I’ve come to notice that making lists of stuff is a pretty popular thing to do. I’ve put a couple on here so far, and the feedback is like ten times better than average, even though I’m really saying the same shit I normally do, except numerated. I’d be lying if I didn’t say I got a tiny bit psyched when my stats jump for a day or two, and thus encouraged, I hastily thought up some more crap to sling out there in digestible bulleted format. With no further ado, aside from the remainder of this sentence, unwieldy and suspected run on in its complexity, let talk about a five things missed and five things grateful for in transition.
1. Miss: Out of Bed and Out the Door in 5 Minutes: Back in my Air Force days we liked to ride a perpetually late pretty boy for always having one foot out the door and one still in the makeup bag. Yeah, it wasn’t that clever of a crowd. I have to admit though, even though I never exactly felt like myself, it sure was nice to jump out of bed and run to the store with absolutely no preparation at all. Well, except shoes and such, but you understand. Technically yes, I can still do this, but it means being mistaken as being intentionally masculine, which is as comfortable as showing up there in footie pajamas. We can, but sure don’t want to.
2. Don’t Miss: Shaving the Face: OK, fine, I’m still some time away from being done with this completely, but after months of being blasted in the face with lasers, there is only a little left to work on. Before that, it was morning agony scraping a slightly dulled steel blade across my increasingly sensitive skin and still needing 2 pounds of military grade super foundation to cover the shadow. Ones sense of femininity is never strengthened by a soft rub against your own cheek and getting stubble burn. Ugh. When it’s all gone for good, my Gillette Fusion will be destroyed with biblical vengeance. A plague of locusts sounds about right.
3. Miss: Looking Like Shit: Yes, society has double standards. I was able to come into work every single day wearing the same pair of jeans and rotating out 3 or 4 remarkably similar plaid shirts and the same shoes. Deciding what to wear took less than a minute, because face it, no one noticed or cared. I could not shave for 3 days, skip the shower even though I ran, and sport the same coffee stain for weeks on end and it made no difference. Now as I agonize over what matches and if I already wore that bracelet this week, I can appreciate the freedom men have to look like shit and get away with it.
4. Don’t Miss: Being Called “Sir”: Aside from giving my inner woman the heebie-jeebies, the term make me feel uncomfortably old and distinguished. Given that I feel about as old and distinguished as Ernie from Sesame Street, and certainly never looked any better, being called ‘sir’ was about on par with ‘your lordship’. At least with the latter I would have known they were joking and been able to laugh at the hilarity of it. I could also never quite believe I was the individual being addressed and instead would look wildly about for my old drill sergeant, sneaking up to bust my ass yet again. Yes, ma’am is better, if only by a short and curly.
5. Miss: Public Urination: No, no, that was never me whizzing on the side of your Jeep Cherokee in the Micky Rats parking lot, although there was a certain freedom in having that option. In dude mode, however, it was nice to be able to walk into any men’s room and relieve myself without any forethought or worry. Now that the row of splattered urinals is forever barred to me, I use the ladies, but with just a tiny smidgen of trepidation. Now, even hopping on one foot, I have to decide to either risk getting hollered at or risk adding yet another hilarious tale of my own humiliation to my formidable repertoire after failing to make it home in time. The good news is that I save up to 35 cents downgrading from the 4 gallon large Diet Coke at the movies to the wimpy 12 ounce cup.
6. Don’t Miss: Shopping Dude Style: Granted I finally got over myself some time ago, it was never really all that comfortable, and I certainly felt weird trying stuff on. Anyone marginally female knows size 14 means a whole range of things, only one of which stands a chance of looking good. I also felt compelled to shop in the male way, making bee lines for specific items and getting out as quickly as possible, all while making a half-assed pretention that I was buying for someone else. Now shopping is fun, I can take my time, and end up leaving the store without asking for a bogus gift receipt because I have exactly what I wanted. Probably a good thing I have no aspirations to amass a fortune in liquid cash.
7. Miss: The Old Wallet: There is a certain efficiency in carrying everything essential in a small folding container that was nearly impossible to forget somewhere, freed up the hands, and went with absolutely any outfit because it didn’t make many appearances anyway. In large crowds it was easily transferrable to the front pocket to thwart even the sneakiest of pick pockets. Unless you were George Costanza, it didn’t weigh much, yet still yielded occasional surprises like that free apple pie you won from McDonald’s Monopoly. The one I retired lasted 10 years, multiple washes, looked like something the dog threw up, and worked just fine.
8. Don’t Miss: Life Without a Purse: I know what I just said, and the wallet rocked for a lot of reasons, but nothing beats a purse for having what you need, whatever the occasion. Yes, I have to schlep it around and not leave it under the table when I leave the restaurant, but it’s oh so handy to have all my stuff. I’m never without a book, foldable flats when my new shoes shred my instep, sunglasses, makeup, every retail reward card ever issued, a snack, plus all the other shit that used to take up my pockets. Look, guys love to make fun of this, but all female clothing is designed to both hide faults and accentuate features, and a bulky ass wallet is the last thing we need to throw off the whole look, especially in the caboose. Also, I’m totally prepared if I ever have a yen to take up shoplifting.
9. Miss: Eating Like a Horse: Before the onset of hormone therapy, I was able to scarf down a giant steak and sausage hoagie with cheese and mayo, along with a large fries and not gain an ounce unless I did this every night, which of course I did. That was no problem because achieving a 5 pound a week weight loss didn’t take much effort. Now the rules have changed. Not only does food, especially chocolate, taste extra delicious, but merely smelling it makes me pack on weight like a sumo at the Old Country Buffet. On top of that, I can no longer actually eat specifically like a horse with big harrumphing bites and streams of stuff going down onto my shirt without looking like I’m on loan from Dogpatch. In guyland, that was just called enjoying a meal.
10. Don’t Miss: Male Interaction: Not a big stretch to say I always kind of sucked at this. The easy casual way men interact with each other, with the ball busting and other banter never came very easy to me. I’d either have to try to fake it, or remained fairly silent. I was good one on one, because it’s one of the few forums in which men tend to feel comfortable being real with each other. More was usually a free for all I could not keep up with. Talking with women came easy, but I was often pegged as being “different” which made things awkward for completely different reasons. Now though? Oh, sooo much better!
Bonus! Miss: Upper Body Strength: I had this list done yesterday morning, but after spending 6 and a half hours trying to put together a damn trampoline for my son, and struggling with backbreaking tasks like lifting cardboard boxes, screwing things together, and pulling springs, I decided I so, so, so miss my old upper body strength. Not that I was the type to kiss my biceps and welcome people to “the gun show” or anything, but still, it was nice to be able to carry in groceries in less than 5 trips.