Standing in the aisle at Party City, waiting for 1 to decide that she doesn't want any of the costumes, I look at the fishnet stockings. Astonishingly, I consider buying a pair. Red? Black? Purple? Wait a minute! Why would I want these things? I feel all right about my aging body in an abstract kind of way, but fishnet stockings are far too concrete. Someone might actually look at my legs.
My husband and I may go to a Halloween party. That is, he will go and I may go too. There will likely be many people there whose names I am supposed to know, since I played soccer with them all summer, but they're almost all men. Male names are very hard to remember, so frequently monsyllabic and gutteral.
If I can remember their names, I'd rather spend a social evening with men than women, I think. I'm not sure why I have more fun with men my age than women; sometimes I think that I must be an attention-hungry flirt; other times I think I'm more "male" than most women. Neither answer makes me 'specially happy. Good thing I like spending lots of time alone.
Maybe I'll go as an earthworm.
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