Happy Sunday to everyone.
My whirlwind visit to see my parents and sister in Massachusetts is over. I've returned to the desert of Nevada.
If you're reading this, I'm not sharing it on the "big" social media sites because aside from the people mentioned above, I never let anyone know I was coming. Lifelong friends, uncles, aunts, cousins? Nope!
It was a nice visit.
To travel, I didn't wear a dress or skirt to fly but for my flight to Bradley Airport from Vegas, I was in the correct clothes. I wore a pair of women's XL tan shorts, a green, lace trimmed sleeveless top with a blouse over it, padded bra with "D" size breastforms, sterling turtle post earrings and my newer heeled sandals. When I went through security in Vegas, my carryon was set aside for additional inspection. The inspector said the "newbie" on the scanner probably had never seen CD's before. Like, compact discs. She then went on to say that in Vegas they see everything as there "adult" conventions in town. If anyone looked at me, I was obvious for what I am. I am not ashamed of who and what I am! Part of my daily wardrobe is a bra and breastforms and I didn't skip any days out there. I'd slept in a sleeveless cotton nightgown and when I'd get up, I'd change into an oversized tee and leggings. I really should have worn the leggings more! They would have been nice on the Cape!
Last year's trip was filled with seeing new sights and sites, exploring old favorites and keeping the parents busy. We explored Hartford and Boston and walked for miles.
This year, my sister and I had agreed that we needed to have a "sit down" with our parents to find out about their "plans" for things when their time comes. It was something we'd been dreading and we feared that they'd be unwilling to share personal and financial details but we were wrong. The meeting was mostly positive. I don't know if they're willing to take some of the steps we think are necessary, like setting up a trust or a durable power of attorney, though.
All considered it was a nice visit but that does not touch on the real winning portion of the vacation. On Tuesday I ventured to Cape Cod for an overnight stay. Look out world, Heather's on the move! I was going to do the whole thing "pretty" but the weather was not real nice so my top half was pretty and the bottom half was drab aside from my sandals!
The drive from Western Mass to the motel in Eastham was uneventful. I'd arrived just after the 3:00 pm check-in time and the owner was about to leave to get his kids from school and had left the room key on the front door of the office. I try to support local and family owned businesses when possible. The place was empty, two other guests. It pays to travel off-season!
After unloading the car, setting my belongings in the room and sitting for a short time to gather my wits I decided to start my exploration of Provincetown. The weather was damp and a light rain was falling so I again decided to keep the drab on the bottom and wore dangling bead earrings, a tight green tee shirt with a zippered fleece jacket over, it was never zipped. It was SO humid, I was almost too warm. It is hard to present yourself with grace and dignity when it seems to be 100% humidity.
I walked along bustling Commercial Street to see what was there. I didn't go into any shops or stores aside from the Marine Specialties shop. This was one thing I wanted to see because I remember going there with my parents when I was little. I also remember begging them to get me a rubber boat to use at the beach near where we vacationed in Brewster. I never got a rubber boat. I bought some postcards and small gifts for the family but didn't see anything I "needed" enough to buy and tote back to the desert. After spending a couple hours looking at the crazy stuff in that store, I was getting hungry. I walked up and down Commercial Street (which was no longer filled with pedestrian and bicycle traffic) trying to decide what I'd eat. I'd made the mistake of calling my wife and she was distracted by all places I could visit and really not being helpful in making an informed decision for my dinner.
I finally chose to eat at the Lobster Pot. It was a good choice. Certainly more than I'm used to spending for a meal but when you're on vacation, you're not bothered by splurging.
So.... about the Lobster Pot. I walk in and the maître d' greets me by saying "Welcome back." Um.... thank you? I replied. I proceeded to the hostess station get seated. My server comes over and says to me, "welcome back. You were here on Sunday, weren't you?" I replied, "Nope, I haven't been to P-town since the late 70's or early 80's." Heather clearly has a twin who visited P-town on September 29th.
After dinner, P-Town is sleepy. I'm not into the "lifestyle" of partying, clubs and loud music so I get back to the car and drive around town. I go to Race Point to watch the lights and the stars and after a while head back to the motel using Rt 6A.
Wednesday morning I slept in, make the "room coffee" and choke it down wondering why there's never enough sugar and creamer for a real person? Check out is 11:00 a.m. I'm gone by 10:30, on the road back toward P-Town! I stop along the way at Coast Guard beach. Since it's now raining I go with the drab bottom, nice top once again. I stop at the edge of the road because the few spaces are filled and sit watching the ocean for about five minutes. Two cars decide to leave and I pull up and get out. A woman with a Subaru walks over and strikes up a conversation about my rental Subaru asking if I like it or have battery problems? We chatted for probably ten minutes and we went our separate ways, me to the beach and her waiting for her gentleman companion. The beach is deserted aside from people about a half mile away and the "gentleman companion" who is using a metal detector to search for treasure. Next, I wanted to see a lighthouse so I went to Highland Light.
The weather cleared up, the rain stopped again and I pulled on the maxi-dress I'd brought to wear to P-Town. It took some work to take the steps involved in getting out of the car but I did it! My motivating affirmation was "if you don't get out of the car in Provincetown, you'll never do it anywhere!" I went into the first store I saw and struck up a conversation, it was a women's clothing store. I would have gotten a top or skirt but I'm bigger than the store's target market. The woman clerk was pleasant. We shared a great conversation about the differences between native foods of her Himalayan homeland and the US.
I visited many shops including the Human Rights Campaign store. The clerk and I spoke about me being out and "out." They were aware of Western Mass and spent time in Northampton which is not far from my hometown. At the Provincetown Tourism office, I once again was greeted with a "Welcome back!" It really is unnerving in a way, I hope she's a good person and not some kind of jerk giving my Heather a bad name. After talking with the representative, Tag, about our journeys in life. His from the deep south where it isn't easy to be a gay man and mine to accepted as Heather for what seemed like a half an hour I was on my way again. In search of food. I had not eaten breakfast so I went into an ice cream/pizza shop for a slice. I think it was the only place I was greeted as "sir." I'd have thought the dress was a strong enough indicator. Well, we can't win them all.
I'd be remiss to not describe my attire for the flight home. Since it was cold there I wore jeans, my sandals, a short sleeve shirt, an almost sheer white top with a maroon camisole under and a black bra/"D" forms beneath. Going through security at Bradley Airport, my many clothing layers and forms prompted the screener to give me a "pat down." Same as last year, I had a TSA guy poke my breast.
Now that I've had this P-Town experience, I'm thinking about events I can attend. Soon, Diva Las Vegas will be here and a year from now Fantasia Fair will be back. Maybe, I'll take a real vacation next year and try Fantasia Fair 2020.
Again, all considered it was a great visit to the Best Coast.
Thanks for reading my latest update.
Heather.
No comments:
Post a Comment