The following conversation ensued this morning at Starbucks:
"Your name please?"
"Mar-len-ey? Is that with a T or a Y?"
(Very puzzled look and a long awkward pause pause)
Its with an N.
So, I guess I should add MarlenyTY to the ever-growing Name Game list.
Ok, time to get back to and wrap up the cornstarch story. The cornstarch, as it turns out, was for a prosthetic penis which was apparently uncomfortable to wear otherwise. How did I find out? One night I decided way past my usual bed time that I must have some ice cream. So, I took myself into the kitchen, where Morgan was doing some washing. Of said prosthetic. Being awkward as I am, I HAD to continue with the operation-ice-cream mission. I was like, sorry I interrupted your genital cleansing, but I am a robot and I must get ice cream right this second (insert robot voice). Its like if you walked in on someone in the bathroom. You would apologize and leave, right? Well, I'd probably just go ahead and pee right over top of that poor traumatized person. AWKWARD (insert robot voice).
So, I thankfully didn't get caught up in any all-girl-illegal-underground-cornstarch-wrestling, which really would have done nothing for my productivity. The cornstarch awkwardness ended and things got back to normal. Until one day shortly after when Morgan and I were leaving the house together. Recall that Morgan and I had now been friends for like 3+ years and were in our second year of cohabiting. I caught a glimpse of Morgan putting on his shoes and got a bit freaked out. It seems I finally made the mental switch to 'Morgan is a dude' and suddenly felt as if I was in the presence of a stranger. And a man stranger at that. Whom I lived with. It was so very strange, and of course I got over it, but I was surprised at how binary my thinking was. And that I am apparently some kind of sexist. Even I, who consider myself quite liberal was so completely closed-minded that I couldn't mentally place a new gender on someone I knew. Someone I knew well. And I was all weirded out by living with a man. Well, a man who wasn't my husband that is. Huh. Who'd a thunk?
Don't worry, I did quickly get over myself. Like as if I was the one going through a MAJOR life change. Morgan's transition, believe it or not, had nothing to do with me. Which is weird because I am pretty good at making things all about me. Like right now. Its a bit nauseating really. Does being self-aware of your self-centeredness make it any better? Naw, its still annoying. BUT important... To me.
Well, I am happy to say that Morgan is doing well and is happier than I have ever seen him. Plus, he now has a beard, of such grandeur that I am sure Ron will be jealous. And Morgan has moved on and has another roomie. Next term I will be all alone, Morgan-less, thinking about poor widdle me and how the bottoms of my pants are wet from the freakin snow.