Rotten Peaches

In the South, being a woman over 20 who is childless and unmarried is like being a neutered dog at a puppy mill: ie I may as well be dead. Back home, I'm definitely not viewed as someone who has smartly decided to put her own over exaggerated day dreams of success before marriage. I am not a woman living the sticky-kid-less dream -- oh, no. I'm an ancient, moth-eaten, senior citizen who chose new shoes over happiness. Going back to that town to see my current boyfriend can be very, very difficult, especially when I'm around his meridional family members. But to hell with the small town inhabitants if they think I'm a lesbian for wearing all black during the summer, screw them for scoffing at my cut-out knot-front jumpsuit and who says calling my dog my son is wrong? I will always remember what it's like to get out of the car in southern suburbia sporting high-rise linen trousers with people staring and thinking I'm just a little 'off'. Ladies: pop on some Saint Laurent, say goodbye to your old friends over a glass of pink grapefruit vodka and move to the city. I promise it'll be over soon.