Holding the filled tablespoon face high before me, I walked carefully through their living room and into Martha Jane's bedroom. She sat up in bed, a p...nk wool blanket up to her waist, the place littered with used kleenex and her school books. Her eyes and nose were swollen and red. In one hand she held a thoroughly used tissue.I grinned maniacally at the door and chanted, "Yumyum!"She winced. "Don't yumyum me, you--Is it already time for that awful stuff again?" Yumyum!"She called into the. Then itwouldn't be "our" personal and private intimacy with each other but"the" way I related to the world, or one of the ways. Then Ireally would be more her girlfriend than her husband. I knew I'dsoon take on a feminine social identity whether I wanted one ornot. and then I really would begin to think of myself as feminine.I dressed to the nines anyhow. I'd gone out that day to buy her areally stunning cocktail dress for her birthday, and found one thatwas absolutely scrumptious, elongated. More

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