Gallery Sitting

Today was a day that I spent Gallery sitting for Arts Westchester. I was told in advance to bring a book, as not that many people would be visiting the gallery on a weekday.  So I was prepared for a boring day, which it was for the first hour or so.  And then, an occasional person or two visited the center, giving me a chance to talk with people and keep myself busy.

But first....

I had set my alarms to get me up early, and they worked their magic as desired.  However, not having enough sleep the night before, it took me a while to get moving.  After doing my daily routine, I was able to get out the door by 11 am - just enough time for me to make it to the gallery by noon.  

Just as the clock struck 12 (to use an old expression), the heavy metal outside doors to the gallery started opening.  But the lady in charge had a hard time opening the doors, as they were rubbing against the bottom of the door frame.  (Both WD-40 on the hinges and wax on the door frame might help, and I suggested this to the person in charge of the gallery.)  The lady (who I will leave unnamed) showed me around, and I started my shift at the gallery.

During the day, several people came in to visit the gallery, and one of them bought a coupe of scarfs. Another said that she wants to bring her small meetup group there soon. But this was not all.  A woman from one of my meetup groups came by to do her volunteer shift a couple of floors above me, and we chatted for a few minutes.  It seemed like "old home week" at times, as I also met another person who was part of the Arts Westchester volunteer program.

Finally, it was time to close things out for the day.  Women had responded to me as if I were a cisgender woman, and that's the way I liked it.  The more I get practice interacting with cisgender woman as a woman, the less I'll worry about my remaining masculine traits being a problem for me.
 

Secret Pen Pals

 

 

One of my meetup groups (Ambles and Adventures) has sponsored a "Secret Pen Pal" letter exchange twice this fall. And I have enjoyed participating in it.  It's a nice thing to do, as it allowed me to write to someone I don't know, and say something from my heart without feeling that I will be looked at strangely.  No, I'm not saying anything I wouldn't want known to the world. Instead, I'm opening up a part of myself that doesn't always get the chance to come out.

The first time around, I had two pen pals.  One was the woman I was assigned as my secret pal. The other was the hostess of the group, someone who couldn't have the secret pal because she knew everyone's partnerships.  The second time around, I had one woman, and I had fun writing to her as well.

I'm looking forward to the next round of letters/cards. I get to express myself as Marian, and enjoy doing so.

Listen, I'd like to know a secret.

 

Yesterday, I was presented with a mystery that I haven't yet solved.  Someone left a box containing this plate in front of my door.  But I have absolutely no clue as to who dropped this plate at my door. 

Could this plate have been given to me by my secret pen pal from my "Ambles" group? If so, why didn't she/he have identified herself/himself as "Your Secret Pen Pal" and left me a card telling me that this is a gift to me?  (I've mentioned my love for trains in the past, and this gift could have come from a member of our "Secret Pen Pal" group.) As much as this is a possibility, it breaks the rules of our group.  We are not supposed to be giving each other a gift of value - even though these collectors plates have little resale value.  So, I've ruled out my secret pen pal for now.

The next person I thought of is someone who I doubt would give me the time of day, much less a "collector's place."  My most recent ex-girlfriend is emptying out a house in preparation to move into smaller living quarters.  We have not been in contact since summer, and I see no reason why she'd bother to risk seeing me to drop this off.  In addition, without a note to say who gifted me this plate, this couldn't be a peace offering which would tell me that she'd like to bury the hatchet.  (Last we were in contact, I'm sure that she'd prefer to bury the hatchet in my back. So assuming that this gift was from her doesn't make sense.)

The last person that I thought might have dropped this plate off is my former cruise partner.  She has even less interest in renewing a friendship, nor would she have collected plates with a railroading theme.  Given that we likely would have strangled each other if we were in the same place again, I think that she is also someone who should be ruled out for having put this plate in front of my door.

If the person who gave me this gift reads this blog, I want to say thank you.  But I wish you would let me know who you are, just to know whether you want to attempt to be friends again.