Today, a man stopped me on the street and asked if I wanted him to be my lover. This was particularly tacky, because before that, I'd told him I have a fiance, and that my fiance has cancer.
Then I remembered how dominant I used to get when I lived in SF and people talked to me on the street. Joe told me he felt the most safe with me around creepy people (particularly creepy homeless people). I pushed a guy on the beach when he tried to hug me, after I'd denied him a cigarette. I yelled when some creep came up to Camille, Ayumi, and I and stuck his hand down his pants. I pulled some Matrix-style reflex out of the air when a dude tried to put his hat on my head. Somewhere in Germany, somewhere from the helpless looks I had when people would try to talk to me in a foreign language, I became helpless. When I first moved back to the US, through sheer force of conditioning, I was unbearably nervous in restaurants when it came to be my time to order -- in my own language.
I have no end to this post. Just stuff I was thinking about.
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