Transplanted Life
Monday, May 30, 2005
That's a pretty nice holiday weekend
Red Sox kick the Yankees' asses twice (and I think it would have been a sweep if not for Dale friggin Svuem. You could use "to svuem" as a verb meaning "to send from third to home despite there being no chance of a run actually scoring"), we finally had nice weather. Sure, the clothes I finally got to pull out of the closet do tend to reveal how pasty-white my legs are, but it's not exactly like I'm alone on that.

One downside to living in the city is that finding a place to grill. It can drive you nuts when you can smell the people with yard-like space or balconies or roof access making their burgers and you've got no place to do it. Maureen and I have no place to do it, Telly doesn't, Chet doesn't, Mags doesn't, Anna doesn't. The folks that do are visiting their families or on their honeymoon. Torture! I mean, we want to have a cookout, but between the six of us, we can't manage it.

Kind of a bummer for Maureen, since her family has a big Memorial Day cookout, and she'd been getting on with them better, but as soon as the question of bringing Anna came up... Truth be told, they'd like Anna. They met at church, for crying out loud, and I don't think they've actually slept together yet. They are lucky to live in a state where they could get married, because otherwise I think their future would be just continuing on until there was no way to tell whether they were girlfriends or girlfriend and girlfriend, so to speak. They may not have even kissed. There's something to be said for having someone in a relationship willing to say "I want a piece of that."

The funniest part of the weekend, I think, was when Chet and I met up on Saturday and he's all thrown by seeing me in a camisole, skirt, and sandals. He thought it was weird to see me in girls' clothes. I'm like, dude, you've seen me wearing dresses and heels at the wedding and when we go dancing and stuff all the time. He's like, yeah, but that's when people are expecting you to wear that stuff, and it would look weird if you weren't.

I don't think that's quite true, but I guess, now that I come to think of it, the times we've gone out have kind of corresponded with me just wearing jeans and t-shirts, for the most part. It's kind of gratifying to see that I can attract and keep a man while keeping the cleavage in reserve, so to speak. I tell him, hey, it's a good thing I don't quite trust the weather enough to break out the bikini yet. He looks at me flabbergasted, asking if I really do that, grabbing a spot by the river and just lying there half-naked. Well, yeah, I say, and tell him about the first time I did. He laughed, and thought Mags must have felt pretty silly when she later found out who her boyfriend was ogling. Yeah, I say, and I feel kind of bad about that, but I wasn't really settled into myself then.

Still, he says, it must be kind of a rush to have people looking at you and lusting after you when they'd be totally skeeved if they found out what was inside. And, yeah, it is, especially if they're some knuckle-dragging type, but most of the time, it's a pain. I came out of the closet for a reason, after all. Nah, I say, most of the time when I dress like this, it's about feeling the sun and the wind and the world on my skin, and if people enjoy looking at me, that feels good just because it's fun to look good, not because I'm putting something over on them.

Although, yeah, having a secret is fun, too, in the abstract. It's when you get down to specific cases that it starts to become a burden. Which is why, I say, giving him a kiss, I'm glad you're so cool with it.

Just in case you were wonder - we're still reading.
Hey, I've got to actually write for that to happen, right?
When you first explained to Chet about the mindswapping, you left out the 'used to be a man' part, unless my memory is faulty (entirely possible!) So when did you tell him the whole story, and what was his reaction?
Actually, I just didn't emphasize it; the exact words I used were "glossed over". I certainly drew a diagram which had an arrow pointing from "Martin"'s head to mine (and, no, we're not scanning my embarassing stick figure drawing in). It took a few weeks for it to really sink in, though.
k. thanks for clearing that up.
just wondering, what is the point of that contest you are doing?
not to sound to blunt but if you were to write a story then actually make it believable?
Point of the contest:

Pure selfishness; I want to have a diagram to explain it visually, and, hey, the site stats say I get 150 or so readers a day and figure it would be cool to hear from them.


Lord knows I'd like to write a believable story. That's just not my life right now, though.
Ever read this? Sounds like your kind of fan, in a Bizarro-world kind of way.
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