Is my nipple showing?

A word to the wise for women: do not wear a tank top while walking around in South Philly. It does not matter if you are a no-bra-wearing granny or a flat-chested adolescent, the men in South Philly will slow down their cars to gawk and say things like "hi, mommy" when you pass them and ogle you in the subway while attempting to keep the tunnel wind from sweeping their toupees of their shiny round heads. I had a moment of utter contempt for the male species this morning but maybe I should feel sorry for them. It must suck to have every other thought in your head revolve around sex or around juxtaposing the head of some random woman on the body of a Penthouse photo you remember from seventh grade. I could be misinterpreting; the subway man, for instance, might have been staring b/c I remind him of his long dead sister. But I wanted to walk over to him and be like, Hey, you're gross! Stop thinking about your sister in that way!

In unrelated news, I woke up the other night to find I was laying on my stomach with my right leg bent up behind me as if I were at the beach. To make it even more beachy, Ernesto was sprawled out next to me as if he too were sunbathing. I don't remember what I was dreaming. Something to do with water.