|It’s Summer! And Saddle-Noses.
||[Apr. 15th, 2007|09:09 pm]
The weather this weekend was so hot it felt like July or August, not April. I went rowing yesterday. We were not the only ones making the most of the unusual weather - the part of the Old Danube we use for rowing was so crowded with rowing boats, little sailing boats, pedal boats and swimmers we had to go zigzag all the time.
And while I think it’s great that I live in a country where the sight of exposed breasts doesn’t bother anyone (every second boat had – mostly middle-aged – women on it trying to get a tan without tan lines) we almost crashed into another boat at the sight of a man in his 60ies wearing a thong.
Still, you have to admire his self confidence – my arse is far less bumpy with cellulite and definitely less hairy than his, and I wouldn’t dare to wear a thong.
Mmmh. Maybe I should?
One of the books I read recently was about the cultural history of sexually transmitted diseases (I couldn’t resist buying it – it was only 3 euros). It does focus mainly on syphilis, and it mentions that one of characteristic signs of congenital syphilis (= transmission from mother to child in utero) is the so-called “saddle-nose”, which means there’s a flattening of the bridge of the nose.
Ever since I read that, I can’t stop staring at people’s faces and checking for saddle-noses. I do it everywhere: on the bus, on the subway, in shops, in restaurants, or when I’m simply walking along the street. I even do it when I watch telly.
I just can’t seem to stop!