mistaken identity

So, when Andorus waved to the one person who had signed her guestbook, I naively assumed it was me, and IM’ed her about it. Which resulted in a perfectly nice conversation with absolutely no funny coincedences, even after we realized that I hadn’t actually signed her guestbook after all, had never taken Applied Viola courses, and was not named Kat. The only glimmer of serendipity is that each of us claims to like Irish music, which is a coincidence for which I’m not ungrateful. (Did I just write that? *convolution overload*)

My aunt’s baby shower was today. It was cute, a roomful of women oohing and aahing over tiny socks. Meanwhile, all the associated men were hauling furniture with my uncle, since they’ve just bought a new, more baby-riffic house. Though I’ve dimly noted the gender divisions at family gatherings before, it never really made an impact on me until today. Not in a “geez, I’m related to a bunch of sexist bastards, bring on the feminist ray gun” sort of way, but in a “whoa, why did I just go to a baby shower when I would probably have had more fun hauling furniture?” sort of way. (To be perfectly honest, I was tired this morning, and didn’t feel up to volunteering myself for heavy labor. On the other hand, had I been one of my male cousins, I probably would have been commandeered.) Amazing how you can fail to notice these things until you’ve already eaten the baby food.

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