HEY, LESBIANS!!

[judecorp]

Tonight Jen and I decided we would bake cookies, but we didn't have any baking soda. We walked to the convenience store down the street to pick some up, and when we were crossing at an intersection, this guy in a Mercedes SUV starts yelling out his window: "LESBIANS! LESBIANS! HEY, LESBIANS! LESBIAN POWER!" and all kinds of goofy stuff like that. I didn't know what to do or say because I couldn't stop laughing. I was in the middle of the crosswalk just laughing and laughing with my hands in my pockets.

I commented to Jen that I derived amusement at the difference between car-yellers here and in Columbus. In Columbus, most of the stuff yelled out of cars was really mean-spirited, like that guy that stopped in front of us to yell, "No fucking gay marriage for fucking gays!" With this guy, he was obviously making a spectacle of us, but he wasn't hostile about it. He was pretty jovial and was yelling in that "WHOO HOO" manner akin to, say, Girls Gone Wild. This isn't to say he wasn't mocking us, because he certainly was, but he wasn't hostile or aggressive or anything. Fascinating.

What was /more/ fascinating was that we saw him driving the other way when we were on our way home, and he made sure to yell, "LESBIANS!" a couple more times. Goon.

~//~

In a vaguely related note, I've been experimenting a little bit with more femininity. I think it comes from dressing up for job interviews. I was definitely raised to think that dressing up means wearing skirts. I don't wear skirts now, but I still have that lingering feeling that I'm not dressed up unless I'm wearing girls' clothing. Even if I'm wearing dressy men's clothing, I still feel underdressed. So today for my interview with Big Sisters, I wore a ribbed shirt that is girly in the sense that it shows boobs and requires me to wear a real bra. Yowza.

I think I look pretty hot in some girls' clothes. My hair has started resisting the spikiness and is just parting itself on the side. Even though it's not very long, it looks girly (especially when I'm wearing girl clothes). Between the hair and the boobs, and the fact that short hair is becoming quite trendy for girls, I'm starting to look like a bonafide girl again. Weird.

In some ways, I really like it. I've been thinking a lot about developing and reveling in my femininity. I think this was enhanced quite a bit by the March for Women's Lives. There's something about tapping into that energy of woman-ness that is appealing to me. I think part of it also comes from having everyone assume I'm a lesbian so much that I'm starting to explore that identity. Jen and I went to the Dyke March here and there were so many androgynous boychicks that it made me want to separate from that. I'm definitely one of those people who shies away from things when they become trendy. Like piercings. I like getting piercings, but then when everyone gets the piercing I have, I want to remove it. Or something.

The one thing holding me back from femme-ing out a little bit (I said that for you, heathergirlie) is that I'm really reluctant to have Jen and I look like the stereotypical butch-femme coupling at first glance. It's enough that people make assumptions about me or us without having people then make gender role assumptions on top of that, like who is the "breadwinner" or who "wears the pants" or whatever. Granted, I'm not about to become a circa 1950s housewife, but you get the idea. I've been toying around with the idea of wearing a dress to my brother's wedding reception, but I know Jen will be wearing a suit and I don't want to be a "suit-dress" couple, if that makes any sense. Which it probably doesn't. Because I'm a dork.

This is becoming the longest, most babbling entry ever. And it's about nothing. But seriously, this has been on my mind lately. Jen and I are trying to get into better shape and lose some weight (not at all assisted by massive amounts of cookie making) and I know that if I lose some of the saddle-bag effect on the hips I will want to start wearing my cutesy little baby-doll tshirts again. And well, there's no mistaking the girl in me in those shirts, because they're all boob. And they're cute as hell. And then I become "the girl."

This really isn't an issue when I don't have to get really dressed up for something (ie a wedding reception). I wish I could find something really in between that is wedding appropriate. I don't want to wear a skirt suit or any lame compromise like that. I don't know what I want, really. Maybe I'll just wear the same linen pants I wore to crena's wedding last year. Dressing up is so complicated! Ugh!

~//~

In other news, I think I am going to buy Red Sox tickets for me, my father, and my grandfather for Father's Day. We used to all go to a baseball game together every summer with the Freemason lodge that they belong to, but that hasn't happened since I was about 14 or 15. My father is going to ask my grandfather if he is interested in coming up next Thursday for an afternoon game. I'm excited at the possibility, even if it would involve sinking a HUGE sum of money (even with just outfield grandstand tickets) at a time when I have no income. Still, my grandfather is 86 and I have no idea how many summers he'll be up and around enough to come up to Boston and enjoy a game, and I've missed so many summers in Ohio. And with my father having that heart attack in 2001, you just never know what can happen. I hope they say they want to go, because I really think it will be a special day for all of us. I would love to snap a billion pictures.

My grandfather really is the cutest, most adorable man on the planet. For real. He is about 4'10" tall and has the reddest little Portuguese cheeks and is just cute as a button. I hope Operation: Sox Game is a success!