Sunday, September 22, part 1
"Girlfriend. Wake up. We're going to work on your morning routine today."
"Huh... Brie... wut the f.... What time is it?"
"It's 6:30am sweetheart, time to get up and prep like you're going to school. Time to practice `girl mode'."
"God damn you, Brie. It's fucking 6:30. I barely get up at 6:30 when I have to."
"C'mon, C'mon, C'mon... time's a wasting. Put on your fuzzy slippers and get your girly ass off that sofa."
Only at that moment did I realize I'd slept on the sofa again, with some kind of Netflix garbage on endless loop on the TV. Brie was making so much noise that Princess came bounding down the stairs, and Princess NEVER left Mom's side unless I was feeding her. Brie was standing over me basically wearing the same bra-less t-shirt and bootie shorts she wore yesterday, and I was dressed pretty much the same way. I notice I'd lost my bra sometime during the night. Why, I don't know, but I found it hanging off the edge of the sofa.
"Brie, I really want to put an `our of order' sticker on my forehead and go back to bed, y'know?"
"Not an option, sister. If you're going to `come out' this week, we need to get you into girlie boot camp. Now move your ass up to your bedroom. March, Private!" With that, she handed me a fresh bottle of water, yelling "don't forget to hydrate!" and headed upstairs.
I grabbed my bra and followed, wondering what hideous hell Brie had in mind for me. When I got to my bedroom (Princess padding along in morbid doggie curiosity), Brie took the bra from my hand, tossed it on the bed, and steered me directly for the bathroom. "First, let's do something with your hair."
Now, my hair is a mess first thing in the morning, admittedly so. It's not that long, but shoulder length and if I brush it one direction, it looks boy-ish' and in he other, more girl--ish'. Brie took a third option, grabbing all of my hair behind the back of my head, twisted it into a knot, and fastened with a plastic claw. "Ouch, Brie! That hurts."
"Bootcamp is a learning experience, Sister. Learn from he pain." She seemed to be chuckling at my discomfort. "Now, let's wash your face."
I'd rinsed my face yesterday when we got out of the pool, but now Brie was holding out a tube of some concoction. "This is hydrating skin cleaner. I'm assuming you have normal skin and no acne prob's. If you have dry skin, or oily, skin, or an acne prob, let me know." I just shook my head. "Now, lean over in the sink and scoop some warm water with your hands, and get your face all wet." I now understood pulling my hair nearly off my head to keep it out of the water. "Put a LITTLE dab of this cleanser on your face, and rub it in all over."
"You know, I've been scrubbing my own face for almost 15 years. Plus, Mom showed me how to clean my face and put on makeup last weekend."
"No, you've been scrubbing your BOY face, and not for 15 years. Someone else was scrubbing your little boy face for your first 4 to 5 years. Anyway, now you have a GIRL face, and that takes some different attention. Now, scrub, and I don't want to see a washcloth anywhere near you. This is a hands-only exercise." After a bit of scrubbing and rinsing, she handed me a towel and said, "now pat dry." I followed her drill sergeant orders.
Then, she said, "stick out your hand," and squirted a dab of yet a new cream/jell/mysterious ointment into my palm. "This is moisturizer. Apply gingerly. Rub in carefully."
Once I finished that exercise, Brie had me sit down on the stool in front of the vanity mirror. She asked, "Do you know what I like about coming over to your house?"
"The pulsating massage nozzle in the guest shower?"
"No, silly, I have one of those at home, but it really is a nice touch. Thank you. No, I like coming here because your bathrooms all look like they were designed and built by women. Lots of counter space and vanities with mirrors, lights and seating areas. Boys would be happy with just a bucket in the backyard."
"Now here," she went on, handing me my eyebrow brush, "clean up your brows." After a few licks with that, she handed me my mascara brush and said, "same with the eyelashes. Just a brush or two. You have lovely eyelashes, by the way."
"Now you're just flirting, you old lezzie."
"I'll have you know I am not old! I am the same age as you. Now, let's work on your makeup, and turn you into a right and proper trannie tramp."
"Fuck you."
"Ahhh... that's the spirit! Some girls wear a primer between moisturizing and concealer. I don't see the need for it, but think about it for the future. Now, let's dig out your concealer. You have great skin, and no really bad pimples, so you don't need much concealer, but work it in with your sponge. Next comes foundation. Dab this on, and then work it in with the large brush."
My arms were getting tired, and I wondered where all of this was going. It's not like we have school in two hours. Anyway, neither of us had even dipped in the pool yet.
"This should be therapeutic, Christy. Now, try this. It's called lip mask. You have lovely lips, and you only wear very light pink lipstick anyway. This serves as both a lip gloss and a lip moisturizer."
"Now, mascara. Yes, very light brown. This will just barely darken your lashes. OK. Really quick. Don't dwell on your lashes, or you'll clot them. That's great. OK. Do you use any blush? You need some very light pink blush, just for your nose and cheeks. Does Becky have any in her room? She's the same complexion as you."
I finally got a word in edgewise. "Yeah, she has some. I'll go get it." Whew... that gave me an excuse to actually stand up before my legs and arms started cramping. I couldn't help but notice we hadn't had any coffee yet, and Brie was going like 1000 miles an hour.
I came back with the blush, and she grabbed yet another sponge (where was she getting all this stuff? Was Brie secretly a cosmetic pusher?). "Now, Christy, dab this very lightly on your nose and cheeks. I said VERY LIGHTLY. You don't want to look like a circus clown. Yeah. That's what I'm talking about, girl!"
"Now, foundation. You can use cream or powder, but I like powder. Use this little brush. Just use a bit if it on your face and particularly forehead. At this point, some girls add a bit more blush, just lightly, just to layer the look."
"Is this written down, Brie? I mean, you've had 14 years to learn this crap. I'm into week 2, so gimme a break." So now we were 30 minutes into a makeup routine, and I hadn't even touched my hair. However, I had to admit, I liked what I was seeing in the mirror.
"Later, we're going to do this all over again, but we're going to add some work on your hair. I'm going to show you how to keep body in your hair with a big brush and a blow dryer, but we'll tackle that this afternoon before I leave. OK?"
"OK, my cruel taskmistress friend. Now, can I get some fucking coffee?"
"Oh, yeah... coffee.... I already had two cups before you woke up. It's really goo. I highly recommend it."
"Grrrrr..... you should have led with that, Brie..."
Mom was already in the kitchen, and had a laugh when she saw me. "I like the makeup, Christy, but you could really do something different with your hair."
I just nodded and said, "The drill sergeant, Brie, had her way with me, and I don't mean in a good way. Apparently she's going to want me to clean up and do this all over again later today."
"Well, that's a good idea, Christy. You need practice. But be careful. Even gentle scrubs and good moisturizing can be overdone. You'll burn your skin if you overdo it."
Brie nodded, "Yes, Ms. D. We'll be careful. Plus, is Christy going to wear makeup to school tomorrow?"
Mom shook her head, "No, just a bit of chapstick to keep her lips moist. Later, after school, before she goes to her doctor, she'll need to put on something, but even then just a little lipstick and a nice outfit. Do you have anything picked out, Christy?"
"Yes, m'am. I'm hoping to wear that little yellow romper that Brie gave me, if it's warm outside, and maybe a sweater."
"That would be perfect. You can dress in the car on the way over to Doctor Preston's office."
"I'm calling him Dr. Strange from now on."
"Now, Christy, be nice! Dr. Preston's here to help you."
"Yeah, but the whole thing is strange. I'm calling him Doctor Strange."
"Well, not to his face!" Mom changed the subject, "So, what do you girls want to eat?"
After the pizza orgy from last night, we both settled for a protein smoothie and more coffee. Mom said Aunt Lilly was coming over later in the day, and Brie mentioned she'd never met Lilly."
"Is Jason coming with her?" I asked.
"I can call her. Can he bring his bathing suit and join you in the pool?"
"Sure. Anytime. We'll probably be out there most of the day."
"Well, stay out of the sun. You're both too fair and you'll bake."
"Yes, m'am" we mumbled, almost in harmony.
Brie and I retreated to upstairs. I used the makeup remover to clean my face, and then moisturized yet again. I put on my one bathing suit, which had dried overnight, and the top Brie gave me, and headed out back to the pool. We have a partial kitchen out there, with a fridge loaded with soft drinks and some snacks. Princess, who seemed to be unusually curious about the state of affairs, followed me around more than ever before. Brie caught me on the staircase down to the pool, and remarked about how well the swimsuit fit. "Yeah, I'm getting expert wardrobe consulting from all angles," I told her.
Brie just nodded, then said, "You're butt really does look more girlie than boy-ish. You're passing extremely well." Then she added, "why do you have your iPad? Gonna check out some porn on-line?"
"You're funny, girl. No. I'm keeping a journal. A diary if you will. I'm going to take a few minutes and go ahead with the day so-far, so I don't forget anything. By the way, girl, while we're passing compliments, if I was into girls, which I'm not, you look hot. Lilly's son, Jason, is coming over, and you might just be the center of his attention."
"Yeah, that's a problem. Remember. Katniss?"
"OK, Gotcha. I'll try to keep him distracted, but he knows you're equipped better than I am."
"Yeah, well, maybe it's time for Emma-Brunette to start tutoring you."
I almost broke my iPad swinging it a her. She giggled and ran for the pool, grabbing one of the lounge chairs and striking her `too cool for this pool' pose. I pulled up next to her, put on my sunglasses, and started writing.