Today was last swim for Early Bird Lap Swim at the public pool. Sigh.... Some of us--who shall be known as Pixie, Julie, Dave, and Moi--met at Denny's for breakfast afterwards, in my case obliterating the good effects of swimming by eating Strawberry Cheesecake Pancake Puppies.
Don't ask me for an image. I would salivate all over again. Let's just say it's like a French Toast Fantasy. Henceforth, only a fantasy.
And that's not me. Not even the fantasy me. That's Cybill Shepherd from The Last Picture Show (film) and Pulp International (website). The film is based on a semi-autobiographical novel by Larry McMurtry. I have not read it but can probably find it at the library or on my parents' bookshelf if I need it. Maybe I have read it, but it would mean something different second time around.
I do have a black swimsuit, but, with Last Swim swum, I am throwing it out, because it is disintegrating. It lasted for two good years in chlorine! I think I will finally throw out all my old emergency-reserve-partly-disintegrating swimsuits in a flurry of late-summer cleaning activity to encourage the purchase of a new non-disintegrating swimsuit at an end-of-summer swimsuit sale.
I will save at least one. It shall be called Last Swimsuit.
"You must change your life," said Rilke. So that's what I keep doing. I worked as an actor, wrote for an encyclopedia, edited a literary magazine, and taught college English courses. Now I write poetry, blog "eight days a week," and listen to birdsong.