rabi puts it, so succintly:
anyway I have clearly been in college for too long, because dancing around with nearly-naked people while girls in lingerie have sex with boys in drag seemed almost normal. (well, maybe not normal so much as non-extraordinary.)
for the first time last night i was one of the girls in lingerie, and none of it was mine. people counted my layers for me: three on top, three on bottom, nothing on my stomach which is still impressive, even when i think about it. i am not the kind of person who goes around inviting people to stare at her belly-button.
not that there’s anything wrong with my belly-button.
for about 45 minutes, it was fun. i enjoyed dancing with some people and seeing how other people were dressed: rebecca made a terrific cabaret girl, sarah kelly was packing heat, jonah deserved some award for his white muumuu and huge pink hair.
but by the time both buildings were filled like matchboxes, and several people had shoved me and stepped on my toes and ground naked against my back and i’d seen enough nudity for several kubrick movies and i wasn’t drunk, nor planning to be, i was ready to go home.