It's just a surface scratch!

*oops, self-absorbed rant ahead*

So walking down the street today, I had an overwhelming sense of being invisible.
I had new black shiny girly shoes, blue jeans, new tittie top (wow, now I know who the straight boys are!), a butterfly hair clip, a fancy shopping bag and shiny sunnies.
I didn't look like a freak.
In my head I wanted to shake people and say - 'no really, I am one of you, I'm queerer than you think, I like bloodsports and pain and kink dressups and I'm dating the yummiest tranny boy you've ever met, no really!'
I looked like an eastern suburbs straight-girl in town for a spot shopping in 'colourful' Newtown!
Worried for a moment that I should've put on better (read: more visibly queer) glad rags. But knew I wasn't able to face clothing crisis this morning, so basically wore work clothes really.
Thought perhaps I need a shirt that reads 'Local', but that's a bit wanky. People'll think I'm one of the yuppies that moved in *grins*.
Yeah, so I did move in from an eastern suburbs life, leaving behind the straight boyfriend, dachshund, VW Golf, wine tastings, petanque, white picket fence. Okay, so it wasn't really that shiny, but even then, with those acoutrements, I was still doing work for the Bi community, going to hellfire, making floggers on the coffee table, shagging girls on the weekends.

Anyway, maybe I'll make a shirt that read "I only look straight..."?
I mean, I love the juxtaposition between the ordinary and the kink. Why else would I incorporate being a Librarian into my identity as much as my fondness for cutting peoples skin or being spanked and flogged?

Or perhaps, now that I've ranted, I could just let it go. *laughs*
Geez, I worry too much about what other people think.
*wanders away shaking head*