{"id":6113,"date":"2007-03-15T11:15:01","date_gmt":"2007-03-15T15:15:01","guid":{"rendered":"http:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=6113"},"modified":"2015-05-30T10:33:52","modified_gmt":"2015-05-30T14:33:52","slug":"dear-staring-lady-on-the-bus","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/?p=6113","title":{"rendered":"Dear Staring Lady on the Bus:"},"content":{"rendered":"

Got a couple questions. I’m not mad<\/i> that you were staring. I just have some questions.<\/p>\n

I cannot figure out why you were staring at me the entire ride. And so I began to obsess about possible boogers, bird shit in my hair, or … What is wrong? I wasn’t wearing a cleavage-busting lace corset, striped tights, and hi-tops at 8 in the morning, I wasn’t wearing a crimson cloak and waxen fangs. I realize I wouldn’t fit in with the zombie-clone-girls on The Bachelor<\/i> – but I’m not THAT off the mark. You didn’t seem<\/i> like a crazy staring homeless <\/i>lady. You were well-dressed, normal-looking … and yet you found me unbeliev<\/i>ably fascinating, and could not keep your eyes<\/i> off me – until I got so paranoid that I had to say to you directly, “What?” I didn’t really want an answer, by the way, I just wanted to remind you that I am actually alive<\/i> and right here<\/i> and not a movie<\/i> – and that I can see that you are staring at me<\/i>. It worked. It was only then that you looked away.<\/p>\n

Now, to the questions:<\/p>\n

Were you staring because:<\/p>\n

— I was wearing a puffy down coat even though it’s about 90 degrees today?<\/b> That’s a possibility. Yes. I’m way over-dressed today. It FELT like it was chilly … but I was basically totally wrong. But still: is that any call to stare at me for 20 minutes straight? Get over it. I’m wearing a down coat and it’s warm out. Get over it.<\/p>\n

— I am wearing “crocs” today<\/b>. Hideous<\/a>, yes, I know, well-dressed lady, but so comfortable<\/i>. They’re like my Birkenstocks. Hideous<\/a>, true. Most comfortable shoes ever. To quote my first boyfriend’s fashion credo: “Comfort is key.” Comfort is key. I know I wouldn’t make the cut on The Bachelor<\/i> wearing these ugly things, but I don’t want<\/i> to fit in with zombie clone girls in their pastel blue, and their black pants, and their long straight hair, and their pointy-toed heels. I don’t LIKE that look and I resist it openly. But here’s the real deal: I’ll wear flip flops with a goddamn ballgown if I want to, and you’re just gonna have to cope.<\/p>\n

— I have my hair in a ponytail<\/b>. I’m obviously grasping at straws here. What is so weird about a ponytail? Are you that rigid? I hope not. It makes me sad for you.<\/p>\n

— My empty gym bag sitting on the seat next to me<\/b> I don’t know why this would cause someone to stare so doggedly – but just in case you were so baffled<\/i> by the fact that I don’t carry a purse like you, but carry a gym bag – here’s the deal: I go to the gym on occasion. So there’s THAT. I carry my sneakers around with me, as well as a sports bra, T-shirt, deodorant and also a towel – because the towels at the gym are the size of a Kleenex and won’t fit around my hips, and I don’t go to the gym to be reminded of my fat<\/i> thankyouverymuch. So all of this requires a gym bag. Just in case you’re wicked<\/i> confused by that. Also, it’s empty because I have to cart a bunch of crap around today – from one location to another – including a huge bamboo plant – and I honestly don’t know how I am going to manage it, but hopefully the gym bag will come in handy. Second of all, if you were staring because it took up a whole seat: the bus was nearly empty. Nobody needed the seat.<\/p>\n

— When I laughed out loud while reading 1776<\/a>\"\"<\/i><\/b> Now this, I grant you, might warrant staring. If that’s the reason, I completely understand. Because I’m used to people thinking I’m crazy. Like the time when I wept on the PATH train because I was reading a speech Vaclav Havel made in 1990. Weeping. Openly<\/i>. If anyone had asked me, “Are you okay?” and I had said, “No, it’s fine, just crying about a speech Vaclav Havel made almost 20 years ago …” I mean, come on, that’s nuts. I don’t expect people to cut me slack in that regard. So yes. I am reading 1776<\/i>, and I guffawed briefly – when reading about Joseph Reed rebuffing the British from seeing “Mr. Washington” – Reed said, “Sir, there is nobody here by that name”. An aggressive-aggressive way of saying “Give Washington the respect he deserves. He’s not Mr<\/i>.” Anyway, I was delighted by the scene – although I know it well – and so I laughed out loud. Perhaps this caught your attention – and then you saw me laughing, and looked at the book cover to see what was so funny … perhaps a joke book? Or Devil wears Prada<\/i>? Or something, you know, funny<\/i>?? Nope. 1776<\/i> brought on the guffaws. I can see how that might make you stare.<\/p>\n

For 20 minutes straight, though?<\/p>\n

This reminds me – that Patrick dared me once to walk around an entire day dressed like Louisa May Alcott<\/a> – huge dress, big bonnet – and not act like it was a costume, or weird at all. To just go about my day … yet dressed like that<\/i>. I seriously might have to do that. It could be hysterical. I’d have to have someone come along with me though to surreptitiously take pictures of me as I – dressed like a woman in 1865 – walk through Times Square.<\/p>\n

It could be a great lazzi<\/a><\/i>.<\/p>\n

So thanks for the idea, Staring Lady on the Bus!! Look for me in the next couple of months! I’ll be the chick in the hoop skirt and the bonnet. Howling with laughter on the bus as I read The Decline and Fall of the Roman Empire<\/a>\"\"<\/i>.<\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"

Got a couple questions. I’m not mad that you were staring. I just have some questions. I cannot figure out why you were staring at me the entire ride. And so I began to obsess about possible boogers, bird shit … Continue reading →<\/span><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":2,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"closed","ping_status":"closed","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":[],"categories":[3],"tags":[1573],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6113"}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/2"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=6113"}],"version-history":[{"count":4,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6113\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":103238,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/6113\/revisions\/103238"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=6113"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=6113"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/www.sheilaomalley.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=6113"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}