Transplanted Life
Sunday, August 15, 2004
 
Easy wasn't an option
Doug stopped by to pick me up last night. This is, in my opinion, pretty silly if we're going to see a movie in Harvard Square, since it is well below a mile to get there, and when we do, we always seem to spend more time finding a place to park his car than it would have taken to walk. Besides, I tell him, I'm not going to keep my figure sitting in a car, and you do like my figure, right? He always says the walk would seem even longer on nights when I wore heels, and I ask him how he would know this? Besides, we're hitting the Brattle, which even on Saturday night with an unquestioned classic being shown, isn't exactly a dressing-up kind of place: He wasn't wearing a tie, and I was wearing a pretty casual-but-not-tarty skirt and blouse.

I could tell Doug was keeping something to himself during dinner. I had a few "god, did I suck this badly at it?" moments but decided to keep them to myself. If I brought it up, it would have been framed as a girl-boy thing, and me noticing something about how he acts as a guy would probably result in not getting back to his apartment after the double feature, or it being awkward and no fun, and our schedules don't align often enough for me to put up with awkward and no fun. I figured if it wasn't something he was planning for tonight, I'd confront him about it tomorrow morning.

Didn't have to wait. Once we got to the theater, he and Dennis gave each other the biggest, fakest "wow, I didn't expect to see you here!"s I've ever seen. I chuckled, knowing exactly how clever these guys thought they were being, but Kate turned to stomp off until Dennis clasped her wrist. Which probably didn't score him any points; I know I hate being reminded that a guy can stop me without using all his strength. Fortunately for me, Kate being Kate didn't bother to whisper or avoid making a scene; she honestly didn't give a damn if I heard what her problem with me was.

Kate: "I told you I didn't want any part of him."

Dennis: "Well, you've been cranky and miserable for the past month. You avoid going to things because you're afraid she'll be there. I talked to Carlos a week ago and he was begging me to do something because she's all you and Jen ever talk about when you're together, and when either of us ask about it all we get is 'you wouldn't understand.' Well, this foolishness ends now."

Geez, don't call Kate foolish.

Kate: "Foolishness? He lied to me. He acted like we were just girlfriends, and all the time, he was keeping that secret, thinking who knows what? God, one time he even got me into his bed!"

I muttered something about just who had mistaken whose breast for a teddy bear, which was a mistake. Kate wears glasses but has excellent hearing.

"Oh, is that what you think, that you're more of a woman than I am because of that overdeveloped chest of yours? You probably have a good laugh about that every time I leave the room."

"What? No! Kate, that's just, like, random; Michelle's mother fed her more chicken when she was eleven or something. All these mean is that I was never going to get very far pretending to be a guy. Once I knew that, god, you were a big part of why being a woman wasn't so bad, both having you for a friend and just knowing that women could be as cool as you are. You get that, right?"

"No, I don't get it! You told us you were a man in a woman's body and that you were a woman without realizing what a contradiction that is! How am I supposed to 'get' that?"

"If I ever figure it out, I'll let you know! But I do know it. Look, remember the last time you got drunk? You acted differently than you did when you were sober, right?"

"Well, duh."

"It's like that. All this stuff--" I pounded my temples "--does different shit in a woman's body than in a man's. There's just different chemicals sloshing around in there, and it took me a while to realize that."

"And you expect it to be immediately obvious to me?"

"No! I hoped it would, because you are one of the best friends I ever had and I hate, hate, hate the idea of losing that, but I didn't expect it. I just kind of hoped you'd think along those lines instead of just dwelling on how I had inadvertantly hurt you because I didn't want you thinking I was a complete lunatic."

"You think I don't want that? I just... You know me, Michelle--Martina. You know I'm no good with secrets, and the idea that someone could keep such a big one from me for so long... Call me eogtistical, but it makes me think there's something wrong with you."

And, well, it went on. We missed The Third Man entirely, hashing shit out. The good news is that we're going to meet up tomorrow to catch it and Gilda. I don't think she's quite sure what to make of me yet, but it's a start.

-Martina
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Note: This blog is a work of fantasy; all characters are either ficticious or used ficticiously. The author may be contacted at JaySeaver@comcast.net