The Conversations I Didn't Have

Yesterday was a really enjoyable day for me.  After going to the gym I met a new girlfriend, N, for lunch (I mentioned her a couple of weeks ago after our dinner together- her husband is a colleague of Kenny's).  We gabbed all through lunch, walked around Notting Hill and Kensington and then came back to my flat for a drink.  Afterwards I met another girlfriend, K, for drinks.  These women have one thing in common- they never knew me when I was at my heaviest.  They know me as a heavy woman but not as someone who is knock, knock, knockin' on heaven's door due to her weight.  I am amazed on how this changes the dynamic of our conversations... and more specifically, how it changes the actual conversations we had. 
  
With each of these women I discussed weight (not numbers obviously), dieting, working out, jogging, etc.  We openly discussed foods that we are willing to splurge on vs. foods that aren't worth the splurge, how to make it through a long workout (especially when the iPod dies) and on and on and on.  We discussed clothing and shopping.  K, who is barely a size 2, even talked about how she got 'fat' when she moved to London.  Her concept of fat is significantly different from mine (I think she gained 6 lbs or so), and I almost giggled when she talked about getting fat, but it was so refreshing to speak with a girlfriend who was not overly edited around me.  It was like a whole new world!  When I was at my heaviest, girlfriends and I could NEVER talk about any of these things.  I didn't work out, I couldn't shop at the same stores as my friends and I even got to the point where my feet got too fat for nice shoes.  And as ridiculous as it is to hear a woman who wears a size 2 talk about being fat, it was comforting to feel 'normal' enough that she would even say something so silly to me. 
   
I never noticed all of the conversations I wasn't having back when I wasn't having them.  Now that friends and I are comfortable talking about so many topics that were off limits not too long ago, I really appreciate this change in circumstance.  I spoke with my mom this morning and mentioned this.  Mom can be pretty brilliant and she said that girlfriends wouldn't speak with me about working out or clothing any more than friends would discuss paintings or nuances of colors with a blind man.  She is 100% correct.  Needless to say, I am happy to be out of the blind category. 
  
While I am on the subject of how other people view me now, let's move onto how men deal with me.
  

  
Because I am a very married woman who until the end of last year weighted only 1.4 lbs less than this cute Vespa, I have gone through the last few years never being hit on.  It never bothered me- again, married- but now I really don't know how to deal with being hit on. 
  
I was walking home from lunch with a girlfriend on Monday, and I have to say I looked pretty cute.  I was wearing nice jeans, high shoes, makeup, a fur-trimmed cape, and a nice bag.  It was a good ensemble.  Well, I am walking along in my kind of oblivious but still taking everything in Nora way, and this guy actually stops me.  You know the type, the 'I know I have met you before' guy.  And I am trying politely to tell him that, in fact, he has not met me, but he just won't hear of it.  So I do the smart married woman trick- I scratch my forehead with my left hand so he can clearly see my wedding band and engagement ring.  Nope, that didn't help either.  Finally the guy asked if I had a husband (and yes, for the record I did try to walk away) and I said that I did.  That was it, he got the picture and went on his way.  But wow, it was funny that I really didn't know how to deal with this guy.  Something similar happened the last time I was in the States.  I took the ferry from my mom's house into the city in the evening, and I was the only person on the boat other than the crew.  I wound up sitting with the guys to watch Monday Night Football.  I am friendly, and apparently this is issue #1.  Nora should just read here Kindle and keep to herself.  I sat next to one guy, and we talked about his tattoos.  I know that tattoos are pretty popular in Blogland, but they just don't do it for me.  I've never had one, never scheduled an appointment to get one or even flipped through magazines to pick out the perfect tattoo for me.  So I very innocently mentioned that I am not a tattoo person and that I don't do needles (minus fills, of course).  His response was to look me up and down and say, 'So, you are afraid of things that stick you'!!!  I almost had to lift my jaw up from my chest manually.  I was completely shocked.  Mom said (yes, mom is getting a lot of air time today) that I am going to have to start using my radar again to avoid the creeps and some of these odd situations.  Hey, getting hit on can be flattering, but I need to re-learn how to actually act when it happens.