I might as well be completely honest. I am happy. I have that comfortable feeling that I've had at times throughout my life - the feeling that I am lucky, and I am getting away with something. I have the feeling that I am trusting my instincts, and I am now in a position to reap the benefits.
I don't want much, and I have plenty of practice not having much. My expectations are low, so small wins come easily. There are nine of us living in this house in Austin. It is a perfect situation for somebody like myself who does not give a fuck about hardly anything. Somebody got home at 2:30am, and then it sounded like they were banging a hammer on the table in the common area. For awhile. No problem. Everybody does what they feel like they need to do.
I interact and socialize with the other roommates. I sit on the porch for hours every day. I am the only person here with a private entrance, and my door opens onto the front porch. I sit and read books, and sometimes cook a little pot of something. Sometimes my housemates come and sit with me. I like to hear what everybody is up to. Interesting people live in this house. Conversation has been great.
I'm using dating apps now. First time. There was a flurry of swiping at first, but now I'm pretty much over it. I'm timid about sex and I don't like putting effort into getting it. I don't have a type. I don't like trying to market myself. I'm using Tinder and Bumble to transmit radio waves and see if anybody is listening to the same frequency. If we start messaging, I pretty quickly reveal my authentic self, because I can't help it. All I can do is make jokes, and being candid is too amusing to avoid.
I've wanted to walk around wearing a skirt for years. I bought a pack of bright colorful liquid lipsticks, and never mustered the courage to wear any. I want to be the most authentic and uninhibited version of myself, but with so many variables to corral, it isn't easy to figure out who that is. I feel like a chameleon. I speak differently depending on my surroundings or who I'm talking to. I am equally comfortable talking to anybody, and I am curious about nearly everybody. I judge nobody, because look at me: who am I to judge?
Orange lipstick and a two-week beard isn't my look. It wasn't terrible. Maybe nix the beard and try light blue. Painting my nails feels normal, but I would like another pop of color on special occasions. I've saved some YouTube tutorials on sewing an easy skirt, but it was easier to find a frilly short one at a clothing swap. I met up with somebody from Tinder for brunch and a clothing swap. I think I made a friend.
I never used to wear bicycle shorts. I've recently discovered that I love them. They eliminate the problem of underwear bunching up, they hold everything in place, and the padding is comfortable. Bike shorts are also the perfect article to wear under a short frilly skirt. Especially if you are bicycling. That's how I dressed for the last Thursday social ride. It was easy, because that was one of the least weird things on that ride. Being totally sober felt way weirder than wearing a frilly skirt in public for the first time.