The Usual Suspects

It’s me and Boobers again this weekend. It's almost become a routine.

Anyway, this past Friday I stopped by the usual restaurant to pick up dinner for me and my electrologist. We usually eat before getting to work on pulling the weeds, although, I guess she’s the one who, by definition, does all the work. OK, so there’s usually this male bartender that takes care of my call-in order. I’ll have to say he’s pretty decent looking....for a guy, and he always remembers my name. :) This time, however, he wasn’t there. I was disappointed. I guess I like seeing him there, and being treated very nice....in that he knows my name and takes care of me. Don’t we all live for a little bit of routine and consistency in our lives? We live for a balance between the multitudinous and the monotonous....don’t we? Actually, there was this cute female bartender working there instead of him, so it wasn’t a total loss.

This past Thursday, I found myself yet again thinking about FFS. I then realized I would be, in a way, saying goodbye to the boy face. It also felt like I was saying goodbye to “him.” It’s not like “he” is a different persona, but he’s kind of a shell of who I am....the male identity I used to get me by in society. He’s sort of an older brother to a degree. I was saying goodbye to a dear friend and I started to cry...thinking how he’d no longer be there to help me get by. The only way I can really relate it is to think about the movie Return of the Jedi. Remember how at the end when Luke kicks Darth’s butt all over the countryside, but Darth is dying after saving his son from the Emperor? Remember sitting there as you saw Luke's father dying after taking off the mask. You put a face to the evil name of Darth Vadar and realized he was human just like everyone else. You felt sorry for him...even though he was the main evil character for the previous 2.9 movies. I cried for my “brother” even though he’s the “bad guy.”

Anyway, Courtney called to console me since I’d IM’d her what I was thinking. I know it’s all whacked, but I wonder if this is what others are going through as they see me transitioning from the boy to the new girl. Yes, we can all be afraid of what the future holds simply because the future is untold. It’s something we can’t see, and sometimes it can scare us when it ventures too far from what we are expecting. Anyway, the next day I was just the opposite as I looked in the mirror and said, “Yep, all of this boy stuff in the face has to go.”