you scratch mine, and i'll scratch yours.

i had fallen asleep with my bra on, and this may not mean much to a little under half of the population, but it's extremely uncomfortable to wake up like that.

i remembered that when you ask someone to scratch your back, you give directions ... up a little, over a little, right there, no, down a little.

when boy and i exchanged back scratches, we used maps. he liked to use boston. i'd point to the middle of his back, and he'd say,"the commons." and he would give me directions accordingly ... "copley and down newbury, please. and now, southie." he loved having his back scratched, so we would do an entire guided tour through downtown and out into allston and brighton ... sometimes we'd even get out into roxbury.

when he scratched my back, he knew to instantly scratch right under where the little metal parts of my bra strap were. that's where it always itched the most. anybody else who scratched my back never hit the right spot for at least three minutes. he always started right there. i used simple norths souths easts and wests until we moved to new orleans. that's how i ended up learning the layout there, through back scratching. i'm terrible with directions, but he would scratch around town until i knew each part of my back and the city as one in the same.

this morning, i couldn't reach metairie or uno, and i ended up laying down to rub my back along the carpet, and i still don't know my way around austin.