Saturday, August 30, 2003
It's a holiday weekend, isn't it? I'd almost completely forgotten, I was so wrapped up in everything else.
Not that Labor Day's an especially big holiday for me. Kurt, I know, has a big family gathering every year, but I never had enough of a family for one of those to achieve critical mass - Mom and Dad were only children, like me, and they'd had me relatively late in life. Now, Dad's gone and Mom's retired to Florida. And it's not like there's a big Labor Day tradition of any kind, like fireworks on the Fourth of July or anything like that.
Kurt didn't invite "Michelle" to the big family shindig, but I guess that makes sense, since it's only been a month - not quite "meet the parents" time. Not that I'm sure I'd want to go, anyway, after the other night. Besides, I've seen what happens to pretty girlfriends when Kurt and his brothers get together, and I don't particularly feel like being "appreciated", like I/Michelle was some wild animal he'd captured.
Just feeling kind of down. The baseball game was brutal to watch; seeing Pedro Martinez pitch every fifth day is one of the great perks of being a Red Sox fan, and it's no fun to see him vinced and vulnered, so to speak. Especially when Grady Gump just seemed to be switching pitchers for the sake of switching pitchers after he came out, like he was trying to find the one having a bad day.
Then, after that, I finished "The Teeth Of The Tiger", and that's really a bummer, since it makes two below-par books in a row for Clancy. I mean, this thing didn't even have an ending, the "the ends justify the means" vibe it gives off is scary, it's got no really good villain, and there's only two really exciting sequences. The worst part, though, is that TC spends a lot of time having characters talk about how cool Jack Ryan and John Clark are, and they're not even in the book. Instead, we get Jack Ryan Jr. and two of his cousins, who we really don't have much personal investment in and, unlike Ryan's debut in "The Hunt For Red October", aren't part of a really compelling story.
Ah, well. Tomorrow I'll get back to Brin's "Kiln People", which I'd put down to read "Teeth". Hopefully that'll be an improvement.
Just a quick entry
Some game last night, huh? The Sox are only 3.5 back with Pedro pitching today. Not quite as exciting as the last series so far, but the results are looking good.
Looks like another slow weekend - kind of overcast, Sox-Yankees on the tube, and a book to finish... I don't know how far from the apartment I'll be venturing.
One question for outsiders reading this: Is it just me, or can nobody else see the August 3rd entry? I was trying to add a link to it last night (since it describes my first date with Kurt), but it doesn't appear to be in the archives, even though I can see it when editing the site. Does anyone remember it appearing on the site at all?
Friday, August 29, 2003
Last night was kind of embarrassing.
Well, forget the "kind of"
We met up at The Place after work. Kurt was already there; we didn't expect to see Wei and Jim until almost seven, since they don't exactly work banker's hours at the hospital. Kurt gave me a kiss on the cheek when I met him at the bar. I guess that's going to happen all the time now, which isn't a bad thing. I like Kurt, if not in that way, and the demonstration that he likes me is kind of nice, especially after a long day where Kate was at an off-site meeting and Jen was sick. Sure, we didn't do it when we were both guys, but there are a couple immigrants in the office, Dimitri and Giovanni, who are more demonstrative when they meet their male friends than I was. It's not out of the question. It just takes a little getting used to.
We talked about our days over drinks, while I made sure to remember that I can't match Kurt drink-for-drink the way I used to. Both of us have jobs that sound pretty dull when you describe them to someone else, but keep us busy. He complains about writing instruction manuals, but I tell him that at least he can feel like he created something at the end of they day. Answering the phone doesn't give you that, and I miss it.
At about ten of, Wei and Jim appear, still in their work clothes. They look good, though - even if hospital scrubs aren't sexy, they command respect. Kurt settles our tab, and we start walking to the Aquarium, to see The Matrix Reloaded in IMAX.
Truth be told, I'm not thrilled with this - I wasn't a big fan of the movie in 35mm, and this will just be the same thing, bigger and louder. But, as Kurt explains (and I remember), Wei and Jim were working insane hours back in May, and they're just now getting around to seeing it. So we go, get our popcorn, and wait in line. I can't help but note that Kurt's a little more touchy-feely than he has been before. Like, when he's buying our tickets, he puts his arm around me and pulls me to his side when saying he wants two. Or guiding me by hand to the line waiting to get into the theater itself. What did I ever do to give the impression I was a hand-holder?
We get decent seats (really, there aren't many bad seats in an IMAX theater) and settle in. The movie's impressively big and loud, but it's still The Matrix Reloaded. I must be looking bored, because Kurt leans in and asks if I've seen it. I say, yeah, but I don't mind because Wie and Jim seem to be having a good time. He gives me another kiss and puts his arm around me. I just sort of chalk it up to the drink and sigh that it's not going to be a night I remember fondly when I'm back in my own body.
Twenty minutes later, his hand has moved down to Michelle's left breast.
I've got no idea how to react to that. I mean, as much as this whole situation isn't my idea, we have been going out for about a month, and I suppose some physical contact isn't too much to ask. And it's not like it feels bad... Quite the opposite, I feel a little tingly all over, especially when he starts gently stroking it.
But, if two months ago, a girl had just stuck her hand in my shorts without asking, I'd have been taken a little aback. And that's with my own body - I'm still hoping that this situation is temporary, and I don't know how closely what I do is being monitored or what Michelle considers acceptable treatment of her corpus. She didn't say much in the way of "don't do this", but maybe she was just assuming I wouldn't.
Soon, though, Kurt's started kissing Michelle's neck, and I'm like, okay, this beats watching Keanu Reeves and Carrie-Anne Moss try to display chemistry, but then his other hand starts to reach under my skirt and, well, that's enough. I push it away and sort of wriggle out of his hands. He starts to ask something and I whisper that I'm trying to watch the movie.
It's not just the fact of the touching, though. It's the whole making-out-in-a-movie-theater idea. Kurt and I turn thirty next year, and even if Michelle's a month and a half short of 25 (though it's a sort of "could play a high-schooler on TV, if you don't put a real teenager next to her" 25), it's just sort of tacky. We're adults, aren't we? I say as much to Wei in the bathroom afterward.
She's kind of taken by surprise, not expecting this reaction from her friend's girlfriend whom she's only met once or twice before (I admit, I kind of forgot "I" didn't know her that well). She recovers quickly, and smiles as she says "well, why do you think I never went out with him?" But she does stick up for him, saying he's a simple guy but a good one nonetheless. "Maybe Marty'd be more your speed, but I haven't heard from him since he moved out West."
I guess she's right, and even give Kurt a quick kiss on the cheek when we get out of the bathroom. It's the first time I initiate it, but I don't want him to think I'm a pain in the neck and break up, leaving me out of contact with him and Wei. And, hey, the letter says I've got to try, and that does involve more than smiling nicely.
Anyway, I've got a long train ride home to think about it. And I've been working on this entry all day when the phone's not ringing. I guess I don't really mind the idea of letting Kurt touch me that much - it's like wearing the bikini; it stimulates the feel-good parts of the brain, and I figure after I'm myself again, it'll at least be useful in terms of knowing what a woman likes and how she feels.
It's the way dating him feels like a job. I told Michelle that I'd go for Kurt if I were a woman, and you know, I just might, if I'd been born this way or knew I wasn't going to be myself again and had a chance to get used to it beforehand. But being told "try to make it work or else" despite knowing that, if all goes well, we won't have a future... I can't wrap my brain around it, sometimes. And it sure makes it tough to enjoy getting close.
Thursday, August 28, 2003
Hard to get
Kurt called at around ten-thirty last night. He said he'd called before, which is definitely possible; Michelle doesn't have an answering machine. I ought to call Verizon and get voice mail, since for all I know, Michelle is trying to call me herself.
He asks why I wasn't at kung fu theater that night, the clear implication being that I was trying to avoid him. Even if you don't take into account that I told him about Coolidge/Allston's occasional kung fu series back in May, he just started going last week - even "Michelle" has been going longer. Pretty presumptuous to think that he's important enough for me not avoid it on his account.
Instead, I just point out that Jen had a date, I had to stop at the grocery store after work, I was only 100 pages into Clancy's new book, and I wanted to watch the Sox-Jays game. And, besides, I'm a bigger fan of Sammo Hung than Stephen Chow.
He doesn't seem to buy it, but we've both dealt with women long enough to know that no good can come of pursuing the line of inquiry further. Anyway, he asks if I'm free tomorrow night (well, tonight, as I write this). I tell him I guess I am, and he asks if it's okay if Wei and her boyfriend come along? Sure, why not? Heck, I've only seen Wei once since this whole thing started. That's almost as big a draw as hanging out with Kurt.
After I hung up, I wondered how many times I've thought a woman was playing hard to get when the truth was, she just had her own life. I don't think I was that egocentric, but I have to admit, there may have been one or two times when I thought some girl really wanted to be on a date with me (okay, I probably thought they wished they were having sex with me) but instead kept me at arms length so that I'd want her more, when if fact they were just lying on the bed in their underwear, reading the new book they'd bought the night before.
Wednesday, August 27, 2003
The bad news: No free movie. But...
Well, apparently a bunch of other people were on the same email list as Kate for those free passes, and by the time we got to Copley Place (ptui!), they were all gone. There wasn't much of anything playing there that neither of us had seen or was particularly interested in, so we started wandering.
One of the stores closest to the theater is a Brentano's, and the front display lured me in like a moth to a flame. I know, I've been pretty tightly focused on the whole "not being in my own body" thing, but how did I miss a new Tom Clancy book coming out? I've only been Michelle for a month; shouldn't there have been "Coming Soon" posters, or some internet buzz, or something, before that? Was it all just hiding behind the Harry Potter stuff or something? Anyway, I was grinning like a fool when I picked up "The Teeth Of The Tiger" and didn't even look at the inside of the dust jacket. Kate thought that was kind of weird, but, hey, if you trust the author and know you're going to buy his stuff, why not jump in cold, especially for a suspense story?
Kate didn't get her own copy, saying her stack at home was plenty tall enough already (though she was tempted by the new Ben Franklin biography). We did some window-shopping after I paid for my hardcover, demonstrating that Kate has better taste in music, books, small appliances, and women's clothes than I do. Can't tell you about her taste in lingeree, since she refused to go into that store with me. I told her that was silly, since she's really pretty and I'd totally go for her if I were a guy, but no dice.
(Apparently, there wasn't an irony-obsessed God listening when I said it this time, since I'm still in Michelle's body)
Anyway, we got some Chinese in the food court after seeing that Barnes & Noble had a lower price on "Teeth Of The Tiger" than I'd paid at the other end of the mall. Now, here's the really interesting thing - Kate made a comment about how surprised she was that we got on so well.
"Why," I asked, "because I'm just the receptionist?"
"Well, there's that, I guess - don't take this the wrong way, but you're way too smart for that job."
I mumbled something about not having the money for college which she seemed to buy. But, anyway, she said, that wasn't it:
"When you first started working at BioSoft, you were sort of standoffish, is all. You just sort of gave off this attitude that the job was beneath you, and that you weren't planning to hang around for long. It was kind of surprising, since Rick had said you were so nice during your interview. I guess it might have been some sort of new job jitters, but it just seemed weird - I mean, you're new in town, right?"
Well, I had lived here for five years plus, but "Michelle" appears to have just moved in in July, which is what I told her.
"Right. I'd just thought, someone new in town would be looking to make friends, which you kinda weren't. Then, after a couple weeks, it's like you became a new person. You started remembering names, got yourself a boyfriend, and just having opinions about things. Or at least sharing them. It's cool, though - I like having someone to talk about foreign movies with."
Then I started teasing her about how come, if she liked foreign movies so much, she wasn't going to the Hong Kong stuff with Jen and I, and the conversation drifted.
But I did learn something important, I think - this swap wasn't random. Michelle was planning to swap with someone, and when she found someone moving to a new city (where no-one would say I was acting strangely) the next day, she pounced.
Now I have to wonder, does she really plan to swap back? The letter said she does, but I wonder.
Tuesday, August 26, 2003
So now I've got these flower things on my desk.
They're pretty, I guess, if you're fond of pretty. There's red and yellow roses and a couple other things I'm not woman enough to identify. There's a little note from Kurt attached to them, saying he's sorry work ran late last night, and would I maybe be free for something tonight?
I have to admit, as freaky as the idea of getting flowers from Kurt seems, the idea is kind of cool. I can't recall many times that I, as a guy, have had stuff meant to make me feel good sent to me while I was working. It's kind of unfair, when you think about it. A guy screws up, he sends flowers or candy or something, and the girl gets a little boost from it. But the other way around, not so much.
Why flowers, though? Obviously, it doesn't enter into Kurt's head that it's hard enough for me to feel like a man, drinking diet soda, doing this reception work, and wearing a bra/stockings/shoes/skirt; a bouquet of roses sitting on my desk doesn't help. But why not send me lunch or a book or something like that, instead something I can't do anything with except put them in water and hope they don't die completely until after the person who gave them to me sees that I didn't just use them for mulch or something? Speaking of which, am I supposed to just make sure I have a vase with me at all times in case someone gets it in their mind to send me flowers? That strikes me as sort of conceited.
While I'm thinking that, the other ladies in the office had some sort of sixth sense about someone receiving flowers, and soon were all congregated around my desk. Opinions seemed to run 80% "sweet", 20% "you're not buying that, are you?" Janet, somehow, actually did produce a vase to hold them in, too.
I was just about to call Kurt when Kate, who'd hung around, looked at me aghast. "You're just going to say yes?"
I looked at her, confused, since she'd been pretty solidly in the "sweet" category. "Well, yeah."
She rolls her eyes, wondering how I could be so naive. "You can't let him think some nice flowers are a way to get off the hook. Make him earn it."
"Shouldn't I at least call and tell him I got the flowers?"
"Well, of course. Tonight, when he's home alone. Didn't you learn anything in high school?"
Suddenly, a whole bunch of nervous evenings over the past fifteen years made perfect sense.
"C'mon, I've got tickets for a sneak preview of that Sundance series tonight. You can call him when you get back."
Well, I figure it beats paying for a ticket later. I feel kind of bad about doing this to Kurt - having been jerked around by women this way myself, I know how much it sucks. But, I did get my time wasted last night...
This must be what Darth Vader felt like turning to the Dark Side. You know what you're doing is wrong, but it makes sense, and by the time you realize what you've done, you're telepathically choking people who disagree with you (or watching Oprah).
Monday, August 25, 2003
Not necessarily drunk, but definitely pissed
Stood me up.
I can't believe it. Last week, when Kurt had mentioned going out on a "real" date tonight, I'd been kind of worried - I had liked the whole deal where we'd just hit a movie or something small like that. It was "just friends" stuff, and though I guess we might, technically, have been dating, it didn't put much pressure on me. I could keep it up indefinitely until Michelle decided she wanted her body back.
But the event sounded kind of cool (a kickoff for a charity golf tournament at the Comedy Connection, with a bunch of ballplayers and comedians). And yesterday was kind of a lot of fun, so I reached into Michelle's closet and found her Little Black Dress and a pair of black heels, and threw them into a bag so I could change at work before Kurt picked me up.
I was just coming out of the ladies' room at 5:30 when Jen saw me and asked about my makeup. I, of course, hadn't brought any. She rolled her eyes and marched me back in there, pulling some stuff out of her purse, fussing over my face. It was weird, not just because I really don't like makeup - even as a kid, I'd refused to participate any time any sort of face-painting went on in school Heck, I hate getting my hand stamped for a club or such. It was the idea that Jen was the one trying to get it on without me grimacing. She's my kung-fu-movie buddy, and just doesn't seem like the Barbie-doll-loving type who would really get into making someone look pretty.
In fact, I was kind of nervous when I saw Michelle's reflection in the mirror. If I were going out with a girl who looked and dressed like this, I might have certain expectations for after the date. Wearing that little black dress seemed like something I'd regret not trying later, but at the present time, it could lead to something else entirely, something I know I wasn't ready for.
But, that never happened. Kurt had said he would pick me up at six, but by the time quarter past rolled around, he was nowhere to be seen. I tried calling his cell phone, but got no answer. By then, Jen was hanging around with me in the lobby, and at six-thirty, Dimitri gave Michelle's body a good ogling as he left for the day. I was about to try him at work, but I didn't know whether that was a good idea. Kurt had never given "Michelle" his work number, and in fact had never told "her" the specific company he worked for. What if I did get through and had to explain how I knew how to reach him?
Needless to say, I was angry as hell when seven o'clock came around. The event was starting, and no sign of Kurt. I was stupidly angry - I had put on this clingy dress, broken out the high heels (which I hate - aside from the weird toe-then-heel way they make you step, they combine the worst parts of going barefoot with the worst parts of wearing shoes), let Jen smear who knows what sort of crap on Michelle's face, and for what? Dimitri undressing me with his eyes. Just a whole bunch of wasted effort.
I was more confused, though. I've known Kurt for ten years, and the guy is reliable. When we shared an apartment in college, he was the guy who handled the bills, to the point where he always made sure he could pay them on his own just in case. He calls from his cell when he think's he'll be five minutes late. And in all the time I've known him, he's never once cancelled on anything.
Besides - Michelle's hot. He didn't make any pretense of hiding his attraction the last time we saw each other. If I was dating Michelle, there would have to be a good reason for not showing.
By 7:30 I was sitting on a bar stool, but it just made me angrier. I had guys hitting on me in rapid-enough succession that I looked for a line, and each one just made me wonder why I was there instead of at the event. I left after one drink.
I did stop at the liquor store on the way home, though. It was weird to be carded, since I hadn't been for a few years. Michelle is five or six years younger than me, though, so I guess she's young enough that they have to.
Anyway, right now I've got two Coors Lights in me along with that Sam Adams from the bar, and I've almost drifted off twice while writing this. Apparently alcohol affects Michelle's body differently from mine - she just goes straight to drowsy without the extroverted stage. Which is probably a good thing, meaning I won't spill my life story just because I've had a couple drinks, but it means the alcohol isn't really helping me much right now.
The Big Guy
I briefly mentioned Dimitri when I first started coming in to Michelle's job a month ago, but I don't think I've mentioned him since. I've sort of learned to filter people hitting on me or flirting out over the past month. It's like dealing with pop-up ads - I'm aware that someone's doing it, and I know certain people (like Dimitri) are going to do it every time they see me, but I don't give it enough attention to do much more than get rid of it.
Well, that's not quite true. I kind of like Dimitri; there's a big, teddy-bear quality to him. And he flirts with no expectation of success; I get the feeling he's just pleased to have a pretty girl talking to him. There's so little pressure that I actually had a theory that he was gay and just putting up a front, but Kate pointed out that he only flirts with me, suggesting that guys trying to stay in a closet tend to overcompensate and hit on everything in a skirt. I suppose that might be the case; it's not something I've had to think about before.
I mention this because something seems off about him this morning. He seemed to hang around for longer than usual after his morning smoke. He asked what I did over the weekend, like every Monday, but today it seemed like he was expecting an answer. I guess he could have seen me sunbathing yesterday, but then why not just say so? He also just seemed to keep finding excuses to be around the reception desk - he's gone to the restroom three times already, had a second smoke, and had his lunch delivered. It's starting to make me nervous.
Hopefully, he'll still be around when Kurt comes to pick me up tonight. Maybe seeing that "Michelle" has a boyfriend (of sorts) will discourage him a little.
Sunday, August 24, 2003
Well, why not?
So, I get up this morning, go down to the corner store to get the paper, clip some coupons, and realize that there's still hours of day left. With the Red Sox playing the ESPN night game today, I really had absolutely no excuse to hang around the apartment. Besides, it's a beautiful day. Clear blue sky, the thermomenter not deviating the slightest bit from eighty degrees, a slight breeze - summer days don't get much more perfect than this.
I'm grumbling about how it's too bad my mountain bike is somewhere on the other side of the country, being enjoyed by the person who should be rooting though this underwear drawer, when I find a bikini at the bottom of it. It's kitschy as hell - red, with big white polka dots. I don't think even Annette Funicello ever wore anything like this in real life. It must have been a gag gift, or something.
I'm holding the thing in my hands as I look out the apartment's one window. I look at it, back out the window, back down at the bikini, further down at Michelle's body as the bathrobe falls open, and I think, what the hell?
Really, that's about all I think. She's got my mountain bike, my DVDs, my books, my mint-condition Atari 2600, my baseball glove, my action figure collection, and I don't doubt she's enjoying their use. And in return, what do I get for entertainment? A goofy-looking bathing suit. I might as well make the most of it. Besides, August is almost over; if I don't do it today, well, I could wake up tomorrow in my own body and think, a few years down the road, that this was a missed opportunity of sorts.
I don't just walk out of the apartment in it, of course - I stick a halter top and some shorts with an elastic waistband over it, and put on some sandals and start walking toward Harvard Square. It's about a mile, but it's also got a nice long stretch by the Weeks footbridge where you can sit by the river and sun yourself, and the city of Cambridge actually closes off a section of Memorial Drive to give over to the bikers and rolelrbladers. Not that I've got either, but it's easier to just relax when there aren't cars zipping by. Besides, I wanted to hit the bookstore and get something to read. I wound up stopping in Pandemonium (a science fiction bookstore) and getting David Brin's latest (Kiln People) in paperback. Hey, it's about souls being downloaded into other bodies. I like Brin and feel like being irony personified.
I also grab some suntan lotion in CVS; I've got no idea how easily Michelle burns. And a towel. (This is how money gets spent - I saw people setting up with their towels on the way from her apartment, but didn't want to walk all the way there and back)
Then, it's back to the banks of the river Charles. I'm just spreading my towel, and who shows up but Maggie?
I suppose it's no big deal; we spent some time sitting by the river together Sunday afternoons, trying to see who could finish the Globe crossword first whenever there was a rare nice weekend in May and June. Right in the same area. Still, it was kind of hard to see her bringing another guy to sit there. To be honest, I didn't think of it as "our spot" until that very moment. Of course, bumping into me didn't mean anything to her - I was just that weird girl she met at the mall. We said hi, her boyfriend (David, I think his name is) said he's just finished my book, I mentioned that I liked some of the author's books but hadn't quite gotten up the nerve to start his big "Uplift" saga. He seemed like a nice enough guy, although he didn't say as much as Mags when I started talking about yesterday's game - just grinned and said he was glad Nomar had a girlfriend, or else he might lose Maggie. Not that he was always looking at her.
So, after the conversation between people who (supposedly) didn't really know each other came to an end and we gave each other a few feet of personal space, I made the smallest bit of a production of removing the top and arching my back before I bent over to pull my shorts down, making sure he got a real good look at Michelle's breasts (by the way, Michelle has excellent peripheral vision - I could totally tell he was looking). I also decided to start my sunbathing face-up rather than face-down, just to make sure those polka-dots continued to catch his eye.
Hey, if I'm going to be stuck with this body, might as well get some use out of it. Maybe it's just wishful thinking, but I could practically hear Maggie thinking "Martin wouldn't be looking at this bimbo while he was out with me". With any luck, maybe David (or whatever) will be gone and she'll remember what a good thing we had when I get my body back.
After an hour and a half or so, I turned over. Got to tan evenly, and, besides, it was tough to read holding the paperback at arm's length with Michelle's rack in the way. Just to be an extra special big tease, I untied the suit's top. Wasn't long after that that Maggie and her boyfriend left (and it certainly looked to be Maggie's idea).
It took me a while to get into the book, just marveling at the absurdity of what I was doing. Not just because I was doing it, but any woman doing it - I was basically lying around in the middle of a city (well, actually, on the Boston/Cambridge border, but close enough) in my underwear. The swimsuit wasn't close to a thong, but it still left Michelle's ass half exposed to the air. I was practically naked and it wasn't just me - I'd say one in every eight girls was similarly attired (sure, there were some guys going shirtless, but that doesn't exactly give you the same "in the middle of a major metropolis in my skivvies" feeling).
That was good for another hour or so, and then the breeze started. Michelle's skin had absorbed enough sunlight to not really get chilly, but I was getting kind of tired of just sitting there, and felt like walking around some more. Just one snag - although I've gotten fairly proficient at getting bras on and off this past month, I can't say I've had much practice tying a bikini up behind my back without flashing that nice family sitting in front of me. Sure, it's really Michelle's body and reputation (or so I tell myself), but the son who looked to be about twelve wanted it too much.
I was making a complete ass of myself when I noticed a shadow in front of me. I tilted my head up and saw a good-looking guy, asking if I needed some help. With an accent. Yeah, I guessed I did.
This, I guess, must be Michelle's type - tall, tanned, European. While I was idly noting that he was handsome, if you liked that sort of thing, there were involuntary shivers running up her spine whenever his fingers touched her back. I thanked him as I stood up and pulled on my shorts and top, though Karl said he might not have helped if he knew I was planning to get dressed. I made up some excuse about having to call my mother, what with it being Sunday afternoon, and headed for the subway station.
Of course, to travel the mile from Harvard Square to my Apartment in Allston takes forty-five minutes by two different subway lines, but I didn't tell him that. I spent the rest of the afternoon at the Aquarium, actually, and walking around that area. It was good to just walk around, just as a reminder that being stuck in Michelle's body had one distinct advantage - I still got to live in this fantastic city. Day-to-day, when you're just going to and from work and collapsing, you can lose track of that.
Anyway, I'll be throwing the bikini in the wash before heading off to bed. August is almost over, so who knows when I'll have a chance to use it again? I don't plan on still being in this body next summer, so this might have been a once-in-a-lifetime experience (and not a bad one).