Wednesday, 14 October 2015

No woman

You know, I never saw myself getting married.  I didn't have those little girl dreams of white dresses, or any of the other paraphernalia I see going on around weddings.  All those flowers, those thingies you give the guests, the seating plans, the gift list, the choices of desserts, the fastidious designing of cakes.  I can honestly say I didn't give it a thought.  And now, watching a wedding on TV, I'm utterly bemused by the pageantry.  There are speeches and some, frankly, dreadful singing.  There are parents, there are, just so many things.  I'm not a proper girl, I just don't get it.

At work, they're more likely to ask one of the blokes his opinions on cocktails and me my opinion on beer.

I think it's acceptable in late 40s to become that weird androgynous mix, to be neither male nor female, but just a person who, you know, breathes.  Maybe I've grown into me.  I think at 18 I and the same male characteristics I have now, the seeing in straight lines thing, and not really understanding fripperies around the sides.  Nearing 50, maybe I'm finally socially acceptable?

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