, to be shocking, to change a norm, or to set a different one. They were saying "We are societal outcasts, so let's give society a middle finger." Good for them. I definitely like to rebel lightly as well, but I think being shocking for the sake of being shocking is kind of a teenage angst thing to do. I think if you do things that you actually enjoy, and it sometimes shocks people, well great, keep doing it, but I find it hard to believe that a girl, who made the time and effort to get a Brazilian wax (or just very thoroughly shave herself), doesn't care what people think. Maybe if I knew them better, I would have enjoyed myself more. But I didn't. So I didn't. Oh well, not all new experiences turn out to be good ones.