Living in an unconditioned apartment this summer has made me adapt to the warm weather. Most of the time I just strip down and lay in bed in front of my fan until I begin to shiver. Most recently, as the temperture has begun to rise, I jump into a cold bath. No matter what the method I use I usually end up naked. This is okay considering I live in a second story apartment where all the windows are well covered by trees. What isn't okay is how comfortable I have become with my naked self. I will not think twice in leaving the house in a sheer shirt clearly exposing my undergarments. I fold over the waist on my shorts exposing my Hanes waistband. I feel comfortable and confident walking down the street, enjoying the occasional glance from a member of the opposite sex, especially if he's definitely in highschool. But it makes me wonder when I'm going to draw the line. Can someone please let me know when I become too naked for public eyes?

Everything right now is wonderful, this is my summer job (check out the staff link).

One of my friends sent me one of those personal information e-mails . One of the questions was 'Do you ever light your body parts on fire for entertainment?' Interestingly enough I did today, twice.

I would like to take this opportunity to make a public announcement. Happy Birthday Billy, I think I have it right this year.

I was at a funeral on Monday. A few of my cousins shamelessly shed tears in front of the rest of the family while the members of my immediate family observed in disgust. To this point I was raised to believe that when people cry they are being selfish, seeking attention. Taking something tragic in somoen else's life and making them the focal point of that tragedy. Or at least that is the way I thought that I was raised. My sister and I had a bet on who would cry first. We both betted against eachother, of course. When we informed my mother of this bet I thought that she would be proud that she had raised such controlled children. Surpisingly her response was 'It's okay to cry.' I have and unlimited amount of respect for my mother and she made me curious. Why would I have assumed she would disscourage crying? Growing up she wouldn't tolerate it, but of course that was always over scraped knees and bad test marks. Just before the ceremony my sister began to sob. I refused to give in to my emotions. At first I thought because I was being respectful to my Oma, who had passed, but I wasn't. As I looked around the room I thought that crying would bring me down to the level of all my other family members. They would realise I was not above them, but I too had weaknesses. This is not how I want to be perceived. Invincable, superior people don't cry. The personality trait that I was displaying was much worse than selfishness, it was pride. I am so full of myself. This also makes me a huge hypocrite.

Why is it that when you finally think you know who you really are and become comfortable with that 'self' you unlock another hidden door?

I'm just finishing baking triple chocolate cookies. Although I shouldn't be eating them I really had nothing else to do. I've decided that the difficulty to lose weight varies with your actual weight. It is easier to lose a few pounds when you're heavy. All you have to do is change your eating habits and the pounds will shed off. But after a while you'll reach a plateau. To lose more weight you begin to exercise. Again the pounds shed until you have reached the maximum weight loss. You then have to continue to eat healthy and exercise to maintain this comfortable weight. In the begining of the summer this was not a problem for me. I ate healthy and exercised, sometimes too much, every day. Recently I've found excuses to get out of cardio exercise (mainly muscle aches) and this guy and work has influenced my eating habits. I see him loving life and eating all this pizza, pop and chocolate bars. I mean he has a slight tummy but I think it's sexier more than anything. I makes me wonder if I can give up my great eating habits for the consequence of a potentially sexy tummy? However my future curves could only be considered sexy in a voluptuous extremly feminine manner. Three characteristics that I don't think that I posess. Which is very unfortunate because I love kit kat bars.

Why is it that a hobby that is so good for your cardiovascular health can only be replaced by another hobby that is terrible for your health?

Two weeks ago I was biking down Horton Street to the Goodwill and I was approached in the parking lot by a bum. He and I had a conversation about him and where the hospital is, leading into why he's on the streets and when he's going to commit suicide. I tried to convince him that he should wait until winter because the weather is too nice to die. I offered him a piece of bubbilicous oppose to a cigarette, told him I couldn't buy him beer because I wasn't 19, and suggested he move to Vancouver where bums are treated much better. The conversation was extreamly uncomfortable but I didn't want to be rude and walk away, eventually I told him I was late meeting friends. As a biked away he dismissed me with, "hey, I like that body." It was creepy, but I escaped safely.
Today I was out for a walk this morning and ended up on York street. There was a man approaching on a bicycle. Being the curtious pedestrain I am I moved to the edge of the sidewalk to give him room to pass. After passing me the man stops his bicycle and waits for me to walk past. He incoherantly mumbles a few things. I look at him puzzled, but politely, thinking that he was just trying to say thankyou. He pulls out a small pad of paper and a pen
"Alone" he writes, I shake my head. It's always best to say you're not single to creepy men. He raises his hands and points at his ring finger. I look down at my dissappointed in myself for not knowing that I would be proposed to on the street and had forgotten to wear my fake wedding ring (duh). I laugh nervously and shake my head again.
"Robb" he writes on a fresh piece of paper. He points at himself and then hands me the pen and paper,
"Casey," the second time I've introduced myself as Casey this weekend.
He then flips a few pages to a previous conversation with a few words on it
"boy
Girl
Friend" followed by three other illegable words.
I shake my head a few times hoping to frustrate him and he'll give up trying to communicate. He write down another word, that I am unable to make out.
I shrug and look at him compassionately. Once more he turns to a fresh page and write down
"Address, phone number" and I wasn't interested in what else. I consider for a second giving him some more fake information, but uable to perform under pressure I simply shake my head, laugh nervously and walk away. A small distance away I glance behind me to see where he is and where I have to go to get away from him. He was gone. I wonder if he was waiting at the bus stop, or somewhere else, ready to pounce on the next woman to walk by. It also made me wonder if I looked like someone who would talk to a bum. Eventhough my of my wardrobe was purchase either on sale or second hand, I would like to believe that I continue to appear clean cut and approachable, not desperate. But with all my recent contact with 'London's Finest' it makes me wonder, do I really look that trivial?