THE JULIEN PROJECT

2

“Mm!”

Where am I? What time is it? I try to reach my radio alarm clock but I can’t find it. Something is scratching my crotch. I’m groping this thing, which is... which is... A d**k?!

I jumped out of bed, shouting:

“I have a d**k; I have a d**k! Holy s**t! I have a d**k! I’m a dude! I have a d**k! A d**k! d**k! Why the f**k do I have a d**k?” I said, feeling the stiff thing between my legs. Help!

I can’t see anything and can’t find the switches. I walk on things littering the floor, scattered clothes, shoes, magazines… I bump into the legs of furniture that isn’t my furniture. I jump over the bed and leave the bedroom of this unfamiliar apartment to go to what I think is a bathroom. I arrive in front of the mirror. The light, an eco-bulb that struggles to turn on, becomes increasingly bright and I see myself:

“Damn… I’m a guy… what is this delirium?” I say aloud to this unknown reflection.

I hear a door slam but my mind is stuck on what I see, there in this mirror.

Wow! Holy shit...

I have just said more swear words than in my entire life before. I’m in shock. I became a guy while I was sleeping. It’s a bad joke, a nightmare! “I’m going to wake up, for sure!” I said, slapping this new thing between my legs. Come on, let’s calm down, let’s try to put things into perspective. Well… I’m a handsome guy, like Ryan Gosling… You see, if it is a dream it could be worse? Light brown hair, muscles everywhere, square shoulders, I look at myself from head to toe, wow! I’m at least six feet tall. It definitely could have been worse! And… I have a strong urge to urinate except… what do I do with this stiff thing?

I worry about peeing and then waking up and wetting my bed. But, dream or not, I need to go. My first pee as a man is a challenge. Do I have to raise the toilet seat? Sit down? Stand up? It would be much simpler if this thing wanted to soften a little… Well, it doesn’t want to! So, focus!

“We’re going to do this!” I say, holding my weapon delicately with my fingertips.

The urge is increasingly pressing. Okay, I stay standing! I try to twist this thing, concentrate on the manoeuvre, slightly bent over and on tiptoes to try to aim for the toilet but… it seems that in this position, I’m blocking the small channel which allows me to urinate. A jet escapes and falls in the wrong place. I immediately understand that urinating properly when you have an erection is a real feat and I instantly forgive all the men who may have soiled the public or private toilets. Anyway… They could still clean up afterwards. I turn around and finish in a sitting position for my first male pee, a pee that lasts for long minutes in a noise louder than a mountain torrent.

During this time, I try to think. This doesn’t feel like a dream. What did I do last night to find myself in this state this morning? I’m a girl, damn it! My name is Julie as far as I know! How could I have found myself in this body which isn’t mine? Okay, the manoeuvre is over, I’ll do my investigation.

I walk around the apartment. Near my front door, I find a sheet of paper on which is written: It was nice last night but a guy who jumps around shouting “Damn, I have a d**k” when they wake up, it’s scary!

So that was it, the door that slammed earlier when I was in the bathroom… It was the escape of the girl I spent the night with. What the hell, why can’t I remember what I did last night?

I continue my investigation into these... at first glance, I would say seventy-five square meters. Rather nice, this decoration. Sparse furniture, car magazines lying around, a huge TV when I remember mine was very small, a video game console when I have never played a single game in all my life.

The kitchen is clean as if it had never been used, the dressing room is tidy, there are quite a few outfits, super classy and shiny pairs of shoes, and more casual outfits it seems, especially the clothes I must have worn yesterday because they’re in a ball at the foot of the bed. But yes, last night, I drank because… it’s my birthday… I’m thirty today!

I dig in my pockets for a clue. I find my cell phone, the latest high-tech gadget that I never, oh never, would have allowed myself as Julie. I look at it as if the object could tell me who I am before it vibrates while displaying the picture of… my mother!

“Oh, damn, it’s Mom!” I said with a start.

Okay, first, I’m going to stop saying damn, because, frankly, it’s rude and whether I’m a girl or a guy it needs to change!

“Gosh! Pushpins, it’s Mom!”

It’s still good news, I haven’t changed mothers. I’m super happy to hear it. Then? Should I answer or not? Time to think, the call switches to voicemail.

“s**t! Too late! Oops… Good heavens! That’s better!”

Well, I understand that a man says more profanity than a woman. The words crossing his mind come out as they come, but a woman tries to control everything she says. I’m learning some things about this male body! In ten minutes, I realized that peeing isn’t that easy and that mastering your language isn’t innate.

Beep-beep. A message. It’s my mother. I’ll surely find out more. The metallic voice announces:

“Today at 10:45 am: Hello, Julien! I wish you a happy birthday, my darling. I hope you haven’t forgotten that we’re having dinner tonight. Sylvia, Jeremy, and the little ones will be there too. They’ve come especially for the occasion. Come with your girlfriend ... Okay, call me back, my little darling. I would like to make sure that you’re okay. Uh… It’s Mom! Kisses! And one more happy birthday, my little one!”

The first discovery, my name is Julien. Julie/Julien, rather logical. At least, if we can speak of logic in this whole story. Otherwise, things don’t seem to have changed. My sister is Sylvia. She’s married to Jeremy; the little ones are there. Everything’s fine!

I decided to call her back. I scratch my throat to clear my voice. First dial tone, she picks up:

“Hello, Julien! Phew, I’m relieved, you can’t know. I was worried, you usually call me every Saturday morning but today, nothing. I was afraid. You went out yesterday night? Did you come home late? Where did you go? Did you bring a girl back? You have…”

“Um, um… Mom! It’s okay, everything’s fine.”

“Are you sure? Your voice, it’s weird...”

“No, it’s okay. It’s morning, it’s normal. Hmm, hmm... You know, the morning voice... That’s all!”

“If you say so! I hope you haven’t started smoking again.”

What? Cigarettes? Julien smokes?

“No… Never in my life!”

“Ah, I’m proud of you, my son. That’s good! Okay, so, still okay for tonight? You could come with Melanie.”

‘Uh… Melanie?”

“Well yes, Melanie.”

Damn… Melanie, who’s that? If it’s the girl from last night, I think there’s no more Melanie.

“Well, Mom… I have to tell you, it’s over with Melanie.”

“Is that so? But why? She was so nice! For once you… I mean, she was good, for you…” she said suddenly very sad. “When will you find the right shoe for you, Julien? You know, your father, he doesn’t say anything but he’s also worried about you...”

“Mom! Stop worrying about me, okay? Melissa is gone...”

“Melissa? Do you mean Melanie?”

“Melissa, Melanie, whatever. I don’t know what made you think she and I were for life, but hey, that’s it. Okay? I don’t intend to dwell on this with you, Mom. Nor with Dad for that matter, and if you’re going to lecture me tonight then I’d rather this dinner not take place.”

“You’re kidding, I hope!” she said, changing her tone. “We’ve always celebrated birthdays. So, you had better come tonight, alone or accompanied, as you want, but I’ll not allow you to let us down. Today, you’re thirty years old, sweetie. It’s time for you to mature.”

“All right, Mom,” I said without flinching. “Uh, Mom... You haven’t changed your address, by any chance?”

“But what a question! Of course not! Julien, you worry me, you know. You’re strange.”

“Everything’s fine, I promise you.”

“Okay, so see you tonight. And bring me your shirts.”

“My shirts?”

“Well, yes, so that I can iron them. Julien, you’re really very weird.”

“I was kidding you, Mom. My shirts, of course!”

“Your humour leaves something to be desired!”

“On that, Mom, I agree. See you tonight!”

“See you tonight, my son.”

When I hang up, I collapse on my king size bed, exhausted from this conversation. I feel faint. Gosh. I’m not going to get out of it. My whole universe seems unknown to me. In this body, everything is new. Who am I? This apartment is superbly appointed, completely different from mine. Mine, Julie’s, seems smaller, more sober, more stuffed with salvaged or antique furniture but so warm where the soul of Grandma Louise still seems to live. I think at a thousand miles an hour. How am I going to be a boy with my girlish thoughts? Did I have the same life? There are too few clues in this newly renovated apartment. And then I have my mom ironing my shirts, if that isn’t some crazy thing, then I don’t know what it is! Alright, come on, I mustn’t let myself be defeated. I have eight hours ahead of me to find answers and go back to my old life. It’s a bad dream, that’s for sure. I’ll take a nap and when I wake up everything will be back to normal.