Little things
Not really much happening in the last day or so, so I'll just write down a few quick observations:

* Carter and I have been sharing the bed for the past couple weeks or so. It wasn't any big deal; we were just exhausted one evening, flopped onto the bed just to get off our feet, and woke up the next morning without any ill effects. So, the next night I was about to lay my sleeping bag out on the floor and he just grabbed the pillow and put it on the bed beside his, and there was no discussion.

It's a little awkward sometimes, since even though he's basically functional during the day, he seems to have nightmares. I don't know whether it's because of all the shit he's been through or just a quirk of Samantha's nervous system, since neither Carter nor Mikhail in his body was what you'd call an active sleeper, but right now Carter tends to fidget. Mostly it's just a matter of hogging the covers, but last night he actually kicked me awake. And that body may be small, but he has been working out.

At least I know where the other stuff is coming from. By the other stuff I mean when I'll wake up and he's got his arm on top of me, or he's using my breasts or belly as a pillow (which takes some contortion; the bed's not that large). It's a little weird, but you can't really hold someone responsible for what they dream. Still, he's going to have to move on at some point.

* Despite ten-plus months of acclimitization (if that's a word), I still don't get the shoe thing. I mean, yeah, I understand that they're going to be a more important part of the wardrobe what with the legs people run their eyes up and down, but I still don't see much need to have more than a pair of black heels, a pair of sneakers, and a pair of flats that let me move quickly without being as casual as sneakers.

And painting toenails? I just don't get it. It looks really silly and is a pain in the neck. Besides, it makes people look at my feet, and that just feels weird. I don't remember anyone ever staring at my feet as a man, but as a woman, people do it. Both sexes. From the men, it's a little creepy - I mean, staring at my boobs, I get, but my toes? From the women, it generally seems to be "how can she be wearing those ratty sneakers"? I'm wearing jeans with a tear in the knee and a T-shirt that's had its sleeves ripped off, but their eyes are on that bit of fraying on my tennis shoes. I almost feel guilty, like I've broken some rule that real girls are told about on their twelfth birthday or something.

* I filled in job applications at movie theaters today. While the idea of free movies as an employment perk is nice, it's what I did for a part-time job during college. Nothing like feeling your life is running in reverse, huh?

-Marti
- posted 7:48 PM - - (archive use only)