Scarborough

Ok, I just want to say that I'm in a kinda pissy mood today. There is no good reason for this pissy mood. Just one of those things.

So now that that is out of the way, let me just say that on the way home I saw the weirdest thing. There was a dead deer on the side of the road. Just laying there on the grass. Being dead. WTF?!? I've never seen a deer in this area until now. Crazy shit.

Saturday I went to Scarborough with my boyfriend, (you'll have to forgive me, I just really like saying the phrase 'my boyfriend') and there were several interesting goings on. We went to look at costumes for me, (yeah-I know. But hey, it's a chance to wear a pretty dress and look like a princess, so whatever.) and the salesperson at one of the places was quite clearly a man. Tall, deep voiced, masculine. But in a dress and makeup and with ample AMPLE cleavage heaving. Um. Confused. Transgendered? In the process? Drag queen with implants? Really really good push up bra? Yeah. So, that was a little off putting for me, simply because I had no idea how to refer to this person. He or she? I settled on she, but me mind keeps saying he, because seriously, she/he was manly. So anyway. I didn't like their costumes, but he/she simply insisted I try one on, so I did, and when he/she laced up the bodice for me, it was so tight I really thought I was going to pass out. Plus, it made me uncomfortable, because for the experience, I had to take of my undershirt and bra, and so there I am in an outfit that is way more revealing than I am comfortable with, and there's a sales "girl" manhandling me and barking commands at me. She/he told me to "bend over and fluff the girls. We want a perfect plumbers smile without letting the puppies show." Ok, so that was funny, but by that time I was seriously fearing for my poor brain cells that were no longer receiving oxygen, so I wasn't really gung ho on laughing right then. I went and escaped from the torture device and soon after had to do my inhaler to return my breathing to normal. We did not get a costume for me, needless to say.

Later, Lawrence and I were walking through a field, and a be-costumed man walked straight up to me and said with a completely straight face, and with an accent none the less, "Did I tell you, milady? You could do better." I ripped out a quick witty response of *blink, blink.* My mouth hanging open, I had no idea what to say. Thank you? No I can't? Sez you? Without another word he turned and walked away. I was flummoxed. Then Lawrence started laughing, and I found out that he and Lawrence are friends. So I guess he was joking. At least I think he was.

But I do get that a lot. People are always telling me that I could do better. Even Lawrence says that. Lots. In a way, it makes me a little angry, because it belittles Lawrence, and it belittles me for choosing Lawrence. Another thing is, um, ok, let's look at my major dating choices of the past. An Indian man who was 12 years older than me and married and a womanizer. A guy who was constantly breaking up with me to date other girls and kept coming back to me when he was horny, eventually to leave me a single mother on my own. (I'm exaggerating for effect, but not by much.) A guy 9 years my junior who's also a womanizer and was most likely just trying to get some play. (And I suspect he would be a selfish lover.) Now let's compare them with Lawrence, who maybe not be as cute as some of the guys in the world, but is honest, kind, loving, thoughtful, would never purposefully hurt me, will be a good provider, is established with a home and car, thinks I'm beautiful and wonderful despite all evidence, likes to buy me things, opens doors for me, is a perfect gentleman, is a member of my religion who actually honors his convenants and beliefs, and is eager to please. He even cooks! And I think he's absolutely adorable. So how can I do better again? Another reason it makes me angry when people say that I can do better is because, and this is the worst part, it make me feel like maybe I can do better. It makes me feel like maybe I am slumming and I should realize my true worth. And I hate feeling that way. I hate how I am so susceptible to doubt and influence of others who don't even know anything about anything. So there. So this is where Kiera jumps in and tells me how perfect Lawrence and I are for each other. At least mom tries to help. The other day she says out of the blue, "I think Lawrence is too good for you, you're too mean for him, he deserves someone better." I can always count on mom to keep my feet on the ground.