NO PEANUTBUTTER WITH THIS JELLY
30 May 2002
"...a thin, burst-proof liquid-filled membrane that permits two surfaces to glide
smoothly over one another."
No, I wasn't ambling down the aisles of The Pleasure Chest, checking all the sex toys.
"The constant motion of liquid provides flotation to greatly reduce pressure
points, eliminate friction, and absorb shock before they can be transmitted to the soft
tissues of the body."
No, the Astroglide Salesperson hadn't just left the office, leaving behind a box of
samples for us to give out.
"HFS is liquid padding comfort."
I was reading the label that came with my new queen size padded biking shorts.
I arrived home from The Farmers' Market tonight and there was a package from the
Junonia catalog hidden behind the five gallon jug of water under the box with the envelope
with new work from the Psychiatrist hanging on it.
It was a zillion degrees outside and I'd been walking around downtown at the market and
back to the car, which I'd parked several blocks away (now that I'm such a jockette, I
didn't mind the walk). I'd been munching on sweeter than sugar organically grown
strawberries as I drove home in David's clunker car, without air conditioning. The sweat
was pouring down my forehead and stinging my eyes.
I had forgotten I'd ordered these biking shorts; I was still waiting for some regular
loose shorts from Just My Size, so I immediately went into the bathroom and stripped off
the hot slacks I'd been wearing and ripped open the Junonia package, thinking I'd put on
But there it was: My biking outfit. Padded bike shorts and a lightweight jersey to wear
with it (guaranteed to "breathe"). My commitment to continuing to bike. With all
the toys and clothes I've bought thus far, I'm in it so far financially that there's no
turning back now.
I tried on the shorts, watching all the cellulite bumps rippling as I pulled them up.
They felt definitely...different. Haggie described feeling as if a you're riding on a
maxipad. I can understand.
Before I took up biking, I had no idea that biking shorts were more than just skin
tight spandex. I had never heard of "liquid membranes" and never thought I'd be
looking forward to something to pad my already naturally amply padded derriere.
But on the first long bike ride--the 12 mile trip I took with Haggie several weeks
ago-- even though I was seated on what Secra describes as "Butt-D-Luxe," a big
plushy ol' bike seat, my butt still did its fair share of complaining about abuse. It's
grumbled a lot since then and it's never entirely let me forget that 12 mile ride. (How
many of you have conversations with your butt?)
So I don't care if my cellulite jiggles or my butt looks silly with a liquid membrane
stuffed inside, if it makes the butt stop complaining, it will be worth the price. I can
hardly wait for the next Boob outing.
The biking shorts weren't the first new clothes I'd worn today. When I got out of the
shower, I went through my new routine once a week or so--trying on "outgrown"
clothes. Each time I do this, I find more things I can wear again.
About eight years ago, I bought an electric blue pattern blouse. I loved the color and
I thought it might almost fit.
It didn't come close.
I thought I might be able to wear it as kind of a layered look--find something white
and pretend I really meant for this to be kind of a loose fitting jacket.
But I couldn't get my arms through the sleeves.
Today it went on as if I'd been wearing it forever. And I looked good. It was
just exactly the way I'd hoped it would look. The perfect color for me. I got the lovely
slacks that Peggy sent for Christmas and tucked the blue blouse in and I was very
pleased with the look. I was feeling so good about the way I looked that when I had to
stand up and give a 30 second talk at LeTip today, I didn't even stammer or trip over my
words--Mercury retrograde or not.
There was no time to change into cooler clothes after work, before I met my friends Sam
and Coco at the Market. Both women raved about how good I looked. We sat on the cement
steps listening to the high school band and talking about life, love and everything else,
and then we walked through the market, buying berries (me) and cactus (them) and ended up
at the Gay Pride table where Ellen and Shelly both asked me why I was so dressed up and
told me how good I was looking.
It's so unusual to get this kind of attention. I loved it.
I wonder if they'll think I look as good when I start waddling down the aisle with a
maxipad in my backside and cellulite peeking out from underneath the spandex.