So! I got a wolf whistle the other morning.

I know, I should be angry. Offended. But honestly, wolf whistles are so outdated, and also so much Things That Happen To Other People, that I was just stunned, more than anything, and I spent the rest of the day analyzing the event from a sociological standpoint. Here’s the theory I came up with: 1) I have bras now that lift and separate, rather than smoosh and flatten. 2) I was wearing a tank top. 3) I was on my bike, and when I’m riding, the strap of my messenger bag falls right in between the ladies, accentuating…. things.

I would probably have been upset if I wasn’t on my bike. On foot, such a thing has a slim chance of leading to a dangerous situation. On my bike, though, I get all “TRY AND CATCH ME, LOSEWADS” and zoooom away.

At any rate, it was kind of eye-opening for me. The shirt in question is form fitting but not tight, or low cut. I wasn’t trying to show anything off, you see. But I wasn’t actively trying to hide anything, and that was enough to get a whistle.

But back to our story. How ridiculous is it that I spent so many summers wearing 3/4 sleeves, because I thought my arms were too fat? Body dysmorphia is a strange thing. I have been kind of trying unravel exactly what used to bother me so much, and it’s not simply that I thought I was fat. It’s that I thought my body was so disgusting that it actively offended everyone who saw it. I thought I had to hide my arms – and wear long sleeves on 90 degree days – as a PUBLIC fricking SERVICE, you guys. When, not only do most people not give a damn if I’m wearing sleeves or not, but some people (impolite strangers, anyway) are so not-disgusted by me in a tank top as to whistle at me. Lesson learned.

Other things on the agenda:

I’m gonna make those League of Courteous Cyclists shirts!! I’m taking preorders now (for a discount!) and they will ship in the first week of August.

Also, I’m on Google +, because why not. Feel free to add me to circles, I like circles.