So, I'm sitting in my girlhood home, visiting with The Momma and Daddy, and thinking a lot of things through. Like how I am going to pay for a second vacation next
year, after moving this year into an apartment that might require me to work yet another job.
I am not sure of a lot of things right now, and attempting to plan a vacation a year plus in advance is a bit much for me right now. I have too much on my plate, and I've
been working at 120% of capacity for the last month as it is. All I have to do is survive June, and I think I'll be okay.
I think.
I am also processing a weird dream. Some back story: When I was a little girl, I read comic books. Titles like Iron Man, Captain America, Captain Marvel (The space-
born Kree warrior, not “The Big Red Cheese”), Thor, and so forth. In my dream, I was reading things like Iron Maiden, Miss America, and both Thor and Captain Marvel…
were women. As was Superwoman, Batgirl and Robin, Spiderwoman…you get the idea.
That's right. All these male titles…were now all female titles. I was the only one who knew this, everyone else said these had always been about women. I was also a
girl/woman in this dream, and had always been one. I had been born that way. (Not that I am saying this is bad. But I am not aware of too many dreams from my youth
where I am female.)
It's good to be able to write these things down, while they are fresh. I don't know what this dream means, other than I am so used to thinking/living/being female it is
filtering into my subconscious. As are more memories that couldn't possibly have happened…and they are getting earlier in my life, as well as later.
Things like a cute little curly headed, towheaded 7 year old picking strawberries at a u-pick. Or, a now 14 year old with dirty blonde hair, shoulder length with some curls
and the start of a chest…picking strawberries at a u-pick. (These events happened as a guy. The hair's almost the same color at these stages, and as a guy, I had more
chest than guys should have.)
Or, things like being on the girls softball team in junior high. (I know I've been told I throw like a girl, but really!) Or my first “crush” in seventh grade, and meeting him at
RollerWorld, and holding hands while we slow skated. (I never knew seventh grade boys could sweat so much in their hands.) Writing down things in my diary, sharing
girl type secrets at the all night slumber parties, and dreaming of my first real “lovers” kiss.
Or necking with my boyfriend under the bleachers during a football game that the high school band wasn't playing at. For all that, being in the color guard and/or woodwind
section of the band. (I actually was in the drumline.) Trying out for-and not making-the cheerleading squad. Singing in a girl's trio at CMEA, and getting a superior rating…
and being just a tad unhappy we didn't get a command performance because “We were that good.”
What's more, I remember details like the summer top I had-it tied around in back of my neck, and held my boobs (such as they were) in place, those cuuuuuute lil' shorts,
and zoris (flip-flops) and tanning at the pool, catching the boys trying to cop a peek down my top and scolding them but being Secretly Pleased they even noticed the fact
I had boobs at all. I remember my babysitting jobs (which I actually had in reality, but now I was taken more seriously because I was a girl), the summer I was a lifeguard
(which never happened), and the dance I left early because my guy was making out with another girl on the dance floor when I went to the girl's restroom. (I came back
sooner than he planned and found him swapping spit not far from where I left him. Jerk.)
Or going shopping for new skirts, blouses, slacks, bras and panties for college, and using the folks credit card. (This actually happened, but it was all guy stuff-polo shirts,
jeans/cords, shoes, socks-and all of it from Levi Strauss.) Working behind the concessions counter at Roller Haven. (Which I also did in reality in college, but as a DJ and
not behind the concessions counter-and for far longer than I did as a DJ.)
Or going to dinner and a movie with that cute guy…from my Navy “A” school. (I looked sooooooo good in my dress uniform-skirt, hose, top, “banana skin” cover,
cuuuuuuuute tie, and stainless steel ball pierced earrings.) I also remember kissing him rather firmly goodnight, and the weekends we spent in Chicago, seeing sights,
swapping spit and playing tongue tag, among other things. (Oddly enough, I haven't figured out where I lost my virginity, but suspect it was in college or the service. In
reality, it was in high school in my Junior year. That's all the details on that you'll ever get, so don't ask for more.)
I am not bothered by these “memories” that actually didn't happen, or are somewhat altered to be feminine from what really happened. I actually cherish them, as it
solidifies what I should have been…a happy, well adjusted, terribly brilliant teenage girl, not a miserable, neurotic, terribly brilliant teenage boy that never seemed
comfortable in the skin he had.
That these thoughts, dreams, and memories all occur at my girlhood home is no surprise to me.
