I just got back from having dinner with my wonderful friend Dee. I met her last year while she volunteered for Mautner Project, just after things fell apart with my last relationship. Dee is such a wonderful person, she offered me her spare bedroom after I shared with her that I was looking for a new place, and that trying to live with my ex until I found a roommate was absolutely unbearable. She did this after a mere 10 minutes of talking and not knowing me from another lesbian on the street.
And now, just over a year later, Dee is helping me again. Not only did she remind me her spare bedroom is always available to me should I need it, she even offered to loan me some money if I found myself in a tight situation. I was humbled and speechless as she insisted I ask her for help, telling me she would help in any way that she could.
Thinking back to my Tarot reading, I have to wonder if Dee is the human form of one of my angels. :smile:
The ultimate point to this entry, which applies to the title, was my catch-up with Dee about my leaving Mautner and searching for new employment. She immediately inquired if I had nice interview clothes, to which I replied I had not purchased anything really dressy since I’d lost this last chunk of weight. I said my intention was to purchase something on Monday with my next paycheck, to which she replied that we were right next to the mall and she’d be happy to spot me some cash for a nice outfit. Her logic was, what if I got called for an interview *this* week? What was I going to do then?
Those who know me know I hate imposing, and asking for financial help has always been a difficult thing for me. I’ll help others out with money in a heartbeat if I am able to, but I simply hate having to ask for myself. That being said, my attempt at saying, “I really appreciate it, Dee, but I can’t do that to you,” didn’t get me very far.
So, I agreed that we could hit Macy’s after dinner. Oh, but she didn’t stop there.
To give you a little background: Being the stylish and relatively well-to-do lesbian that she is, Dee has critiqued my choice in mens apparel because of the way the pants I purchase sag in the ass. When she met me last year, I was 30 pounds heavier than I am now. Whenever she sees me, she makes it a point to tell me I should buy clothes that better show off my figure. I’ve always just smiled or laughed it off and allowed her to stand behind me to tug my jeans upward.
History now established, you shouldn’t be surprised as you read that Dee highly suggested we take a look in the womens section.
I know my mouth went agape and the french fry I had been chewing now showed itself as mashed potatoes on my tongue.
I tried to reason with her. I’ve been wearing mens clothes for 12 years… I can’t stand how womens pants settle on my waist… I haven’t a clue what size I am… I wouldn’t have any idea what is stylish and what would look good on me… etc., etc.
My attempts were in vain. While she did not insist the only way she’d help me is if I left the store with womens attire, she did ask that we at least take a look, and that she was certain she could find something I would look smashing in for an interview.
Okay. I can at least look, I thought. That shouldn’t be too bad. But my stomach was already knotting with anxiety.
We leave the restaurant, head over to Macy’s and up the escalator to the womens section. For each step the escalator inched upward, my stomach tied itself into another knot. I tried to chat about mundane things, all the while listening to my subconscious ask me what the fuck was I doing?
We reached the floor and I just stopped. I had no idea where to go, after all. Dee was already making a beeline to the right to a display of those suits that get their foundation from mens suits, but are tailored for a woman’s body. I followed. I will admit that I’ve always thought those suits are attractive… on other women. I did not think I could pull one off at all.
Stopping at a rack of dress slacks, Dee begins reaching for pairs and holding them up to my waist as I stand there looking around, feeling like the entire store is staring at me. Mind you, I was wearing baggy cargo pants and a Polo shirt. Mens, of course. I felt like I had a huge arrow bobbing up and down over my head, shouting in a sing-song voice, “Lookee here! A dyke in the womens section! Lookee here!”
After a few moments of this, Dee asked me to pick a pattern I liked.
Ummm… I looked at a black and white pinstripe pair, a pair that was, for lack of a better color description, brown with red and black pinstripes…. then, I just blinked a few times, swallowed past the dryness in my throat and said, “can we please go to the mens section?”
Dee just laughed. I think she could tell how panicked I had become. She said the only reason she wasn’t going to press harder at trying on womens clothing was because one of the biggest parts of an interview is being comfortable with yourself physically. If you’re not, then that uncomfortable feeling carries over into the actual interview.
Thank Buddha! I totally agree!
We made it to the mens section and in FIVE minutes I picked out a pair of black Calvin Klein dress slacks and a reddish Tommy Hilfiger oxford. Finding some fitting rooms, I tried on the outfit, showed it to Dee and in 15 minutes flat we were walking back to her car.
Yay! Now I’m prepared for an interview should I be given the opportunity at some point this week. If not, that’s okay, too. I want to find a good fit for me. At least I know I’ll look good going into each interview now. :wink:
Current Mood:
Amused & 
Grateful/Thankful
Exhausted