it is that kind of day
Apr. 24th, 2009 03:08 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
dragonlady7It is the kind of day to drink beers on the front porch.
I have done this.
The high school boys across the street are not very good at lacrosse. The tragic thing is that this is not a gym class. I thought it must be, but Z assures me that it is too late-- school got out over half an hour ago (which I suppose I knew, given the number of disapproving stares I got for sitting on my front porch in a microminiskirt (it's a skating skort, you prudes-- there's shorts under there) displaying considerable acreage of white thigh, with a beer in my hand.
It is worth mentioning that never once have I been stared at, harassed, or in any way accosted or threatened by the teenage boys going past my house in packs and droves (and singly). Despite all my recent "male-bashing"-- most of it in comments or in other venues-- where I've brought up feminist issues regarding to our expectations of treatment by males, I really think that the average American man is, really, a decent person. These boys are obnoxious and dumb, but they see a young-middle-aged (that's what I am, really-- almost 30, I'm way beyond anything these boys should be considering) woman scantily-clad in her own yard, their ingrained response is to avert their eyes and pretend they didn't see her. Suburbanite conditioning (that's [person's] private space, so interactions should be minimal while [person] is there) is stronger than the conditioning that leads to street harassment.
Not to say these boys would never harass a woman, but at least Eastern US manners hold that you Mind Your Own Business. They are loud and obnoxious and holler at their friends and shriek and scream and cut in front of cars recklessly and rev their engines and put their music on loud, but they don't say a word when you're basically naked in your own front yard.
... But their moms give you dirty looks, and (usually unrelatedly) park in your driveway without asking permission. (Though it would be fun if the school's PTA or whatever had like a thing about Naked Chick over on the football-field side of the school. "She's so shameless!! Park across her driveway. Her husband* is totally weird too. Don't block the fire hydrant, because that's wrong, so just pull forward and block their driveway, even if they're currently attempting to use it, because they're just weirdos and deserve that kind of treatment." LOL.)
77
Uh, worth mentioning that it's 3pm and I just had a beer. I don't usually do that. Things I write here may be affected proportionally to how much I never do that. I know it's an odd time to be drinking but it hasn't been 77 [25C] like it is now since probably September so I think it's warranted.
Shit, man, that's seven months. Yeah it's been a while.
_____________________
(*If the footnote is on something in parentheses, should the footnote also be parenthetical?) Everyone in this neighborhood seems to assume Z and I are married. I used to correct them. I don't care now. I suppose that's a subject for another post. Someday.
I have done this.
The high school boys across the street are not very good at lacrosse. The tragic thing is that this is not a gym class. I thought it must be, but Z assures me that it is too late-- school got out over half an hour ago (which I suppose I knew, given the number of disapproving stares I got for sitting on my front porch in a microminiskirt (it's a skating skort, you prudes-- there's shorts under there) displaying considerable acreage of white thigh, with a beer in my hand.
It is worth mentioning that never once have I been stared at, harassed, or in any way accosted or threatened by the teenage boys going past my house in packs and droves (and singly). Despite all my recent "male-bashing"-- most of it in comments or in other venues-- where I've brought up feminist issues regarding to our expectations of treatment by males, I really think that the average American man is, really, a decent person. These boys are obnoxious and dumb, but they see a young-middle-aged (that's what I am, really-- almost 30, I'm way beyond anything these boys should be considering) woman scantily-clad in her own yard, their ingrained response is to avert their eyes and pretend they didn't see her. Suburbanite conditioning (that's [person's] private space, so interactions should be minimal while [person] is there) is stronger than the conditioning that leads to street harassment.
Not to say these boys would never harass a woman, but at least Eastern US manners hold that you Mind Your Own Business. They are loud and obnoxious and holler at their friends and shriek and scream and cut in front of cars recklessly and rev their engines and put their music on loud, but they don't say a word when you're basically naked in your own front yard.
... But their moms give you dirty looks, and (usually unrelatedly) park in your driveway without asking permission. (Though it would be fun if the school's PTA or whatever had like a thing about Naked Chick over on the football-field side of the school. "She's so shameless!! Park across her driveway. Her husband* is totally weird too. Don't block the fire hydrant, because that's wrong, so just pull forward and block their driveway, even if they're currently attempting to use it, because they're just weirdos and deserve that kind of treatment." LOL.)
77
Uh, worth mentioning that it's 3pm and I just had a beer. I don't usually do that. Things I write here may be affected proportionally to how much I never do that. I know it's an odd time to be drinking but it hasn't been 77 [25C] like it is now since probably September so I think it's warranted.
Shit, man, that's seven months. Yeah it's been a while.
_____________________
(*If the footnote is on something in parentheses, should the footnote also be parenthetical?) Everyone in this neighborhood seems to assume Z and I are married. I used to correct them. I don't care now. I suppose that's a subject for another post. Someday.
