November 2 ❤️
I thought I was going to die this afternoon, before the game. Shonda and Rod had come to get me and I couldn’t find my uniform!! ? There I was, without a stitch on, just out of the shower, scrambling around the living room trying to find it. I was even in such a hurry I stubbed my little toe (ouch!) on the leg of that old couch. (I know we can’t afford a new one right now, but the stuffing is really starting to come out of that last cushion, and duct tape just doesn’t do the job.) Then I heard Shonda’s marching boots out on the porch — and Rod’s! — and she called to me, her dad waiting outside with the car . . .
I supposed I could put the uniform on in the bathroom but there’s not enough room in there to fit it right, and also I like to dry out in the open air before it goes on. (I make sure the curtains are drawn first ha ha.) Finally as Shonda called out the second time I found the bottom, in between the cushions. I had to bend w – a – y down to reach it. The circlets were down in there too. This wasn’t the first time — the bottom flies away with the slightest whiff of air, and I know the circlets have to be lightweight, and they fly all over too. I quickly attached the circlets and pulled the strings up into my “cracks” and it turned out to be o.k. Shonda must have known I had been in a hurry because she pointed out that the circlet on my left “nip” was crooked — it was pretty embarrassing. She fixed it though it hurt a little.
So off we went. We won the game against Olneyville, 36 – 8. ✌? LaShawn was his usual great self, scoring three times. Maury’s wrist is still mending but Jermaine is turning out to be a great sub QB. As for us Tunemasters, we didn’t do too good a job on “Mission Impossible” (that’s a hard tune) but sounded good on everything else. It was a little chilly and drizzly but not too bad. Good thing for that poncho when I’m in the stands! If I turn it the right way I can put part of it under my butt, those metal benches are f – r – e – e – z – i – n – g!
It was my first game in bare feet. ? Ms. Kleinfelter met with me on Thursday and said the dressy flip-flops were being discontinued. She let me have them. I don’t know what I could wear them with — they seem “too bare” for me. (Like I’m too modest — at the Student Council dance last week Shonda was the latest to laugh at me for my long sleeve dress — while she was wearing something practically backless!! I’m surprised they let her in the door!) I’d probably give them to another girl but they’re a little worn.
Doing the halftime show with my feet slopping around in the cold mud took some getting used to. If the mud is gluey it could wreck the timing on my throws. Ms. Kleinfelter said there are drill teams in Texas that perform in bare feet; she showed me pictures. So I’m not alone. I’m glad I decided against going in Uggs (actually they’re fake Uggs — don’t tell anyone!) because what about putting my muddy feet in them afterwards?? So I stayed barefoot all day. It looked a little gross on the way home, dried mud between my toes, but no one seemed to mind and then they got a good soak in the tub (along with the rest of me).
November 4 ❤️
Shonda and Debra gave me a present today — a locket I can keep my uniform in! It’s just big enough to hold it, about the size of a quarter dollar. I can wear it around my neck, next to my crucifix, or hang it onto the lamp next to the couch. That way I won’t keep losing it, like on Saturday. I owe them. I love this school, how everyone is so nice to me.
I hardly see Dad any more, since he went on night shift patrol. He chased down a burglar last night but he and Officer Jensen caught him. Dad has been on the force 17 years and never had to fire his gun — something to be proud of.??❤️
Stavros wants me to work another shift at the diner, on Wednesdays. I think I can swing it. It gives me only 6 hours of sleep but I can do that, if it’s not every day. The secret is not to eat too much. Last week I had a cheese sandwich on my break and it wiped me out the rest of the night. Just an apple is better.
Stavros must think I’m doing a good job. He also mentioned a Saturday morning shift. (Can I do that? No time to change for the game! Maybe I can wear my majorette uniform under the waitress outfit. It depends on whether the circlets will show — maybe I’ll experiment.) Some of the girls think he’s mean but I keep telling them, as long as you look “busy” he’ll leave you alone. Business is doing good, esp. since he started that “bottomless coffee” special. He’s thinking of another Sunday morning shift, but I can’t do that because I’ll be at Mass.
November 6 ❤️
I’m worried about the Thanksgiving Day parade. The details were announced today. The new route is almost three miles! They had to make it twisty and bendy to keep it from going out of state. Can I do it without shoes? I know Sarge always checks the route beforehand, so I’m not worried about stepping on rusty nails or anything (though I’ve been using the sandpaper in my sneakers and I’m really toughened up now — there’s a dance style in Peru where the girls are always barefoot and they have some good tips online on how to get “in condition”) — I’m worried about my feet being on the cold ground all that time. At a game it’s not so bad, because I can tuck my feet into the poncho on break, but on a long parade . . . ? We’ll be marching for two hours, probably. I wonder what the forecast will be.
I’ve been doing research. I found online a rumor about the big Thanksgiving Day parade in New York City — a few years ago a h.s. band from Hawaii was going to march, with their majorette in a grass skirt with a coconut bra — and the forecast was for snow!! ❄❄❄ I’m trying to google more about that.
It’s true that people can get used to anything, with a lot of practice. My googling also showed that the girls who followed that old band the Beatles would sleep outside their office, hoping to see them come and go. They got so used to sleeping in the cold that one of the girls said she woke up with snow all over her!! Of course, she was all bundled up.
I’ve been helping Sean with his math again. He wants to try so hard, but he can’t understand fractions. I had a hard time with them too, when I was in fourth grade. I don’t think his teacher is very nice. Mom says they’re thinking of putting him in a “special class” — I hope that doesn’t happen!! He might never get out of it!!
P.S. I found out that the bit about the majorette from Hawaii didn’t really happen. It was part of a fictional story. The search led me to some creepy web sites. I couldn’t “x” out those windows fast enough!! There are a lot of creepy guys writing stories about majorettes. I hope I don’t ever meet one. (A creepy guy, I mean!)
November 7 ❤️
I hung out with Rodney Sikes again today, second half of lunch period. He wrote some music for trombone and clarinet (weird combo, no?) that we’ve been playing. ♫ He doesn’t know too much about clarinet writing (or treble clef) but he’s a quick learner. I held the paper while he was erasing something, and his black hand next to my white hand . . . I don’t know, I find that sight so inspiring. ☮ I don’t believe Uncle Brian and people like that, who say black people coming in are ruining our neighborhood. What about the Sanborns? They moved into the Capiletti’s old house across the street, fixed it up, and now their little kids are running around in the yard. They’re cute kids and seem nice.
November 9 ❤️
Another home game, against Hopkinton, and boy it was COLD. ? It even looked from the sky like it was going to snow! I was freezing every minute, shaking and shivering by the time we came in from halftime. When I was in the poncho Mr. Simonetti brought me some hot chocolate which was nice! Up in the stands Shonda showed me the circlets were crooked, which was strange because they were perfectly even when I left the house. The cold air making my nips stiff probably did it. I wonder if I should get them stiff before I put the circlets on? Maybe ice cubes would do it?
After halftime Marie (Hopkinton’s majorette) stopped by to see me. We met at band camp back in August. She came with the team. She wasn’t in her uniform, of course; their band doesn’t travel. She loves to see me in mine. She showed me the photo we took together, hard to see us in that bright sun, during that twirling workout. It seems like so long ago now. Her uniform seems like a lot to get around in — a small “shako” hat (must be hard to keep on), a bikini top (constricting), “boy” shorts (ditto), and boots (heavy, clunky, ugh!). Majorettes have a special bond. “We are used to being half-naked and freezing!” she said. “Or in your case, it’s been calculated, 99.97 percent naked!” Of course I don’t think of it that way.
November 12 ❤️
Today Sarge called me in during lunch (sorry, Rod!) to go over the Thanksgiving route. We start early this year, at 10 a.m., so everyone can get home to eat with their families. Sarge wanted to show me how to lead the band around that corner on Chalkstone, near the statue. It messed us up last year. He said the fault was his, not Grenicia’s. I had only a vague idea that something was happening, because I was back with the clarinets then. But he counted out the steps I was to take, and the angle of the turn. We’ll go out and inspect the corner the day before, with Jaycee who now is the lead trombone (now that Harney is in trouble with the law again). This is one reason I love being the majorette. I miss playing in the clarinet section, in the full-coverage uniform (and being able to wear thermals when it’s really Arctic!!), but Sarge treats me as his “chief of staff”. He never leads the band; he just walks next to us in his business suit. So in fact it’s me leading and it’s a big responsibility.
I sat next to Nilda at lunch again today. I would hate to have such big boobs. She can’t really hide them no matter what she wears. Boys are so immature sometimes. Rod’s one of the nice ones, and Jaycee (a little), though it seems they can’t help sneaking a look every two seconds.
Speaking of Grenicia, she visited after school today. She’s going to “Tufts University” in Boston and is with the ROTC. She came in her uniform — very neat. (Sarge said once that he had the right to wear his old Army uniform on parades, but he feels funny doing that with him no longer on active duty.)
I like uniforms! Why is that? Maybe it’s that picture of me next to the couch, from first grade at St. Patrick’s. That cute little plaid pinafore. I loved that! (I still have it, in our closet.) Too bad we couldn’t afford for me to stay there. They didn’t have gym or music or anything, but I really liked the nuns, especially Sister Jane. Anyway, I’m proud to wear my majorette uniform. Ms. Kleinfelter has put a lot of thought into it, and it’s ideal for its purpose.
November 14 ❤️
Ms. Kleinfelter called me in today. It turns out she’s just like me, concerned about the long T-Day route. She said, “I’ve developed an idea that might keep you warm!” I thought, “How would that be possible? I can’t throw the baton in a poncho!”
She asked me how the new circlets were working out. I said GREAT — they fasten by a kind of screw that tightens them around my nips. In the process they stretch my nips out a bit but that’s o.k. Those old clip ones were horrid. Then she handed me a couple of new ones. They looked just like the old ones, but a little heavier. She told me to try them on. I took off my sweater, my blouse and my bra, though I kept on my crucifix. When I put the new ones on (the same screw thingy) she showed me a remote control. It would cause the circlets to “vibrate” which would keep me warm. HOW, seemed like a mystery. Obviously there’s no place for me to put the remote so it would be carried by one of the trombones, in the pocket of his jacket.
She turned it on and — EEEEE!! It felt like bees were stinging my nips! ??? I grabbed my boobs and gritted my teeth. There’s a dial on the remote that she turned down, but even at the low setting, it was a pins and needles kind of feeling. I admit I did feel warmer. My face got hot, and then the rest of me, then there was a smell like when I’m having my period. I was pretty embarrassed. She turned the beastly things off and I caught my breath.
She said she had to work on the remote but asked me to keep the circlets on the rest of the day to see if they would stay on straight. So I went through classes wearing “half” my uniform — my circlets above, and my regular jeans and sneakers. I got some stares — Maury said I looked like I had decided to go “topless”. (Yeah, right!) At the end of school I went back to get my bra etc. The new circlets are o.k. but I don’t think the “vibrations” thing is a good idea.
November 15 ❤️
I got an “A” in my art class today, the sketch we made of the factory across the street. I got all the perspective correct, Mr. Landers said. He keeps telling me that we left-handers tend to be creative. That’s a compliment, but I don’t know if I’m that creative. There’s no question he’s very good though. His paintings are on the walls and they’re gorgeous, mountains and lakes. He says they’re the result of a visit to Italy and I should go there someday. Odd — here I am, never having been out of New England! (Except that one time we went to Albany.)
November 16 ❤️
An away game today (Olneyville) and after last week’s frigidness (is that a word?) Sarge asked everyone to wear thermals. Part of my job is to check everyone else’s uniform before we enter the gate. I don’t know anything about thermals, of course — I’m the majorette, after all — but the rest of the band wears so much stuff that sometimes they can’t feel when something’s on straight or not. This time it was a mess — some of the kids have outgrown the thermals from last year and they will have to get new ones. Sleeves (thermal sleeves that is) were poking out of everyone’s jackets. It took me fifteen minutes to check everyone, by which time I was shivering and I couldn’t feel my feet on the concrete. At the end I could barely control my hands to tug and straighten sleeves. I say Hail Marys at times like that and they help me get warm, or at least “think” warm. Of course my blood got moving when we made our entrance. “Hold that Tiger” and “Washington Post” and everyone cheered. The Tunemasters are the best marching band in the state, that’s for sure.
We lost, 32 – 30! Oh well, it’s only the first time this year. Maury’s back in action but out of practice. One incomplete bounced off Horace’s helmet and almost hit me as we were in position offside. I twisted out of the way just before it hit my boob. (That would have been a major “ouch”!!)
No one’s called me “Frigid Brigid” in a long time now — good!
Last night I had a dream that I was climbing a steep cliff — naked! I’ve had these dreams lately . . . I was hanging above a deep gorge or something, and grabbing onto these little outcrops with my hands and feet, knowing if just one of them turned out to be loose, I’d fall to my death. It was a jungle, and sounds of insects and animals and elephants. I think it’s because I saw “Temple of Doom” on TV last week. . . that actress was really pretty. Anyway, in my dream it was very hot and humid. Sweat was dripping off me. I woke up and I saw that I had left the heater on! Dad keeps telling me to turn it off after I tuck in Jessy, it’s a fire hazard. But sometimes I’m just too tired to remember. So I turned the heater off and I was still hot, too hot to sleep, so I took off my outer pajamas and slept in my bra and panties.
November 18 ❤️
Today was a nice day and after school I did some practicing in the back yard. Mr. Firgus, who lives behind us, was doing some digging in his garden and complimented me on my double flip throw. It’s one of the things I couldn’t do with the flip-flops, because I have to hit the baton from beneath with my sole. I can do it with either foot now. “I don’t know how you can throw that thing so high with all those telephone pole wires criss-crossing up there!” Mr. Firgus sometimes watches me from his window. It’s good to get compliments! Sometimes I think I’m a compliments hog.
BTW, that wire is still hanging down, one of about a dozen that stretch from the Hendersons’ across to the Santiagos’. The phone company keeps telling Dad that they’ll send someone but they never do. It’s not low enough for anyone to touch but it might get lower someday.
The new bottom on my uniform is narrower than the old one; the “strip” (that’s the new name for it) is about half an inch across, and sometimes I think my “little thing” slips out when I’m doing a high kick. At least I feel cold air on it; I’m not really sure. But if I cut a little slice of double-stick duct tape (there’s a roll of it in the basement) and put it along the inside, so that it sticks to my “little thing”, it stops that from happening. Should I tell Ms. Kleinfelter this? I’m not supposed to be making changes to the uniform. It was a strange feeling, at first, feeling my “little thing” being tugged this way and that with each kick, but I got used to it. It makes me feel warmer somehow. ?
November 19 ❤️
Nilda was crying today. She was trying to hide it, in the stairs between classes, but Shonda and I saw her. George had been a real jerk at lunch, making jokes about her boobs. Shonda says she should think up insults to throw back at him, and at the other boys. ? I’m not sure. I think she should go to Ms. McIntyre. She’s the Principal but I suppose she’s now in charge of discipline now that Mr. Gill has left. Nilda is a shy girl and we should think of some kind of plan.
Later Ms. Kleinfelter called me in. She said she changed her mind about the vibrations idea. I’m glad! She also said she thinks the new bottom might slip, or get uneven. I swear she must have some kind of special power — how did she know? (I haven’t told her about the duct tape.) Anyway, her new idea is to have the other band members check my uniform, just like I check theirs. She brought out a little magnifying class. She will give one out to each of my old clarinet buddies (all girls, of course) so before we go out I can spread my legs and they can look close to see if it’s on even. Also I can spread my butt cheeks, to make sure the string is right in the middle. Obviously I can’t look down there myself. Might be helpful with my toenails too. The girls will keep the magnifying glasses in their jackets; they’ll all have one so that we don’t worry if one is absent. This is a good idea.
Tonight Sean had another tough math assignment — I think his teacher gives out too much homework. Also I had to help out Chrissy with her second grade class project (she’s drawing houses and I’m now the expert on perspective ?). Johnny has his project on “shapes” (I think every kindergartner has to do that ?? ?). All the time Jessy was bugging us. Mom wanted to help, or at least keep Jessy out of our hair, but she had to take it easy upstairs. It’s hard for her to come downstairs these days. Her new physical therapist is nice though. It was hard to understand her at first (I think she’s from Haiti).
November 20 ❤️
Thinking about T-Day, I decided to get into my uniform in the bedroom. I closed the door (Chrissy and Jessy were downstairs, so it was just me) and looked at myself in the mirror.
There’s actually a lot to my uniform. Besides the circlets and the bottom, there’s (“there are”?) the painted fingernails, and the painted toenails. Also I think my shoulders, and my midriff, and my legs, they’re part of the general “presentation”. Turning around, my “gluteal” muscles. I have to keep in shape. I’m glad I signed up for that “body conditioning” gym class. Rod did too. Shonda thinks she’s already IN shape; I suppose she’s right.
Dad might be getting a promotion to Sergeant. At least he hears rumors. Now there will be two “Sarges” in my life! The important thing is the raise he’ll get.
November 21 ❤️
Dad FINALLY got a couple of days off and we visited Uncle Patrick and Aunt Meg out in Chepachet. It’s a lot of countryside there, so I tried my experiment, walking out on a road in the cold (and it was plenty cold) in my bare feet. Otherwise I was all bundled up! I must have gotten some stares from people driving past. It was a new asphalt road, out of town, and I went what I thought was a mile and then came back. It started snowing ❄❄❄, so soon I was making footprints in the snow. By the time I got back my feet were a little numb, but o.k. Toughening my soles certainly helped. But afterward they were black! It took 15 minutes of scrubbing in the tub to get all that gunk off. But it looks like I can survive the T-Day parade in my “revised” uniform.
November 22 ❤️
Bad! Mom was short of breath last night and Dad had to take her to the hospital. Fortunately after a few hours of watching her they said she was o.k. Just has to take some new pills. Ever since she gave birth to Jessy she’s had one heart problem after another. She promises she will lose weight now. No more Oreos!! Dad called Father Loughlin to say a prayer for her at Mass next Sunday. ✝❤️❤️
November 24 ❤️
Had another “Brigid Party” today, ahead of the big parade. They’re every three weeks or so, Shonda’s idea. I wish they wouldn’t call them that but I suppose that’s the right name. We invited Luz this time. She’s new to this country, from El Salvador. I heard her family narrowly escaped some violent horror down there. Everyone knows they’re undocumented (that’s the word, right? I hate saying “illegal”), and if they were in Texas they’d be in trouble, but here in good old R.I. they’re safe from ICE. Luz is very quiet but once you get to know her she’s very sweet. She wears a crucifix too and says Hail Marys and Our Fathers at lunch, in Spanish. ✞✞
We can’t keep the kids away in my house, so the “parties” are at Millie’s. She has a nice big living room. It was cold, because due to the chemicals, Millie always has to keep a window open. Brrr!!! My nips were stiff all afternoon. Not that the girls cared; they were in their sweats and socks and all bundled up. I’m used to that “situation”.
They have the routine down to a science by now. Millie sets the two chairs about three feet apart, and when I come out of the shower and dry myself with a towel, I get up on them, one foot on each, my legs wide spread. She puts a lamp on the floor so they can see me better. Then she and Shonda go to work. Debra was there, and Susie, at first just to watch, point out places M & S missed, and keep everyone supplied with soda and cookies. Luz kept shielding her eyes at first, and making exclamations in Spanish, but she got more comfortable after the first few minutes. (It’s girls only of course! ⚢ ) I keep my arms up and out, so they can get my armpits.
One girl keeps my “lower parts” spread apart while the other puts the shaving cream on. Darn that cream stings!!! It’s mentholated! My “lower hair” has to be shaved narrower now with the smaller strip. Shonda wants to shave it off all the way, but I always say no; Ms. Kleinfelter said having hair underneath “stabilizes” the bottom. It should be shaved a sixteenth of an inch in from the edge, on each side. Another reason the magnifying glasses come in handy!
It’s so cool to have such good friends who can help me with this. I don’t think I could do it all myself, at least not so well. The only embarrassing thing is Shonda raving about how “perfect” my body is. Far from it! My waist is too narrow, my boobs too big for my waist, my butt is too small. I think Shonda’s body is better, judging from what she looked like in that almost-backless dress. At least I’m glad my body isn’t a curse like with Nilda. (Nilda has always been invited and maybe she’ll show up someday; we think she would like seeing someone else’s body be the center of attention, instead of hers.)
It takes about fifteen minutes to get my crotch done. It’s very exacting work. Then Erin stopped by to do my armpits — that’s her specialty. When she was done, I turned around and leaned my arms forward onto the end table so that Shonda could spread my butt cheeks while Debra got the few hairs next to my [butthole]. Then I got down, sat on the carpet (my arms and legs are tired by then) and put my feet forward so Erin and Susie could do my toenails. They always fight over on whether to do the “stars” or the “stripes” (Ms. Kleinfelter says either design is acceptable) but they have to do one or the other because both feet have to be the same! Then they do my fingernails. I feel like I’m a Queen being attended to by servants. Queen Brigid Siobhan O’Dierna.☘??
We sat around talking and gossiping, and then watched TV, with them on the couch, and me in front of them on the carpet, still naked, spread out in an “X”, my head propped up so I can see. In this position I can be sure everything will dry. (It’s o.k. for the Queen to be naked around her “servants” ha ha.) Then I get the locket out of my jacket and put my uniform on to make sure everything looks good. As always, they did a perfect job!
November 25 ❤️
Today Ms. Kleinfelter called me in again; this time there was a man with her, Mr. Gribb. (Or maybe Grib.) She said next week the uniform will be revised to remove the strings from the bottom. How will it stay on, you say? By tying the top of the little “strip” to my “little thing”! And the other end is a little ball that goes into my [butthole]. It sounds dirty, but Mr. Grib said I would be given what’s called an “enema” and cleaned out before it’s put in, and I’ll get used to it. First they want to examine me inside so that my “inner tissues” can handle the intrusion. I gulped but I’m “game”. It’s like diving into the pool in swim class when you know the water’s freezing — it’s all part of school spirit!
November 26 ❤️
With all the buildup I was thinking this day would never come. The T-Day parade, with our band out in front, marching through North Prov, Cumberland Hill, and Woonsocket. Halfway through it started snowing (like the forecast said ❄❄❄) but I was fine. Or maybe, freezing, but fine. I was shivering and goose-pimpled but that’s the life of a majorette. ??? My nips were as stiff as they ever have been but I think the circlets stayed straight. I didn’t take too many chances with throws, maybe twenty feet at most, and I caught them all in tempo. My boobs have grown a bit (nowhere near Nilda territory, thank goodness!) but I’ve made adjustments. The trick is to lead with one boob and then let the other boob do about half a bounce before turning. Then I spread the toes on the trailing foot and pivot on the ball of the foot. That way I stay in tempo with the throw. I almost fell once, just after that Chalkstone corner, when I slipped on black ice, that must have formed overnight. I hadn’t thought of the problem of bare feet on ice — I suppose I should have. Having tough soles doesn’t help with that. For a while my feet were numb ? but by the time the parade ended I had gotten some feeling back.
On the route, aside from Mom and Dad and the kids of course (Mom was doing good today, and even could stand without her cane), I saw Uncle Sean and Aunt Meg, their kids, Mr. Firgus, the Sanborns with their boys, most of my teachers, etc., etc. There were more TV trucks this year. Mayor Pignatelli gave a speech at the reviewing stand that we had to stand still for but it wasn’t too long. I was shivering but I think I managed to keep my baton still as I held it against my side. The important thing is to press it in against my boob so that it’s “stabilized”.
Someone told me once that parades are a thing of the past, that people get together online more and more, instead of congregating outside. That would be a shame. It’s certainly not true around here!
Before we started there was a minor crisis. I had my coat and Uggs on over my uniform, and when we got to the band room and I took the Uggs off I saw that the paint on two of my toenails (the right middle toe, and the left big toe) had chipped. I think the problem was I hadn’t cut them short enough. Debra was ready with her kit! I pulled up a chair and put my ten toes up on a desk while she got to work. A man from the newspapers was there and he took a photo which we smiled for.
There was a bigger crisis later, when Sid’s car got a flat tire on the way to dropping everyone off. It was on Washington Street and he quickly turned onto a side road to get out of traffic. We all got out, me and Erin and Rod and Debra. Sid didn’t know how to fix it. In fact no one did, except me — Dad taught me how and made me change tires a couple of times, for practice. I couldn’t do it in Uggs, though, or in that bulky coat. So I took them off and did it in just my uniform! I was directing everyone like I do at a parade, telling Sid to open the trunk, Erin to call everyone’s parents, Rod to find a rock to chock the opposite wheel. Calling a repair truck would just waste time — we all had to be home for our T-giving dinners, and it would be expensive — so there I was, the majorette, jumping up and down on that lug wrench with my tough foot (those nuts were on TIGHT!), jacking up the car, sitting on the spare tire as I took off the wheel, etc. Fortunately the spare wasn’t flat too. When I stood up at the end I was smudged all over — but fortunately not on my uniform!! My left boob was greasy all over EXCEPT around the nip. That was a huge relief. My butt was covered in grime (from when I was sitting on the spare) and of course my feet were a mess, and my left hand. I didn’t want to muck up the inside of my coat or the Uggs so I didn’t put them back on. Also I didn’t want to mess up the seat of Sid’s car with my grimy butt, and it was just another four blocks for me, so I told them to drive off as I walked home in my uniform, carrying the coat and the Uggs, stepping into puddles of icy water, my toes gripping the crusty dirty snow, by then I didn’t care ha ha! I smiled and waved as a couple of people who saw me march honked at me — they probably wondered how I got so dirty!
Mom was “up” enough to cook the turkey last night and it smelled so good! ? Sean and Chrissy and Johnny were helping set the table (and Jessy was “helping” too, but staying out of the way). Dad was in the living room “watching” football, with his eyes closed. It was so good to be in our warm little house! I went into the tub, scrubbed all the grease off (ouch, in places!), and took my usual post-parade bubble bath (ahhh!!), before getting into clothes and going to the table where we said “grace”. We have a lot to be thankful for! ☘??❤️❤️
[end]
That was nice 😀 Giving some insight into how she felt during the moments of the story is a fun concept. :3
I mirror that sentiment. It’s nice to read Brigid’s thoughts. How she feels about being a majorette, her thoughts on her uniform, but also family matters. Adds to her feeling as a real person. Thank you.
I know Tami’s reason for being naked. What is Brigid’s?
Brigid’s not naked!! She’d probably slap you if you said that. She is very proud of her uniform!
Of course.
But given that the world she inhabits has our morals, what makes her and everyone else in it go along with a uniform that covers .03% of her body?
I think it’s better left unexplained, like with N’Stange. The majorette marches in a “micro uniform” no matter what the weather, and no one gives it a second thought.
In “Brigid’s New Uniform” I have a passage where it’s heavily implied that some parents call Brigid “naked”, which reduces her to tears. My view today is that it was a mistake to put that in.
(BTW, I’ve never been satisfied with the word “uniform” — it denotes people wearing the same thing, whereas Brigid is the only majorette. But “costume” and “outfit” aren’t apt, either.)
That’s not the only meaning of uniform. It primarily means something that doesn’t change or vary, which an outfit that one must always wear when performing a specific job or to designate a specific position within a group certainly qualifies as. Thus Brigid can have a uniform that is currently completely unique to her, as long as it is a requirement that she (or anyone else who becomes a majorette for the school) must wear the currently designated outfit in order to perform her duties.
As to Brigid’s and the general public’s towards her outfit… I always thought that it was basically a form of brainwashing. That is to say that everyone has been effectively convinced that there is nothing wrong with what she is wearing simply because they’re simply unable to believe that a school would actually require her to perform in a way that was socially unacceptable and have therefore rewired their way of thinking to make a specific exclusion. It’s the same thing as a girl in Australia or Europe not thinking there anything odd about wearing only a bikini bottom at the beach, or American girls being embarrassed about being seen in their underwear even though modern swimsuits show far more. I’ve been intermittently releasing a story over on DeviantArt that basically follows the same premise with a Professor mentally re-conditioning her gullible Teaching Assistant to accept a state of permanent nudity, etc.
Thanks; you are reading the situation correctly. Also thank you for the comment on the word “uniform” — I feel better about it now.
That sounds like an interesting story Cybersox. I should check it out. As to Brigid… I wouldn’t mind a pre-story. Something that – slowly – get’s her to realistically agree to smaller and smaller uniforms.
Got it. I was just under the impression that I had missed the backstory chapter somewhere.
One of my favourite Brigid stories. So nice to get a peek at her thoughts. I only wish there were more stories with this wonderful girl.