How I Spent My Spring Break
This week, I had off from class for "Spring Break." When I was an undergrad, I didn't have money to take trips with friends over Spring Break, and now that I have money, I have no time to do so, as I'm working full-time while getting this graduate degree.
Nonetheless, it was great to have a week off from having to be ready for class with the next reading and writing assignment. Probably, the greatest indulgence of my Spring Break this time was my lunch-time swim with Pat yesterday, since I worked from home.
Here comes the part of this blog-entry that I've been stalling about/avoiding writing, as I feel afraid to include it, but if this blog doesn't let me write honestly, then what's it worth? Here goes:
During our swim, Pat and I started off in two different lanes due to the human-congestion. As I swam to the end of the lane closest to the jacuzzi, I saw a long-legged woman walking toward the ladies' locker-room. She moved me.
A number of the people who swim in our pool are not necessarily attractive, and yet here was this lovely woman. There's always that double-burden as a lesbian -- at least in my case:
- Wow, she's gorgeous!
- Oy! Is she more fit than I?
That is, for me, it's always first the lesbian response followed by a competitive-woman response. The desire and envy are a weird, and common, combo for me.
"Sarah," Pat called to me as I was staring at the woman. I felt embarrassed, caught. I looked over at Pat and she was simply motioning me to join her. Her lane had opened up. If she noticed where my attention had been, she did not let on...but I don't think she even did. I think she was purely excited that we could now share a lane.
Jarred out of my revery, I managed to smile enthusiastically and swam over. Doing laps side-by-side, I thought about the woman some more -- wondered why I'd never before seen her -- and felt ashamed of my finely-tuned radar compared to that of Pat, who didn't even seem to notice the woman...or at least that was my impression, but perhaps, she had just had her fill of her, since the woman must have been swimming in Pat's lane.
Finally, after a guilty lap or so, I smiled to myself, allowing some enjoyment of my beauty-radar. And then just before I had completed my 30-minute swim, a young guy in a faraway lane hoisted himself half-way out of the pool and startled me. What was wrong with me? His broad shoulders and sculpted arms moved me momentarily, too, before I remembered that I wasn't supposed to be interested in men's physiques.
It's just springtime, I guess.
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