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.

Okay... I started the post below at around 10:30 Friday night, so where you see "Yesterday", think "Thursday", and where you see "Tomorrow", think "today" or "Saturday".

Which means I really should hit the sack... Big night tonight.

So, I called Kurt last night. The whole thing with Kurt is weird, because I have to keep reminding myself that my best friend really doesn't know who I am. As far as he knows, I'm some random girl he met in a bar who dissed him and then apologized a few days later.

That said... I had some fun with it. Normally, those calls to someone where you've exchanged phone numbers and are trying to set up a date are awkward things where you're trying to guess what the other person likes, and trying to come up with something to do that won't make you look like a complete clod. They just suck. They are, quite frankly, enough to put one off dating entirely. They're a necessary evil that you go through because otherwise, you're never going to get to know this person who was at least attractive when you were both drinking better, you won't get much chance to do the things people do on dates but not by themselves like eating out and going to concerts, and you won't be "getting any" a few dates down the line.

Now, consider my position - I know this guy. I really don't want to "get any" in my current condition (or would it be "giving any"?). Any sort of new relationship that would spring from it would be inherently based upon lies, and even if by some cruel - and, really, unimaginable - irony I found myself falling in love with Kurt (this is hypothetical, remember), I could have it dashed when this body's rightful owner takes it back. Or that Kurt would be stuck dating Michelle, and I'm not sure I'd wish a relationship with the woman who did this to me on anyone, much less a good friend. And yet, from the maddeningly vague letter Michelle left me, I have to do this or face some sort of consequences. And I don't have to fumble around - I have some idea what Kurt likes in a girl beyond the fine physical attributes Michelle has.

So, I pick up the phone, and when he says hello, I tell him that I'm talking to him from the bathtub, "because I figured, why just sit there?" The guy has a weird, I don't know if it's a fetish, but predisposition to women in the tub. The background on his computer, two prints on his walls... He likes naked girls, but seems to need a reason for them to be naked, even if that reason keeps him from actually seeing their nakedness. He's funny that way.

Anyway, he's stammering, and since I've heard the memorized things he says to stop stammering while talking to a woman on the phone back when we were roommates in college, I'm able to finish sentences. It kind of feels good - not only does it hook him so that we can go out like Michelle obviously expects us to, but it keeps me in control of the situation, when I've got far more reason to be timid than he does.

When all was said and done, we wound up making a date for dinner and a movie tomorrow evening. He's got pretty decent taste in movies, so we won't be looking at another Morvern Callar incident.

Of course, after I hung up, I ran to the bathroom and hurled. I'd played along like it was some kind of game, but once it sank in that in about 48 hours I'd be going out on a date with another guy. It's not just a homophobic thing, though - I'll be lying to someone I like, and involving him in this whole bizarre business. And why? Because I want my body back, and this may - may! - be something I have to do to get it, what it means to other people be damned.

It's not really a nice thing to do, is it? I mean, I can tell myself that I'm just being true to my word that I would go for him if I was a woman, but even though I really do think Michelle could do a lot worse... It's just using him, and I also think my friends deserve better than that.

Thursday, July 31, 2003
I'll start with the small news first: It looks like movie night is going to be a weekly thing. Which is cool; I like Kate and Jen. Kate would really be my type if I were still me, and I certainly wouldn't kick Jen out of bed for eating cookies. I don't like lying to them, but who wants his only friends to think he's nuts? Jen's seeing someone, anyway, and Kate just got out of a relationship. Not that either of them would go for me right now, of course.

Of course, the problem with combining "movie night" with "girls' night out" is that occasionally you wind up at something like Morvern Callar. It's definitely a chick flick - I don't think there are any male characters of any consequence in it - and outward appearances aside, I'm not a chick. It bored me senseless, and that's from someone who loved Samantha Morton in Minority Report. I felt stupid watching it, especially seeing Kate really getting into it and Jen at least not looking at the clock like I was. (How strange is that clock in the Brattle, anyway? I can't think of any other movie theaters that have working clocks in the auditorium) And looking at the clock just reminded me that I could have been home or at a bar watching the Sox game at first.

Afterward, Kate was going on about how the lack of men in the movie made it about female independence or something, but Morvern doesn't actually do anything except live off the money and work of her dead boyfriend. Sure, I could see that Morvern was realizing show liked women more than men, and this made her something of an outcast, but it wasn't terribly entertaining, especially since she seemed so dim. I don't think Kate expected a receptionist to really be analyzing a movie like that, so it kind of broke down before we could really get into it. Jen just jokingly seperated us and said it was my turn to choose the movie next week. I think they're expecting me to choose something just as arty. Oh, how wrong they are...

Anyway, I got to Michelle's apartment and turned on the ballgame and immediately wished I hadn't - it was an ugly, Nomar-less mess that added credence to the idea that Ramiro Mendoza is some kind of Yankee spy. But that wasn't the big news.

The big news is that there was a message from Kurt on Michelle's answering machine. I wasn't quite starting to get worried - after all, a lot of guys will wait two or three weeks before getting a phone number before calling a girl - but it's a load off my mind. I'll probably call him back sometime tonight, and hopefully this will put me on the road to getting my real life back.

Wednesday, July 30, 2003
Had a scare the last few days. I'm a computer programmer - or at least, I was before Michelle swiped my body. So, when Michelle's cable modem went on the fritz Sunday morning, at first it seemed like no big deal - I've had it happen to me before, so I tried to fix it myself. I spent most of the day trying, and nothing worked. It had me really worried - I'd sort of been wondering how this girl could just take over my life, and now I had to consider the possibility that along with my body, she'd taken any specialized knowledge she might have needed.

I don't think that's the case - the next couple days at work, I managed to get VB installed on my machine and was able to convince myself that I hadn't forgotten anything - I started at "Hello World" and eventually built a small Access DB that I could read via some simple ASP. Sure, that doesn't sound like much, but I had to do it between answering phones and directing visitors; I'm reasonably convinced that I haven't lost a step and just suck at network stuff. And it's not as if there's a whole bunch of secretary stuff ready to use in Michelle's head (Or personal hygeine stuff, for that matter).

Of course, it could still just be a one-way street - Michelle could have all my skills but not granted me any of her own. I suppose it made some sense - if those skills included "magic" or whatever she did to switch us, I'd have been out of her body way before now. If she does have my abilities, though, it kind of ticks me off - well, ticks me off more. Four years of college earning a degree, and she just swipes them like nothing. Sure, I'd like to be able to download .Net making sense into my brain the same way, but I'd pay for it or earn it or something.


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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