Today has been a little odd. First, as I was driving from Costco to Trader Joe's, running necessary but irritating errands, I suddenly remembered a bizarre dream I had last night. Normally my dreams are a bit strange, but often they're too chaotic to remember properly, and I don't write them down upon waking like I really ought to. Anyway, I only remembered a piece of this dream.
In the dream, Rob and I were going to have a baby. I was giving birth in a standing position, and then a nurse or midwife held the baby up for us. It took me a moment to realize that the baby had eight limbs instead of the usual four--it was the size of a normal infant, but it had four little arms ending in tiny fists and four little legs dangling down, like some bizarre human-octopus hybrid. I was strangely calm and accepting of this.
That's all I remember. I hope that isn't a prophetic dream telling me we're destined to have freak children. Any kids we might or might not have would probably be weird enough just being born into a family with two artists for parents, and not because we've been eating the cadmium red. (Which we haven't been. Just a joke.)
The second weird thing that happened today was in Trader Joe's. I was buying some groceries and a case of two-buck Chuck when the cashier asked me for my ID (argh). I showed it to him, and the following conversation ensued:
Cashier (peering at me suspiciously): Are you sure this is you?
Me: ...
Cashier: It's not, like, your sister or something?
Me (flatly): I can take my hair down if you want. [My hair was in a post-gym ponytail, while my ID picture has my hair loose.]
Cashier (completing transaction): No, it's OK. It's just you look really young. (Said in a tone that was somehow apologetic and still suspicious at the same time.)
Me (flatly and insincerely): Thank you.
What I really hated about this was that HE made ME feel uncomfortable, like I didn't have any right to buy my case of wine, so then I felt embarrassed and nervous and probably acted like a nervous kid illegally buying booze. Not that it doesn't say 1977 right there on my driver's license, with a picture that is clearly me and actually DOES LOOK like me. The point is, I was made to feel weird about buying something I have every right to buy and have had the right to buy for almost 11 years now. And, I swear to you, I'm pretty sure I look at least 21. I don't look like a minor, unless you are very very old. I know cashiers are required to card you if you look under 30, and that's fine, but they don't have to make me feel self-conscious about it.
Anyway, rant over. It was just a strange situation because I don't think that the validity of my ID has ever been questioned before. Here's hoping I have a much more conventional remainder of the day. Writing...blogging...ahh.
4 comments:
Enjoy it while it lasts. the day will come when you will miss being asked for your ID.
Am now going to crumple tissues in a fit of jealousy.
I suppose that's true. I'll probably have wrinkles and gray hairs by then...but at least I'll be able to point to them as some sort of proof.
I theorize that this is "size-ism," actually. I think people look down at all 5' 1.5" of me and see someone who couldn't possibly be tall enough (or, in this town, perhaps fat enough) to be an adult.
Absolutely, enjoying the carding while it lasts!
I wish I had more dreams. I don't seem to dream very much, or maybe it's just that I don't remember them.
Here's to you having happier dreams from here on out:-)
I got carded up until I was 25. Whenever I bitched about it, I wondered why people's smiles looked a little stiff and forced. I've got a nice stiff, forced smile on my face right now, my dear...
As for your dream, I've had similar! Not for nothing did Mary Shelley write Frankenstein when she was pregnant. I think in one dream I had a baby that looked like a camel and was as furry as a tarantula. I remember feeling nervous that I was supposed to love it.
Post a Comment