I hear the cigarette hoarsened voice as soon as I get out of my car to head in for karate class. “Jean, Jean the dancing machine . . . how are you?”

“I hear that I am conservative. How are you?”

“Good, good. Yeah, you do seem conservative. Don’t you ever just want to put on a bunch of eye shadow, some lipstick and go dancing and drinking?”

“Uh, no.”

“That’s the kind of woman I’m looking for, Jean.”

I hate being thought of as conservative. I have been plagued by the goody-two-shoes characterization since high school. Of course, if this makes me unattractive to a heavy smoking, dirty 60-something-year-old man—I am willing to use it to my advantage. I think that there is a restrained wildness in me that has nothing to do with eye shadow or drinking. It has to do with taking real risks and breaking some rules. Most girls around here look trashy and go out drinking. That ain’t no thang. Telling my supervisor how I really feel about something or teasing the big boss mercilessly are small parts of this.

My conservative veneer has become very evident to me lately as certain people have registered quite a bit of shock when I told them I am going to drive over 400 miles to meet Julio for a weekend of whatever feels right. I am well aware of the risk and the likelihood of pain, but I guess I would rather experience some pain (and a lot of fun) from meeting him and saying goodbye then the disappointment in myself for not taking the chance.

I have decided that I am pretty happy about being free and single at the moment. I ran into a girl I knew from elementary through high school yesterday at the Super Walmart. She used to tease me about being fat and she was never particularly nice to me. She sat on a bench with her small son in the cart beside her. She looked about 60 lbs heavier than she was in high school—not grossly obese, but not all that fit either. I know it’s mean, but I loved that I was standing there in better shape than I had been in my last two years of high school and at a lower weight I think too. I noticed her trying to move out of my line of sight while I waited in the check out. I walked right up to her feeling confident in my comfy cargo pants that I think make the most of my ass and asked her how she was. I think she was shocked because she stammered a little in returning my greeting. Maybe I like to shock people a little. But, I was so happy to not be a dowdy looking mommy with no real career goals and no extra time or money to spend on what I want. It’s not perfect and there are definitely some changes I want to make soon, but I am definitely okay with where my life is.

Love to all.