Transplanted Life
Wednesday, January 21, 2004
Didn't get a chance to add to this yesterday, since Carter and I went on a double-date with Kate and Geroge to a couple movies at the Brattle. The double feature was The Barefoot Contessa and Sabrina; the first was pretty bad, but the second was wonderful. You can't go very far wrong with Humphrey Bogart and Audrey Hepburn.

Kate's got to dump George, though. After Carter mentioned that he didn't usually see a lot of old movies, but Bogart and Hepburn were fantastic, George committed the cardinal sin of reminding him that even if Audrey Hepburn were alive, she'd be old enough to be his grandmother. You just don't say that after a classic movie, especially one which involves Audrey Hepburn or Grace Kelly. Yeah, I know, as befits my current body and sexual orientation, I probably should be saying that about Cary Grant and, say, Bogart, but I don't know as they attract me as much as Hepburn still does. I don't want to sleep with a twenty-year-old Audrey, nor do I particularly want to be that sort of elegant girl. I just like the ideal they represent. Besides, Audrey was the one Kate's boyfriend dissed. To the point of saying he liked the Harrison Ford/Julia Ormand remake better. This, as I told Kate at work today, is obviously not someone you're compatible with.

I wound up spending the night at Carter's apartment; although my place in Allston is actually much closer to Harvard Square than his in JP, that would have involved waiting for a bus or taking a taxi. And, hey, we'd just seen a romantic movie and it was a good excuse.

I never had a black girlfriend in my original body - just never worked out that way - and I must say I like the aesthetics of it. I don't know what we look like while we make love, but I caught a glimpse of us in the mirror as we showered together this morning, and it looked neat in an abstract way; when the mirror fogged up a little, my pale skin against his dark skin made for a nice pattern.

He actually took longer in the bathroom than me - "head stubble" is just funny - so I went out to make us some breakfast. I was a little taken aback when, looking through the cupbords for a measuring cup (I cook like a chemist, following directions so anally that I read the meniscus when measuring water), I found a locked gun. Apparently, it's Carter's sidearm from his Air Force days. You don't normally think of Air Force guys having pistols, and he says that he seldom wore it doing base support like he did, but everyone has to test on it, since in an attack everyone can wind up a combatant. Makes sense, but it was sort of an alien thing to me. I don't think I'd ever touched a gun before yesterday; my dad wasn't into hunting, I never did ROTC in college, and my friends and girlfriends were sort of from the same background.

Anyway, we soon found more important things to discuss, like needing to leave some clothes at each others' places if this was going to happen often during the week. As it stood, folks were going to know I spent the night here because I was wearing the same outfit to work. Hopefully the novelty will wear off soon.

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