Sometimes, feelings hit you by surprise.

Case in point, I am here in Las Vegas, having spent the past four days as a guy with GF at a Rockabilly convention.  What a fabulous event it was, demonstrating that the 60-year old spirit of 1950s rock and roll, rhythm and blues and country hillbilly music is alive and well and that the next generation will keep the faith in impressive numbers and with ample exuberance.

Everyone was dolled up impressively in vintage fashions, with a certain modern edge for the younger set, the old and beautiful cars were on display, and The Killer himself – Jerry Lee Lewis – rocked the stage in impressive form.

In this environment, GF has (correctly) ordained that it is appropriate that we go as boy and girl – and I play the part of boy, cuz she’s no good at it.  Her soft voice, ample bust and very curvy hips make it pretty much impossible for her, but that’s a subject for another time.

So, here I am now, after a few days of floating on the very best kind of energy I know, and very much looking forward to the massive influx of my trans friends tomorrow morning and beyond, and I feel…

…well…

…like a guy.

I bought a bunch of very cool guy clothes today – I don’t often buy guy clothes any more but vintage stuff is just so cool and fits me much better than anything made in the past 20 years – and I haven’t really thought or felt girl for some time!  For the most part, I have been lamenting my inability to better look the part of a 50s hipster because of my long hair.

As I was putting away my boy clothes this evening, GF looked at me with a bit of sadness on her face – sad to say goodbye to her guy, with whom she got to spend a solid four days for the first time in ages – and, to my surprise, I kinda felt the same way.

It is time to shift gears, even if the clutch is stuck.  I’ll have time to think about what this all means when I get home, but starting tomorrow is a week I don’t want to miss.  My spirit will catch up in no time flat, I expect.