I don't know, I never really thought about such things, you know things like your body. I guess I was always a bit too busy to be bothered with such a mundane thing as a -body. I know it sounds a bit far fetched not to think about something as essential as your body, but when you really ponder on it, it is rather easy. You are rarely ever really conscious of your body, until you have one of those moments that shock you into realizing that you are made of flesh and blood as well as grand and high ideals (and some that are rather short of both of the latter). My shock came a little later than most, I think, or the media would have me believe, but I am more than happy that it had.
I guess it is here that I should explain what the said body resembles ( I can hear the panting wolves at the door already, oh? Well I haven't even stated my sex yet, sorry, I am a girl/woman) it is dipped in many of the right places and swelled in all the 'right' ones, as I have been told. I stand a little short of average, and have hair that has been compared to what one would imagine shadow's blood to look like. I have eyes that almost match my hair, and skin a shade lighter than French vanilla ice cream. But all these are things that I still do not pay much attention to although there are a few of the accessories that I have become fond of.
I like my lips, and my tongue. Why? Well I like my lips because I think that on a woman it is the most sensuous, alluring, and advertisable commodity that a female body can use. It is wholly functional at all times, unlike the tits, and ass, or even the face for that matter (minus the lips of course), which are all rather tiresome to tease into sexy tidbits. The lips though can be wet with a quick dash of the tongue over them, or slightly bitten, and when caste with upturned eyes seems to be irresistible to most men, or quite disturbing to them, if the fidgeting and squirming can be used as evidence. And the tongue in its agility and constant state of moisture is always ready to play the lips handmaiden, one and the other wholly diminished without it's partner. I never thought about these things until an evening exactly a year ago, and because of this anniversary I am writing this confession of sorts.
I had moved into a duplex house that my parents had so kindly rented for me (Asian parent's are notorious for such acts of gratitude for their children's existence, it's drawbacks being the obligation to the every whim of parental imagination, but that is another story). It was for the summer quarter, and since I was going to summer school for no good reason you can probably tell that I was not really a social butterfly. I had taken a few classes that I thought would be interesting, ranging from the History of Asian Art (taught by a bespectacled white man), to the History of Black Music ( I swear, taught by the bespectacled white man's twin brother….but I think they all look the same anyways). It was toward the end of the quarter when I saw a moving truck located on the opposite side of my duplex. I took note of it and walked to my side of the duplex while I perused my flash cards I had made to quiz myself for the upcoming finals.
As I was about to walk up the stairs to my door, a car pulled up just in front of the duplex. I looked over and there were two frattish looking boys in an eighties model Mustang. They had their stained baseball hats turned backwards and, as they got out of the car, I notice that they had matching T shirts, both saying in bold print, Orgasm Donors. They stared at me and I became annoyed and returned to my flash cards as I moved up my stairs.
"That is some proper ass dawg! Hey, Suzy Wong you want to suck on my egg roll!"
Clever boys
, I thought. Such magnificent marvels of romantic lingo that make the ladies swoon off of their feet. I guess you can understand the reason for my indifference to my body with such examples that were placed in my path to make me aware of it. There was very little reason for me to stray from anything but a road of disinterest. This comment was just one in a long line from imagination starved, carbon based, blobs. Yeah, you can say it, I was bitter, and a bit bitchy, but who could blame me? I gave them the universal sign of displeasure and entered my apartment, or do I call it my duplexment? I don't know, I went into it, and shut the door, forgetting the encounter.
I went to my room and laid back onto the bed after I threw my flash cards onto the table. I stared at the ceiling and wondered how anyone could really think that, that shade of color would be flattering in any circumstance. Then I heard voices in the next duplexment.
"Dude man, you have a hot ass Chinese chick living next door," actually I am Korean but that seems to be too far out of their geographic expertise, "she flicked us off when we came up here."
"I wonder why," said a voice that had a nice mellifluous flow to it. Not a clichéd deep, and baritone voice but one that was just nice, and noticeably male. That was what I thought while I imagined the flashcards flipping across the horrible brown ceiling. Then I put it out of my mind because I could not imagine that a person who would associate with such poor examples of the Human primate would be worth the synapse power.
"Let's hurry up and get this over with, okay? You guys asked for a conference here and to tell you the truth you haven't done anything this entire quarter, and so, I can't imagine that this time would be worth anything but to confuse you. That being said, what is your questions?" Hmm, he wasn't a friend after all, maybe I could waste a few firings of my axons on him.
"Umm," it was a different voice than that of the other doofus but they were expectedly similar. "We just didn't understand that acceleration stuff." I flipped back three years ago to my introduction physics and remembered:
average acceleration is defined as the rate of change of velocity, or the change in velocity divided by the time taken to make this change.
