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06/23/01
-----Original Message----- Are you sick of posting these yet? Are you? I got you the bestest present, though, and I'll take you to dinner when I return. I'd even show you my tits as thanks, if I thought you would care. Anyway, this is a quickie, but I thought you'd like to hear it. The European Water Polo Championships are being held right now in Budapest, with some of the festivities (and competitions?) being held on the island I'm staying on. I finally figured out a bunch of the teams are staying at my hotel, which would account for the large, muscular men and large, muscular women I see at breakfast. From what I gather, there's a fierce competition going on between the Hungary and Italy teams. I can't really figure out who is winning though. Last night I went for a walk around the island past the stadium, and there was some big hoopla going on—couldn't tell if it was a rally, or an actual competition because the gates were high and security was plentiful. But all of a sudden I got nervous. I don't know why, everything was fine, it was a lovely night except for this: anytime large groups of Eastern Europeans are gathered together in stadiums singing national anthems and pumping their fists in their air, this American Jewish girl is going to get a little nervous. I'm telling you, it was just a little creepy. The other thing of note is the fact that this morning I went to the mineral bath, and half of the Italian water polo team showed up about fifteen minutes later. They eventually joined me in the jacuzzi part of the baths, and I literally could not look at them, they were so beautiful. I swear to God, DW, you should have been there. I have never seen finer specimens of men in my life, and you know I could give two shits if a man is buff or not. None of those New York steroid types ever get a second glance from me. Make him tall and smart and funny is all I ever ask for. But they were all tan, and clean-shaven, and had the most beautifully sculpted bodies. And of course, they all had chiseled facial features, too. I couldn't deal at all, and started giggling, and then trying to control myself. Six beautiful men in their speedos and me, in a cheapo Old Navy two-piece bathing suit that I bought in a rush before a trip to Atlantic City last summer. I finally had to get up and go to another bath because I was so in the throes of sexuality at that moment. I just kept thinking, if DW were here, he would be able to handle this so much better than silly little me. Not much else to report. It's a beautiful sunny day and I've got to jet. Tomorrow I'm off to Vienna, and then next weekend I'll be seeing The Mysterious Miss S. in Berlin. We are both going to wear high-heeled boots, I think.
xxoo
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