Brian won a party at Bar Chicago, so a bunch of friends met up there for free beer for two hours. By time the free-flowing booze was up, I was admittedly dancing on the bar in exchange for free Miller Lites and shots.

The highlight of my night: I had a midget pour Jager shots into my mouth. Oh the shame!

Lorinda and I questioned how much nookie the midget gets. She seems to think that several women have �get it on with a midget� on their list. Whereas I am in the anti-midget-sex side, it seems to me that L is of the other opinion.

Saturday night Holger and I went to Melvin B�s, an outdoor bar down the street. He ditched me for some girl, so I hung out the rest of the night with these three guys. A fun time was had, and I went home happily buzzed well before all of the bars closed.

My parents woke me up nice and early Sunday morning, so I took advantage of the opportunity to get things done early in the day. I ran my errands and then slipped on the bathing suit and some shorts and walked to North Avenue Beach for some pick-up volleyball games with some friends.

I played a little 3-on-3 and 4-on-4, and my serve was pretty on-fire. I�ll have to start lifting some weights with hopes that I�ll improve that even more. By the end of the summer, I�ll be untouchable.

I noticed something else that I really like about Chicago: All of the women wear bikinis.

Now before you start questioning my love of the male physique, let me explain what I mean.

It wasn�t until this past summer that I would even consider wearing a bikini. I got some much-needed confidence boosting, and I have since frolicked happily while wearing something skimpier than most people�s underwear.

Prior to this I was of the �if you don�t have it, keep it covered� mindset, and I realized just how wrong-wrong-wrong I was. What you�ve got is what you have. Embrace it. Accept it. Learn to love it.

I had this oddball notion for a while that my tush was too flubbery. It took a very beautiful man telling me that I had a fantastic ass before I started to change my mind. Yes, there is more fat there than the beautiful models who are airbrushed and starved and genetically different almost everybody else out there. But you know what? Who am I to question someone else�s opinion?

Take the damn compliment, smile, and eventually start to believe it. It works wonders for the mind, I swear.

Yesterday at the beach it didn�t seem to matter what shape one�s body was in. Two pieces covered only the essentials, and the rest was out there screaming, �Love me as I am, dammit!�

And as I sat in the chair with my arms covering the natural belly creases one gets while slouching, I noted that I still had my shorts on despite the heat. I�d like to think that were I up-to-date on my bikini waxes, I would have removed the shorts during the games. But I�m not so sure I would have.

I remembered back last summer when I made my first appearance in my bikini around a bunch of new friends, and I recall wearing a towel around my hips for much of the day. There, at my thinnest, at my most toned, at the beginning of my surge in confidence, I still covered it up.

No more. I�m finished. If these girls can play volleyball with their bikini bottoms shifting into not-so-comfortable places, the sand following the suit into the crevices, and everything as free as it should be, I can do my part.

My vow to you Chicago women and to those all over: I will no longer cover it up. I will show my body as it is. I will allow others to reveal in my womanhood. I will allow my thighs to shout, "Free at last! Free at last! Thank God Almighty! We are free at last!"

The naked pictures may not ever be posted, but you can guarantee that I�ll wear only the bikini at the beach.�