I am a SLUT!, a F*%#ing SLUT

This week was a great week. David's been gone to Belgium, and I miss him, and I have been grieving the loss of a dear friend, but in spite of this (or maybe partly because of this), it has been a good week. It started with Easter - the celebration of rebirth and renewal, and ended with Friday the 13th - a magical date that in ancient, pagan times was considered a powerful, good luck day.

Mira and Valerie were on break from school so were both home, hanging around (like not so old times). It was sweet to have my girls around me and to just get used to another phase of what our lives are like now. They are a little older. I am a little older. Life is moving along, unfolding, with the plot building on past elements. The girls and I did some city things together. We went to the vintage markets in Surry Hills (where I left them alone to dig through the groovy, old clothes), and to an exhibit of botanical drawings (that I enjoyed more than them) at the gardens. We also stayed in and cooked, sewed, and watched movies.

I have been feeling more productive and focused, maybe because I have just been plugging along at several projects, or maybe it is my hormones finally leveling out. Maybe I am just getting over the exhaustion and adjustment of moving halfway around the world. Whatever the reason, I feel like a fog has been lifted.

Time seems to be going by quite quickly, and I feel like my work/life/art routine is skipping along in a pretty good balance. I've got sewing, embroidery, drawing, knitting and house decorating projects going on. I am managing to keep housework, family obligations and fitness regime in a tidy box. I am still working on friends/social life, but I am feeling open and positive about that.

My job at the craft store has fallen into a comfortable pattern. I don't know if I am feeling happier, which makes the customers easier to get along with or if it is vice versa. Either way, I find myself looking forward to work, getting through the day with a sense of satisfaction, and really liking the people I work with and many of the people that pass through. I have always been interested in people and their stories, and there is a constant flow of "material" at the store. I also really like having human interaction. I guess I am a sociable person. I just have to stay focused on doing my job as well, and not turning out like the Target character in the Saturday Night Live skit. I laugh to myself when I say "oh, that is so cool. I'm going to have to get one before they are all gone."

Wednesday and Thursday were good days at work, and I was feeling pretty good heading in this morning. I left the girls asleep at home and took the bus as usual. It came on time and I got a seat, so good start. Then I walked the 10 minute walk through the Alexandria neighborhood, and ran to catch the green light at the crosswalk. A line of cars was waiting to turn left (like the American right) on the red. I let one car cut in front of me but then, making sure the next car saw me, I went into the crosswalk. The driver honked at me and started screaming through his closed windows. I stopped and waved my arms at him to say "hey, this is my right of way."

I crossed the street, he drove on, and two or three cars later, a guy in a big truck screamed out his window at me "F%$#ing SLUT!" I was confused, stunned, appalled, annoyed, mostly confused. Was he talking to me? There was no one else around. Besides feeling the slight defensiveness of a pedestrian in morning rush hour traffic, I had to laugh. Who was that person? What made him feel compelled to chime into a minor altercation? Where were his manners? And why did he think that the best insult he could come up with was SLUT?

He obviously didn't know me. If he did, he would know that I'm way too old to be a slut. I don't think I ever was a slut (no one has ever called me that before). But, most importantly, if he knew me, he would know that I laugh at such an empty insult. Am I meant to feel crushed by an allusion to sexual habits? Does he not know that I am a big girl and I don't need him or anyone else telling me how to conduct my private life? Does he not know that I am a feminist, and even if I weren't, this is the 21st century? Does he not know that I have recently seen THIS video, and I laugh at the weakness of the insult?

I tried to think of a proper retort. Obviously, I wouldn't stoop so low as to make a sexual jab, although that would be easy. Obviously, I wouldn't insult his mother, except to say that she didn't teach him very good manners. No, the best insult that I wish I could say to this anonymous fool, is that he was and is a coward. Bullies usually are.

Every other person was kind to me all day. I met several adorable children, a few lovely old women, and friendly, polite men and women of all ages in between. On the way home, when I walked back past the scene of the crime, I half expected a replay, but it was just dusk, more traffic with their lights on now, no horns honking. I walked my little route noticing the magpies swooping on last minute missions before dark, singing out their mournful calls. The sky turning pink along the part of the horizon that I could see over the tops of the buildings.

I felt happy, and grateful for the beauty of life, every bit of it, just having it. When I am in a good mood, I love it all. I guess, if that makes me a slut, then I am a big, fat, sentimental, slut.