Transplanted Life
Tuesday, November 18, 2003
Happy birthday...
I'll bet no-one, in the history of surprise birthday parties, was more surprised than I was today.

This is, of course, because I was born on February 2nd, 1974. Michelle, however, was born on November 18th, 1978, making today her 25th birthday. I'd seen the date on her driver's license before, whenever I pulled it out to register for a website or something, but I hadn't done that in almost a month so the significance of the date slipped my mind. I wonder if she's doing anything to celebrate it out in Seattle. It's not every day, after all, that the body you were born is old enough to be elected to the U.S. House of Representatives.

This is one of the reasons I hold out hope of getting my body back, too - why would Michelle opt to become almost five years older (especially considering that, statistically, women live longer then men), unless she really hated being a girl or my body was just meant as a stepping-stone to another female one (Nataliya?)

Anyway, the folks at work were cool - Janet baked a cake, which the whole office enjoyed. Both the grandmother-types, Janet and Judy, clucked like I had forgotten my own birthday ("Well, it's not like it's mine..."). After work, Kate, Jen, and I were going to go to a little seafood place Kate knows, but Jen got held up until late, so we wound up going straight to "Get Made Up With Marilyn" at The Brattle.

Every couple months, the Brattle Theater and Origins, a nearby cosmetics store in Harvard Square, do this thing where they cover your face with crap, run a brush through your hair, and make you smell like some sort of flower before running a classic movie. "Get Made Up With Audrey" before Breakfast At Tiffany's, or, in this case, "Marilyn" before How To Marry A Millionaire. And Kate & Jen had gotten "Michelle" a ticket as a birthday present.

They were all excited about the pampering, but it drove me nuts. This was just a mini-makeover, but it still reminded me too much of going to the dentist: Sit around while someone tells you to hold still while they do things to you that you can only see in a mirror. Only, after seeing the dentist, I can generally get the funny taste out of my mouth with a tall glass of water. This left me with a whole mess of chemicals on my skin.

Did I look good? Hell, yes. Not quite as good as Kate wound up looking, but she's naturally pretty (not that she believes that). Michelle's body gets most of its sex appeal from its curves; the face I inherited is nice, and doesn't really need makeup, but I don't know as it would make a magazine cover if the shot was only from the neck up. These gals somehow made it seem a little more heart-shaped, made my neck look a little longer, and teased my hair so that it was a bit more elaborate than I bother going for. I can't imagine spending that much time on it every day, though, or spending the money for the gunk and equipment (Kate & Jen got me a gift certificate, but that might buy half the stuff they used).

Good movie, though I'd put a knife through Michelle's gut if "landing" some guy was the way girls went about it today. Kind of dated, really.

Anyway, I just got home, and was about to wash this stuff off and hit the sack. Looking in the mirror, though, I have to say that it would be kind of a waste to get rid of it now. I wonder what's open on Tuesday night where a girl whose face actually matches her killer bod for the day can get a guy to buy her a drink.


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Note: This blog is a work of fantasy; all characters are either ficticious or used ficticiously. The author may be contacted at