Transplanted Life
Saturday, August 02, 2003
I feel like such a friggin girl.

And I don't just mean because of the boobs and the arrangement between the legs. I have now spent just about the entire day worrying about how I'm going to look tonight. It's ridiculous; there's no self-esteem at stake or anything, and it's not like Kurt and I will be doing anything where looking good is necessary. And if Kurt decides he's not interested in Michelle, then so what? The letter only says I have to try; it doesn't say "the only way you'll get your body back is if you date Kurt Davis for six months; otherwise, you're not only stuck as a woman, but you'll have horribly crabs". There's only an implied penalty for not trying, not for failure.

I figure that not looking nice for a first date would be considered not trying. So, I went out and got a haircut this morning. Sorry, I had Michelle's hair "done". Cost more than the $10 I'm used to spending on that, too. Then when I get back to her apartment, I start trying on outfits. I wished I knew what Kurt was planning, because I've been on double-dates with him, and he's not quite vain, but he always gets uncomfortable when he shows up in jeans and a T-shirt and the girl shows up looking good - he figures it reflects badly on him, or that she's showing him up, or something. But, of course, if it's the other way around, he takes it as a slight. So I went through practically everything Michelle owns that's not in the laundry basket. Too casual, too dressy, too revealing... I became a pathetic cliche of the girl who couldn't decide what to wear. I checked the mirror so often that I expected some eighties rock song to start up for the montage.

In the end, I've decided on a sleeveless red top (which isn't quite cut low enough to show any cleavage), a pair of capris, and some sandal-type wooden things without much in the way of heels for shoes (man, I hope I'm not like this long enough to know all the specific types of footwear). Of course, the capris are a little short, and it's getting late in the day, so it was pretty clear that Michelle's legs needed shaving again. I am buying some Nair the next time I go shopping, dammit - this is just a pain in the neck.

Then came the makeup. Michelle's got pretty good skin, I guess, and I've always liked the clean look, but I couldn't remember what Kurt liked. I put a little red on Michelle's cheeks, but not too much, I don't think. I feel silly doing it, but it's expected. Forunately, Michelle only has two or three lipsticks, and I didn't want the "deep red" one, so that was a pretty easy choice.

I can't believe I've just spent ten minutes painting my toenails, though. I almost feel like I'm not entitled to be a man again.

So there you have it. Five hours spent on what will likely be a three-hour date that I've got very mixed feelings about. I've made Michelle look pretty cute - can't say I didn't try - but it seems like an awful lot of preparation.

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