To Be Socially Acceptable or Not? THAT is the Question

Actually, it doesn't really need an answer.

Friday night, I popped over to the EV to have a drink with Z. Actually, things with him are feeling a little tied together with bread twisties and Elmer's Glue right now, and a good nor'easter will probably uproot the whole thing. (I think I may actually have to follow the advice of Thubten Chodron after all. I was actually meeting my old friend Steve later on that night to go to a concert at Crash Mansion.

Sound system was abysmal at Sin, so we packed up our kit bags and headed across the street. Walked into Fish Bar and there he is in his corner, like a glowering Cerberus, EVG.

I swear to you, I can HEAR the gates and doors slamming and closing inside my head. I need to pay attention to that. We take seats at the bar, Z placing himself between EVG & me like the East Village's own Guardian of Morality.

I mentioned that I was going to see a band; that the invitation contained my four favorite words in the English language: "No Cover. Open Bar."

His response? "My four favorite words are, 'Take me home now.'"

Love his brazenness.

We went outside to smoke, and there were a couple of folks out there, one of who gave us a sniffy look complete with eyeroll and then she brushed past us to go inside.

"Well, she doesn't like me at all," said EVG.

"Don't worry about it," I replied. "She doesn't like me, either."

"How come she doesn't like you?"

"Ummmmmm ... Maybe she suspects that there is something going on between us? Maybe because I am many things that she is not?" I replied evasively.

"Oh, because you're open and free and you don't have big old stick up your butt?"

Ahem. *smirk*

Which brings me to the subject at hand. I'm done - absolutely DONE - trying to be "socially acceptable" in the EV. You know what? If anyone gives a shit who I am fucking, well, I'm glad you find it interesting. Are you so seriously worried about whom someone is sleeping with that you feel it threatens your way of life or your family's? What business is it of yours? Well, judge away if it makes ya feel better.

Searching to be "socially acceptable" feels too much like a sacrifice of basic humanity in exchange for some sort of political expediency. And frankly, life it too, too short for me to waste time politicking during the times I've stepped away from my "approved" work persona. Holy crap, I want to unwind and be myself when I'm out with my friends, not be reminded that "so-and-so may be able to help you in your career." When I'm out with my friends (and the reasons they love me, I hope) is precisely because I am boisterous and blue-collar and wrong side of the tracks and have a loud unladylike laugh. What I hope people remember about me most is that I laughed without reservation and that I was kind. My friends cross all levels of society and I'm not going to play that "Well, I can't invite so-and-so because someone else might not like him/her." Throw em all into the pot and call it jambalaya. Life tastes better that way.

I realized as I went home in the cab that night that I was actually expending valuable energy trying to get someone to APPROVE of me. Then I realized something else. Something important.

I just don't give a shit if she approves of me or not. As someone once said to me during the 90-day experiment, "What anyone else thinks about me is none of my business." Meaning -- people are going to hold whatever opinion they want, and I can't do anything about it.

I could be Mother Theresa working the charity circuit and performing miracles of healing, I could have a silhouette of Jesus on the old bacon in my refrigerator, and she would still see me as "The Woman Who Slept With the Married Guy and Is Fooling Around With That Tall Guy Who Has a Girlfriend."

And that's okay. People will do what they need to do in order to be comfortable in the world. If that includes pigeonholing me, that's okay, too.

But I don't have to be around it. Let's see, I'm going to willingly put myself into situations where there is a person looking down on me or thinking I am "less than." Wow, I don't think so. I realize that the situation brings up so many of my old, old issues going all the way back to grade school and high school -- that there are the Popular Kids, and the Outsiders, and I am an Outsider. The old me sometimes tried to find a way to get the Popular Kids' approval, but ultimately that dog just didn't hunt. All it did was make me feel weird and uncomfortable, and I realized that this situation was bringing up the same discomfort and weirdness in me.

Besides, I don't really enjoy spending people who take themselves soooooo damn seriously. Jesus Christ in a sidecar, isn't life grim enough? We'd better fucking laugh our asses off every chance we get, and that means at ourselves, too.

As Kudra said: "ERLEICHDA!"

However, there is one thing I need to put out there into the universe, to all the other "Dear Janes" out there, who might hear a whisper about "Janeys" like me.

NEWSFLASH: Just because I slept with a married man, or with someone else's boyfriend, that does not mean that I want YOUR husband or boyfriend. In general, they just aren't good looking or interesting enough to fuck.