stories from the city

Women were damned when they were given hips, were made such that we could not carry our arms simply straight at our sides, were handed shelves of bone and flesh to carry children.

Today I apologized to a man for being in his way in a store. Very rudely, he said, "Don't apologize, you didn't do anything."

I was unnerved, said I hadn't meant any harm and left.

He comes out of the store after me, explaining that I'm not allowed to take offense because he has a loud voice. He's _yelling_.

"Don't worry about it," I mumble, not wanting to deal with it. My hand was on my hip, because that's where my hand goes, and because my hips and elbows and just about everything hurts right now, and that's where it was most comfortable for my hand to be.

"See, you have an attitude problem," he yells, starts immitating my posture, puts his hand on his hip, goes on and on how I'm prissy.

I tell him to fuck off. He procedes to follow me for a block, screaming that there is medication for cunts like me. I suspect he meant poison.

*

On the subway, a woman bursts into a delightful laugh as I get in the car. She loves my t-shirt (yes, it's Republicans for Voldemort day), and I'm charmed by her. Big heavy woman, of the, I know people give her shit variety. But she was so happy. And I was about to cry (for those of you that can't see the friends-only stuff there are some other things going on).

*

I get off the subway, to be followed my woman telling me I'm a lazy Jew without a job.

This is my city and this isn't going to be a good day.

blah

I've succumbed and signed up for Netflix, and my rental list reads like the list of everyone else's obsessions I've never gotten around to (which is to say: Black Hawk Down, Amelie, Lost in Translation, and television series from England (read: Horatio Hornblower) ... oh hey... maybe they have MI-5.... oooo, they do, only season 1 though).

So, sorry if I was a bit overly literary about the craptastic nature of my day. I still don't know what the story is about the Counsellor thing, and I'd like to, just so I can assimilate, do anything that might make sense, and move on.

That said, I am really stuck on the way I put this, this notion that people presume all these things about what I think of them, because I put my hands on my hips, because that's where they fit... it's so interesting really. I spent the rest of the day trying not to do it, almost fearfully... very strange, and maybe there's something interesting to write in all that.

Other small accomplishment of the day... cleaned off my desktop... now if I can just purge all the crap in my bookmarks....

Really bummed I have to wait until Sunday to ride again, although this is probably good -- today I couldn't cross my legs without manually moving them into place. I have _really_ _really_ tight tendons by nature (an issue of much medical consternation when I danced), and I'd forgotten how they react to my stretching them out at all. Yuck.

Can I just tell you how much I hate being hassled about being Jewish (which I am, but it's like one thing on a long list)? Aside from iew racist bullshit, creepy.... this whole "looking Jewish" thing is shit. Hello, idiots, there are Jews in Ethiopia. There are Jews in this world with blonde hair. Okay? Fuck off.. People look like they are from certain parts of the world, that happen to contain Jews. Also... my nose? Roman nose. Stereotypical roman nose. If you're gonna be a racist, at least like be an observant one, okay? Man... there's no precision in anything anymore.

BTW, ordered more BPAL the other night.. got their Mabon limited edition, and a full sized Hesperides.