Sarahjanus's Blog

November 1, 2010

Angst, under-dressing & camisoles

Angst, (n) an acute but non-specific sense of anxiety or remorse, is a good word to begin today with. Angst is what I am feeling, but out of angst comes under-dressing, a first for me. My Saturday and Sunday were spent in close company with family. These are the people from whom I keep this greatest of secrets. Although I’m sure that once it is out, my wife will say it is not entirely a surprise.

I tolerate the male attire over the weekend frankly, because there is no alternative. They do not all go away at the same time and in fact because it is their weekend, they tend to stay home. Teenagers with part-time jobs will stay home and watch television or play video games before they will go anywhere entertaining that costs them money. My wife has been in a pressure cooker environment for 5 days so she isn’t going anywhere either.

I look forward to Monday morning and an empty house. I have an opportunity to come out of the shadows and into the light of day. Last week I wrote of our house guest, a young man in need of a refuge from the results of his own actions. I expected that he would resolve his situation over the weekend and be gone by today. It isn’t so. To make matters worse, his employer, a construction company is slowing down for the winter season so his hours are being reduced.

This morning I got up to find him already reclining on the couch watching the Military channel. My wife wouldn’t let me change the channel to our normal morning news and talk show. This is the beginning of angst. She caters to him because it feeds her maternal drive to mother and protect whether it is right in the circumstances or not. I believe it is time for us to draw his attention to the difference between refuge and habitation. This is ground zero for an argument. The irony will be if she decides to allow him to live here for the next few months and I end up with two teenagers hanging around the house all day. My privacy will be completely gone.

Once I realized that I was going to have company for the entire day, I had to control my reaction. For observers, it is out of proportion to the issue of a teenager being in the house. I muted it, something that I have been doing my entire life, if you’ve read anything I’ve written about living my entire life according to social expectations. Then I adapted. I was just going to tuck and put on a dressy thong (versus day to day plain) because I need to practice the tuck. I’ve read a host of different web-pages and tried a couple of different ideas but I need practice. I need to be sure the tuck is effective and secure for a reasonable period of time and that it is easily repairable if it un-tucks. Once the thong was on, I yearned for the feel of nylon on my legs so out came the pantyhose. I thought about putting on tights and hoping they passed as socks but I guessed they would be too warm under pants. After the nylons, I went for a camisole under my tee-shirt. There isn’t any bra, no forms, no make-up and there isn’t any wig but that is only rational under the circumstances.

There is a sense of comfort in under-dressing. This is something that I’ve rarely done. On a couple of occasions I have worn pantyhose under pants at work, maybe twice in over 30 years and for a period of time I wore women’s panties instead of men’s underwear, while at work but again that was mere weeks in the face of years.

I was a police officer before I retired. I believed the work environment to be narrow-minded, harshly judgmental and un-accepting of overt homosexuality or cross-dressing. I was always fearful that if I slipped up and was discovered, that I would probably be ridiculed out of the job. I don’t mean to say that the derision would be enough to drive the average person out, but I score high on neuroticism in any personality quiz based on low self-esteem so I wouldn’t (probably) have had the ability to deal with the embarrassment.

For those who are gay, cross-dressers, transgender or transsexual; within the G.T.A. (Greater Toronto Area), these attitudes have changed significantly over the past decades. Organizationally any kind of bias or prejudice is not tolerated and for the most part, the street officers themselves are far more open-minded and accepting. There still are Neanderthals out there but even they know that their attitudes are out-of-line and they have to conform to organizational norms or expect sanctions. I know there are still incidents but at least the offenders can be expected to be sanctioned now when the issues are reported.

So, I’m under-dressing in my own house. I will close with an amusing anecdote from the weekend. Early in my shopping, I bought three camisoles, varying in color and the amount of lace edging. After some time, I put them away because I didn’t wear them very often. Later again, I sorted through my clothes and took some wrong size, wrong style clothes off to the Goodwill. More recently, I went looking for the camisoles and couldn’t find them. I hunted high and low with no success. I’ve written before about being diagnosed as ADD and being certain that my un-doing will be my lack of attention to detail. I thought this was going to be the detail.

On Saturday morning, I was in my closet, (a walk-in) getting clothes to wear for a morning appointment, talking to my wife who was in the other room. I chose a shirt that I rarely wear because I don’t like the effect of the pattern. As I unbuttoned it and pulled it off the hanger, there was one of the camisoles, hanging from the inner hanger hooks. My moment of panic was followed by a hasty grab and the camisole was shoved away in a drawer.

Once my appointment was done and I was back home, I dedicated some time to “tidying up my closet” and “sorting out summer and winter clothes” but you know what, I couldn’t and haven’t yet found the other two camisoles. It just constantly lurks in the back of my mind, that if I don’t find them under circumstances of my choosing, I’m going to find them under less suitable circumstances.

I know the Commandments say thou shalt have no other God before me, and I’m good with that, but if any of you happen to be praying to the Saint of clothes or closets, could you ask him (or her) to pass along a hint to me, as to where those other two camisoles are. Thanks, much appreciated.

And now, (big drum rolllllllllll), I’m going out shopping (groceries) under-dressed just for the self-satisfaction.


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