Sunday, July 18, 2010

Part Two ~ From Man to Meg

There was a small cubby opposite the mirror and sink in the restroom. I put all of my makeup in the cubby so I could get what I needed easily. There was no real rim around the sink to work from. The lighting was less than stellar, but I had to work with what I had.

I already had my contacts in (part of my pre-mall preparation). I put on my foundation, eye shadow, eye liner, and as I was putting on my mascara a family came to the family restroom area (who would have expected that?!?). I could hear a mom and little girl outside the room. Someone tried the door and I said in my best Meg voice (which is to say, not feminine at all) "a few minutes please". I went back to my mascara a tiny bit shaken but glad I had actually locked the door. I had removed my shirt before starting, and the sight of a shirtless guy putting on makeup might have caused a bit of a commotion.

A few seconds later, there was a rap rap rap at the door. It was most likely the little girl. I ignored it. Unfortunately, so did the mom. The rapping was repeated two or three times and "Meg" said loudly "please stop that" and it stopped. I was thinking of pulling the door open before speaking, but... well, see above. :)

Mascara, lash curler, eye brow brush, blush, lip liner and lipstick, and powder and I was done with the tricky part. I pulled out my wig, shook it out, brushed it a bit and put it on.

Whenever I finish my makeup and put on my wig, I try to take a critical look in the mirror. I figure there are three possibilities:

- a girl is looking back
- a guy in makeup is looking back, or
- a particular guy is looking back.

I don't think I've ever looked and said "yes, that's me. Anyone can tell. I am doomed". I have looked and said "that's a guy. No question". When that happens at home, I usually stay at home. Today, if that happened, I planned to it all off and try again; it only took 30 minutes to get to this point and I still had time and I really wanted to do this. Maybe I'd have to skip my planned manicure, but not the flight.

When I looked in the mirror, I didn't see a babe looking back, but was that a woman? Yes, I think so. Yes, I'm pretty sure that's a woman. Good enough.

Good enough.

I put on my bra, forms, cinch, skirt, heels, and top. I put on my earrings, necklace, bracelet, watch, and a couple of rings. I looked again, smiled ~ that always makes me look more girl ~ and said to myself "Meg is flying to Kansas".

I packed everything else except my purse. I left out lipstick, lip liner, and lip brush. I also left out my powder, and cel phones. I put all of that in my purse. Already in there (pre-mall) was my cash, credit cards, driver's license, insurance cards, tissues, and a couple of other essential bits of plastic. All I had carried in my pockets was enough cash for the taxi.

I looked at my (girl) watch. Forty minutes from me to Meg. Is that a lot of time to add a "g" to "Me"?

I had plenty of time to get my nails done, maybe shop a tiny bit, and still get to the airport without breaking a sweat. And I wasn't breaking a sweat ~ I felt good, I felt calm, and I felt right. I shook my head, to feel my hair move and my earrings swing. That always reminds me how I'm dressed. Sometimes I forget.

I grabbed the handle on the rolling suitcase, took my laptop bag, put my purse over my shoulder, took a deep breathe and opened the door.

Meg is flying to Kansas.

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