I know just how ludicrous I must have looked this afternoon. I have my doubts that more than two of the people who saw me understood the discrepancy, but let me just say that I'm a product of my culture and a child of my generation. Let us hope that I never have my reality check bounce for insufficient funds.

So there I was, dressed in the long green skirt and white shirt, very Plain (for those of you familiar with the term) and white net covering. Hair properly pinned underneath the covering. Sensible shoes. Driving through town in a little red car with the radio tuned to some modern rock station. I must have made certain of my foremothers turn in their graves. If anyone hears about seismic activity in the eastern part of Pennsylvania, I'm truly sorry for this.

To celebrate my newfound culture I'm going to spend the rest of the afternoon knitting peacefully in front of the tv. Maybe I'll be watching Sex and the City. Maybe I won't. Maybe I'll read my devotions instead. Who knows? Only the cat who sits on the windowsill of the apartment across from me, whose discretion can be counted on. And that's all I'm going to say on the matter.