sandra-leigh
12-24-2009, 04:57 AM
"It all goes on whether you're there are not,
So who cares? So what?"
That song from Cabaret was running through my head twice yesterday -- but I don't mean in a bad way.
In the morning, I realized that I was running just late enough that it was questionable whether I would make my bus in time, so I called for a cab to reach my therapy appointment. The cab driver that arrived was one who has driven me to work quite a number of times, and most of the time has on a tape from The Gospel Power Hour. He knows me by first name, knows my wife by site as well (he's driven her a few times.) But he didn't appear to blink twice at seeing me in my long denim skirt and visible (modest) lipstick and carrying a purse; his only visible surprise was that I was going somewhere different. So that's one more person to cross off my "worry list", and the first occasion that the tune went through my mind.
Then, last evening, I walked my groceries home from a deli about 8 blocks away. My immediate next door neighbour happened to be outside at the time, so I stopped and talked briefly to him, grocery bags in hand. I didn't think anything of it, but a moment later when I reached my gate, I realized that I had my usual classic female purse slung over my shoulder, not hidden at all while I was talking to him. Neh, maybe he saw it, maybe he didn't. Who cares? So what?
Speaking of my "worry list": on Monday, I wasn't feeling well enough to go to work. I forced myself to go out the door and over to the {quite} nearby corner deli that we visit a few times per week. Now, I have worn a skirt there once before (maybe more), but they might well not have noticed that time; I think I was wearing a long coat that time. This time, my jacket was only waist-length, the skirt was obviously a skirt (but not flashy), my earrings were visible (hair tucked back a bit). Oh yes, and my jacket was unmistakably Not Male -- a cute cherry-blossom design with some elastic in the middle that draws the midriff in, thus defining the bust (form-produced) underneath. Anyhow, the owners and the long-time staff member were as kind and welcoming and courteous as always -- so that's another place I can cross off my "worry list".
As I recently remarked in another thread, telling strangers is easy; the hard part is bringing it close to home, to the people who actually know you.
So who cares? So what?"
That song from Cabaret was running through my head twice yesterday -- but I don't mean in a bad way.
In the morning, I realized that I was running just late enough that it was questionable whether I would make my bus in time, so I called for a cab to reach my therapy appointment. The cab driver that arrived was one who has driven me to work quite a number of times, and most of the time has on a tape from The Gospel Power Hour. He knows me by first name, knows my wife by site as well (he's driven her a few times.) But he didn't appear to blink twice at seeing me in my long denim skirt and visible (modest) lipstick and carrying a purse; his only visible surprise was that I was going somewhere different. So that's one more person to cross off my "worry list", and the first occasion that the tune went through my mind.
Then, last evening, I walked my groceries home from a deli about 8 blocks away. My immediate next door neighbour happened to be outside at the time, so I stopped and talked briefly to him, grocery bags in hand. I didn't think anything of it, but a moment later when I reached my gate, I realized that I had my usual classic female purse slung over my shoulder, not hidden at all while I was talking to him. Neh, maybe he saw it, maybe he didn't. Who cares? So what?
Speaking of my "worry list": on Monday, I wasn't feeling well enough to go to work. I forced myself to go out the door and over to the {quite} nearby corner deli that we visit a few times per week. Now, I have worn a skirt there once before (maybe more), but they might well not have noticed that time; I think I was wearing a long coat that time. This time, my jacket was only waist-length, the skirt was obviously a skirt (but not flashy), my earrings were visible (hair tucked back a bit). Oh yes, and my jacket was unmistakably Not Male -- a cute cherry-blossom design with some elastic in the middle that draws the midriff in, thus defining the bust (form-produced) underneath. Anyhow, the owners and the long-time staff member were as kind and welcoming and courteous as always -- so that's another place I can cross off my "worry list".
As I recently remarked in another thread, telling strangers is easy; the hard part is bringing it close to home, to the people who actually know you.