So. Halloween. The anniversary of my femme self storming back into my life. Eighteen years ago now. On one hand, I then identified the Pain that was eating me alive. On the other hand, it destroyed my life.
Beaver Ave this morning.
A couple of weekends ago, a major nasty event happened in my life that I'm not ready to talk about yet. I will, just... I need to process it more. That said, I called the Trans suicide hotline twice that day. No answer either time.
Obviously, I'm still here. Unless I'm ghost typing.
I work at a used bookstore now. I research book prices and help customers. A lot less stress than the previous book store job. For one, the customers are a hell of a lot nicer. There's no corporate setting standards that make no sense. The owner of the store is a good person. In over a year, I've only been misgendered once. Also, I've encountered books going back into the 1600s. I've seen signed copies from legendary authors and poets.
And it's books. How can being around books be bad?
Don't answer that- I learned the hard way years ago.
In other news, the jump drive holding all my research crashed. A computer store charged me $79 to learn that they couldn't do a damn thing. They could send it to a specialist: an $800 maybe. I don't have rent, never mind that kind of money. I work retail and it just isn't enough to meet expenses, never mind dozens of medical bills going to collections.
Fortunately I was able to reconstruct most of what was lost. But one part I couldn't redo was the two dissertation chapters I wrote. Yes I have my notes and outline, but...
So now I have to remember to upload everything to the cloud or wherever.
I attended a party Friday night (Oct 30). I was invited by being in a transgender group chat. Everyone in costumes. Almost all were undergrads. Still it was fun.
For a costume, I dug my old TGI Fridays uniform out of storage. One of the stripes shirts still fit, though tight. After all, My body proportions have changed a bit. I had almost all of the rest of the required uniform: apron with order book and checks, four decorated tip trays, two wine keys, 4 pens, a lighter, and suspenders with 132 pieces of flair. The suspenders were loose, and to adjust them I had to move some buttons. They were rusted shut. All I was missing was the two red towels tucked into the back of my apron.
AI used to make this picture from two real pics.
My last shift at Fridays was 35 years ago. All but the pens were from way back then.
I wore the uniform- my "clown suit"- to work on Friday. It felt strange, and hearing the clatter of the buttons as I moved brought back memories.
I still have nightmares from that job. In them I am back at the restaurant at my age now, but everyone else was the same age they were then. I knew nothing about the menu or the ordering system. And I had so many tables...
I worked with a lot of amazing people at that job. Most of them I have no idea what happened to them. Several are dead. Some are on facialbook.
A lifetime ago.
Then Saturday I watched the Penn State game. I got bored watching it on my own, so i threw on a different costume and went to the bar across the street.
I couldn't afford it, but I wanted company. I was the only one there in costume. I had two beers and went back to the apartment.
And that was Halloween. Linda came back from work, we watched a movie, and called it a night.
That's how I marked the anniversary of my life irrevocably changing.
As I write this, tomorrow is election day. I hope. Maybe I'll write more. Or not.
Be well.
