Kind of a bumpy spring break so far, and nothing crystallized that like my shopping experiences last Saturday.

To set the scene for you, I was dressed in a rather nondescript way. I had on a plain, long-sleeve black shirt, a kind of netted dark-blue sweater over that, and a pair of Prana rock knickers. Add to that a pair of Chacos and voila. Oh, and my toenails are still painted, but they’re kind of a pale orange. Not like you notice them from a distance.

So it was with some surprise that, while I was shopping in Reno, I managed to be called a fag a few times. Then, on the way home, was an object of official and unofficial ridicule while waiting to pay at a gas station.

I’ve said it before: I’m not strong. I don’t have a thick skin. These sorts of things take a toll on me.

On the other hand, there seems to be a very strong current of mocking the other in our society, and I can’t see how it’s going to become something I don’t have to deal with. Especially as I express myself in a more feminine way in the future.

Though I can’t imagine how it would have gotten to be had I been carrying a purse…