The Gender-Bender, the Soup, and the Blur of a Weekend

As if my life weren’t crazy enough, this story has been unfolding since Wednesday.

I was at work when my phone rang. Since the area code was local, I answered. (when you have a business that’s listed on the internet, telemarketers have a tendency to swarm like vultures, so I just let most calls from out-of-state area codes go to voice mail.) I’m currently running a prom special, so I answered. It was a guy.

The conversation started out a little slow. He asked if I did makeup in a salon. I told him I was a freelancer and did mostly television makeup. He asked if I did anything more glamorous. I told him about the prom special and asked if it was for his wife or daughter. He told me he would be the client. *awkward pause* “Is it Pride already?” *nervous laughter* I haven’t done drag makeup in a long time.

“I’m not gay. It’s for a party,” he said. We talked a little while longer, agreed on a time and he texted me his address. I still had no idea what this was for. I just hoped this wasn’t his brand of kink that he was looking to indulge. (The job was on a Friday. I’m usually exhausted by the end of the week and have little patience for weirdness, perverts, or anything more than the job I’m hired to do.)

Because I’m female and always take the requisite safety precautions, I looked up the address, found his last name and within seconds had gone through his Facebook profile. He was attractive, a programmer AND a musician… SERIOUSLY? Regardless, I texted the address to 2 of my close girlfriends and the guy I would be working with on a shot for MSNBC first thing in the morning. People knew exactly where I was and what I’d be doing. I felt safe.

When I arrived, I was greeted by 2 of the tiniest chihuahuas I’ve ever seen. He was running around nervously, brushing his teeth, going from room to room. I think he’d started rethinking the whole gender transformation thing, but it was too late. I was there unpacking my large, unwieldy girl makeup kit. He was committed.

I got to work at his kitchen table in the worst light imaginable. I knew he was straight because he still had Christmas cocktail napkins out. A gay man would have tossed those in January. And there was also no better lighting in his house. The lighting in the guest bathroom was even worse. But still, we persisted. I made him into his twin sister Julie. His friends got a kick out of that. He said they called him Julie all night. (I’m not sure if I’m charmed or freaked out a little by this, but I’ll continue my story.)

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His outfit was all the sequins, leopard print and gold lamé I could handle… and in heels he looked 7 feet tall. I really should have gotten a full-length photo, but hindsight is 20/20. He was the straightest, manliest drag queen I’d ever seen. I was thinking at this point that he’d lost a bet.

As it turned out, he had 2 close girlfriends who watched RuPaul’s drag race and they’d dared him to do it. Being someone who doesn’t back down from a challenge, he embraced it head on… and hired me. Strange how these things work out.

We had a drink together, talked a while, then he asked what I was doing the next night. I paused for a second, thought about how much fun I was having talking to him and how effortless the conversation was… then accepted.

So basically, this was my weekend.
(He knows more about writing code and music theory than I do which makes me want to both punch him in the face and hang on to him at the same time. I think I’ll live.)

this weekend

And Sunday I went with my friend Erin to see Bowling for Soup. I’ve always loved them because as you know… I’m a sucker for a clever lyric and a band who has a sense of humor about themselves.

The opening bands were like sandpaper on my eardrums, but BFS made my evening. Erin and I were (of course) right up front and I took a ridiculous amount of Facebook live footage. (to that point, I realized hardly anyone is up that late on a Sunday and I probably shouldn’t be either.)

There was a child on his Dad’s shoulders the entire concert 3rd row center. They endured both opening bands to hold that spot and had earphones to protect his ears. It was DARLING! And Jaret took notice. Here are a few photos of the child and Jaret giving him picks from all guitarists, a drum stick and a set list autographed by all members.

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Another Epic weekend…. Check!

World’s Cheesiest Holiday

On the radio this morning I was reminded that National Grilled Cheese Day is coming up next Wednesday (April 12th). Not that we don’t have enough holidays to celebrate as it is, but glorifying the best food item known to man seems legit.

A few years ago when I took a “Hair-styling for Makeup Artists” course in Dallas, TX, I spent a few weeks prior scouring the internet for things to do there while I wasn’t occupied with studies. One of the reasons I chose Dallas was because I’d never been. Also, a comparable class wasn’t offered anywhere near me, so I saw this as an opportunity to combine education with vacation.

I booked a “Foodie Tour,” which I discovered was a great way to stuff yourself with amazing food while getting exercise and meeting a few folks along the way. The tour guide had each person wear a name tag bearing the name of a famous Dallas celebrity. I was Morgan Fairchild (of course I was). It was at least 105 degrees the day of the walk and we sampled everything from tacos to barbecue to crawfish to decadent desserts. It’s possible that I gained 10 pounds that day. What I didn’t sweat off is still with me.

The day I arrived in Dallas, I secured a rental car and made my way to a restaurant that specialized in grilled cheese sandwiches. At the time, these were rare. Now the concept seems to have spread like wildfire as dozens more seem to have popped up overnight. I remember how lucky I thought I was to have found the ONE grilled cheese restaurant on the planet. Ha! How the times have changed. Now there seems to be one on every corner. Places like Gooey’s and Tom & Chee are becoming the new chains of choice for grilled cheese aficionados across the nation. We even have a food truck devoted specifically to the science of crafting grilled cheese deliciousness.

Hungry yet?

I’m seriously considering hosting a “Grilled Cheese Day” party just for grins. (And because I haven’t had a decent grilled cheese in a month of Sundays) After all, I’ve spent years perfecting my recipe. I might as well share it.

I’m not exactly sure when my love of grilled cheese began, but I do remember summers when my parents would rent the Neese’s timeshare at Atlantic Beach. It was the second week of August every year, like clockwork. In my quest to be popular, one day when it rained I invited the entire crew of teens up to our place for lunch. Mom and Dad were good sports, but I think the only things we had in any large quantity were cheese, bread and butter.

That was the moment I learned to craft the basic-white-bread-2-Kraft-single Grilled Cheese. It was also the moment that I became a short order cook for about an hour.

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In my quest for information about this holiday, I stumbled upon a comprehensive list of every odd, nonsensical, cult-following, or “just because” holiday. If you need a reason to celebrate something on any particular day of the year, here it is:

Comprehensive list of all holidays (at least one per day all year).

Holiday

They Walk Among Us

Have you ever had a friend you thought was so terrific you often wondered why they were still single? Or perhaps YOU are that friend. Evidently, I am that friend. I both relish and fear this thought for a few good reasons:
Sure, it’s very flattering to be thought of as such a hot commodity. HOWEVER, I always fear that things will not go well and I will forever be known as “that bitch who broke my friend.”

Flash forward to last night…

Recently, a friend has taken an interest in making sure that neither Lee Ann nor myself don’t remain single on her watch. Although, both attempts failed and each rendered its share of awkwardness, mine may have won the prize.

It started out innocently enough. A post-work drink at a bar near my house. The location was strategic in case I needed to make a quick getaway, but I didn’t think it would be necessary. What I didn’t know was that he was 3 beers in when I arrived. It’s possible that everyone on the premises knew but me.

He made a point to let me know that he liked my looks… A LOT and then went on to tell me how much he worked out, how great he was at sex (because evidently I needed to know right away?), how much he liked my swimsuit photos on Facebook, how much he loves golf and has a trip to Myrtle Beach planned for which he’s set a countdown timer on his phone (which he needed to show me of course), how he used to work for Microsoft (and after that could get his pick of jobs like he was some sort of wunderkind), and how he now works for Lenovo. Then he told me about how he travels all the time since he’s divorced and his kid is 18. He also made a point of giving me the exact figure he paid his wife in the divorce and probably expected me to flinch more, but I was too busy processing all of the nonstop braggadocio.

I almost did a spit take when he asked, “and can I talk about myself for a minute?” It made me wonder what it was we were doing before. Was I talking about myself? Nope. I told one story about one person we knew in common. Other than that, I couldn’t get a word in edgewise. He told me his work was sending him to Germany on Saturday. Then he asked me if I was seeing anyone else. Before I could even answer him he told me he was seeing a few different women. A FEW? Then he expressed a huge amount of disdain quite loudly that they all wanted him to take care of them. That was what he thought all the girls he dated had in common. Not that they were all pretty… or all blondes… or all tall… NO. He thought they all wanted him to look after them. This is probably news to those women.

After this loud declaration (which was probably the middle of beer 7ish?), he took my hand and told me he was taking me to Germany with him. He went on to say that I was buying my own plane ticket, but that we’d have steak every night and even though we’d be staying in the same hotel room I didn’t have to do anything with him. Good Lord, he didn’t even bother to ask if I was vegan! (which I’m not, but still… I don’t think it would matter much) And then he told me that he would need to work during the day, but I could go shopping. Gee… Like I need more stuff in my life. And to be held captive by this loon in a foreign country eating steak and wandering around by myself while he worked? Sounds like the premise for a horror movie.

When he excused himself and went to the bathroom, the two women seated beside me at the bar, the bartender, and the promotions guy from a Brewery in Fuquay who had watched him pre-game while he waited for me to arrive decided that they had heard enough. ALL OF THEM told me to run just as fast as I could to get away from this loser. They couldn’t believe the crap that was coming out of his mouth. They were appalled that he put a price tag on his marriage and told me he would probably put one on me as well. His repeated insistence even after my repeated refusal about the Germany trip, which was only 3 days away they found odd and pushy. They figured that he saw women as possessions, just as he saw everything else. He was big and important and owned everything. He saw no reason he couldn’t own me as well.

As soon as he returned, I glanced at my watch and remarked about how late it had suddenly become. I started putting on my jacket, an act which he tried to dissuade. I got up and started for the door. The 2 ladies beside me nodded and told me not to worry about the tab, they had my back. To be honest, I was really happy to see how women I didn’t even know would look out for me.

He was hammered. I let him walk me to my car, then watched him stumble away. I figured he probably walked back to the bar (which was the only reason I didn’t pop my head back in to thank the women and pay my tab myself). My friend informed me later that he called an Uber. She also informed me that he wouldn’t have been able to start his car because he had an ignition interlock device installed in his car. This would have been useful information to have known going in. Ugh, the Achilles Heel of all that bravado. Ridiculous.

Not Today Satan

Today is the day I find out if my house is slowly sinking into the abyss. I have an appointment with someone who is going to crawl under my house to inspect my foundation and supporting beams. A few years ago someone noticed an indention near the guest tub where the floor had caved in. A few years before that, the tell-tale cracks above a few entrance-ways began to form. Since all of my home repair knowledge came from my father, I believed him when he told me, “It’s just the foundation settling. It happens. I just need to put a jack under the house and jack it up.” To this day, that hasn’t happened. And due to my recent DIY and organization streak, the moment of reckoning is upon me.

I bought my house a year after my graduation from college to avoid “throwing money away on rent.” Because I was young and cared more about socializing, buying cute clothes and learning the newest makeup techniques… that’s where the majority of my time, effort and disposable income were spent. To be honest, I had no business becoming a homeowner. Then again, I’m grateful that I purchased my little pillbox house when I did because it’s about a 15-minute drive to just about anything I need. I’m literally in the middle of everything. Nowadays, people pay a small fortune for a luxury like that.

Some people go through life with a checklist. Car, College, Marriage, Dog, House, Kid(s)… My mother told me that I’d meet my husband in college. That never happened. After I graduated, I looked back, thinking I must have done something wrong. I hadn’t.

My parents had a few very rigid ideas about how I was to go about the business of my life. When I was younger, they never allowed me to have any pets except for the occasional hermit crab, fish or gerbil. I was allergic to cats, but dogs were out of the question. Although I was doing musical theater since age 7, art, writing poetry and music… my parents insisted that I get a degree in “business” so that I would have “marketable skills.” They didn’t want me to be a “starving artist” living under a bridge in a cardboard box, which was how they saw anyone who sought a career in art of any kind.

I’m on my second dog now. The first was a gorgeous Pekingese puppy I picked up at a pet store with an old boyfriend. I told him, “When we tell my parents, you gave me this puppy as a gift, right?” My parents eventually warmed up to the little fur ball. They even shed a few tears when he passed away after 16 years of being their precious GrandDog. Now I have a big fuzzy Australian Shepherd rescue. I think rescue dogs appreciate you more because they’ve been through stuff. Adopting that little fur face was the best thing I’d done in a long time. I’d almost forgotten what it was like to be loved unconditionally. This little guy taught me how to love and be loved all over again.

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And as far as that “starving artist” stuff goes… I’ve been doing my best to make Mom & Dad eat those words. I still have my “responsible steady day job” that pays the bills, but I’ve been enjoying growing my side hustle. I signed up for this monthly box designed for female entrepreneurs and found out today that the curator lives in the Charlotte/Rock Hill area… only a stone’s throw away! I’ve been messaging with her since I’d been stumbling upon motivational content of my own. She just started her box business in December and it’s already one of the most sought-after on Cratejoy.

Nowadays people are finding (and fueling) their passions in so many unconventional ways. It’s possible to make a living doing things that the generations before us would scoff at. You just have to get out there and find out what really sets your heart ablaze. And be you, no matter what anyone else tells you, even Mom & Dad.

And Love Yourself.

Love Yourself

The makeup artist who makes politicians camera-ready

Just in case you were wondering what I do for a living, here’s a look behind the curtain. I’ve written an article for Bottle Magazine and I couldn’t be happier about the way it turned out. 🙂

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I’ve led a double life for as long as I can remember: one foot planted firmly in what my parents like to call “the real world” and one foot out the door toward more creative pursuits. Today, I write code for the North Carolina Department of Transportation while holding down a successful side- hustle as a TV makeup artist. When you love something enough, you learn how to make it work for you. I’m proof of that.

I started my business in 1999 when I worked part-time for a small talent agency. Eventually, I took a position as an adjunct professor, teaching special effects makeup for a film & television production program. The work was sporadic as I built my portfolio. And then one day, the call came.

Elizabeth and John Edwards

CNBC asked me to do makeup for a show called “Pros & Cons.” The call came on a…

View original post 1,306 more words

Rock Star Sparkle

This past week or so has been a crazy happy blur. I had a magnificent time in Charlotte and got to meet K. Flay! If you haven’t heard her music or seen her live, she’s touring now (so this is your chance) and she’s the absolute sweetest. She’s a hugger! The first thing she did when I approached was hug me! And when I told her that I’d driven over 3 hours to see her, she grabbed me and hugged me again! She may have even hugged me more than twice. I was so drunk with post-concert giddiness I hardly noticed. It was like hanging out with one of my best girlfriends. (If said girlfriend was a badass rapper/vocalist who made music you love.) She signed 2 cds and posed for so many photos with Allison and I (the lighting was SO BAD it was almost a must.) I wouldn’t have traded the experience for the world. In fact, I’m still all smiles just thinking about it.

It was nice staying with Allison for a day or 2. We look after each other. She cooked for me and made sure I had all the comforts of home. And I ended up coaching her on some online aspects of her business. I had brought her a book full of inspiration that I thought she’d enjoy, but I never saw myself fitting into a coaching role. I think the more we grow, the more we don’t think we have it “together.” We realize how little we actually know in the grand scheme of things. But growth isn’t supposed to be comfortable. That’s why so many people don’t do it. I’ve never been one of those people.

“And the day came when the risk to remain tight in a bud was more painful than the risk it took to blossom”
– Anaïs Nin

After a few days of adjusting and jumping back into work, I got to hang out with a few of my favorite people this weekend. Unfortunately, we were reminded that sometimes when things come too easy, there’s a catch. Lee Ann got ROCKSTAR parking in front of the venue, but when we returned to her car, she’d been hit by a party bus full of drunken millennials. I use the term “Party Bus” loosely. It was actually a retro school bus spray-painted black. I won’t go into details, I’ll just say that I hate that this happened to one of the most amazing people I know. In other news, the food and the company were nothing short of amazing. And I’d like to wish a Happy Birthday to our friend JD, who is always there for us. (#theoriginalJD)

Saturday morning I had one of the most interesting makeup jobs I’ve had in a while. A friend of mine who I’d met when I dated his college roommate (funny story… I totally got Delta Chi and Theta Chi confused. WHO DOES THAT? Luckily, he set me straight before I went on embarrassing myself for too long) hired me to do makeup for the Intro to his local cable access show. The makeup was to be a closeup shot of lips as they spoke the opening catch phrase. What I didn’t know was that he would arrive equipped with craft services of an edible arrangement, champagne, brie, crackers and a vegetable tray for the talent to enjoy after it was photographed. He was taking care of a few jobs he needed to photograph or film that day and we all got to reap the benefits.

As it turns out, Randal is a dental hygienist. It just so happens that the practice he works for has developed a kit for in-office tooth-whitening with a take home component and a nifty reminder app that whitens at least 3 shades without sensitivity in 30 minutes. Everyone on site got to try this out for themselves and it was GLORIOUS! It’s not every day that I show up on set, get spoiled with fancy treats AND get to leave with a shiny new smile!

Evidently, this tooth-whitening system will soon be featured on the TV show Shark Tank, so I’m not allowed to give too many details, but I may end up in some of the preliminary promotional materials.

And if you get a chance, listen to my new friend K. Flay. You’ll be glad you did.

It’s Story Time Boys & Girls

I’m going to tell you a story about my absolute WORST Valentine’s Day EVER…

At the time SATC (Sex and the City) was the HOT show. I honestly can’t remember what year it was, but I do remember that I hung out mostly with Jenny and Nik at Breakfast Club shows on the weekends. And if we didn’t go out every night of the week, Tara would throw shade behind our backs. Now that I’m not in my twenties, this seems completely ridiculous, but back then, we truly cared what everyone thought of us… perhaps a little too much.

We decided to throw a HUGE SATC-themed party at my house. We had a banner and invitations professionally printed, we divided up responsibilities between the 4 of us, we had rules and a guest list… We were really going to do this right. I think I even had a bartender friend mixing drinks for us. The night of the party arrived. We were the 4 hosts (Carrie, Miranda, Charlotte and Samantha) and everything was going swimmingly. We had people outside, we had people inside, there were basically people everywhere and it was a freezing cold January night. Everyone was having a great time. We had so many drinks spilled on the carpet and it was so sticky by the end of the night that a guest sent his cleaning crew over the next day to professionally clean it.

There was a guy there who I had been seeing for a little while. I didn’t want to jinx it, so I didn’t tell any of my girlfriends. He stayed over the night of the party. After that, I didn’t hear from him. Tara, who loved to stir up trouble, saw that I was visibly upset one night when we were out to dinner and pulled the information out of me. “Oh, he’s been seeing Jenny. I’m pretty sure his car is still parked in front of her house. It’s been there for days,” she said. And of course,  she drove me over there straightaway so I could see for myself.

At the time I was working on a 4-person musical called “The Taffetas.” Since there were only four of us onstage the entire time, the rehearsal schedule didn’t allow much time for much else, so I didn’t get hardly any time to see anyone.

When the guy texted me all apologetic and full of excuses, we exchanged a few pleasantries  and I pretended not to know what was going on. He asked if he could call me. Immediately his voice was strange. He asked me if I’d seen a doctor. He said he’d been diagnosed with Chlamydia and that I needed to see my doctor. I made an appointment as soon as we hung up.

My doctor, being proactive, went ahead and prescribed me the medicine that would cure me of this ailment and told me to go ahead and start taking it before the results came back just to be sure, because you can never be too safe. I called him back and told him what happened. He asked if I could give him my medicine. I think I was too naive to have called him out on his bullshit right then, or maybe I just needed more evidence, but I was definitely shocked that he asked and  wondered why his doctor hadn’t prescribed him any. It didn’t make sense, but I was too numb to care at that point. I remember zero words after that.

I went to rehearsal after my doctor visit and the phone call. I’d managed to somehow keep it together through all of that. When we were on break, I collapsed into a sobbing mess backstage. My friend Melissa picked me up. It was Melissa and her keen sense for BS who first sensed what was really going on.

I went through Valentine’s Day worried, alone, betrayed… I’m not really sure I have enough negative adjectives to adequately describe what was going on here, but I’m certain you get the picture. No one called. I think I got a card from Mom & Dad. That was the extent of my Valentine cheer. There I sat on my sofa thinking that this bozo who was currently screwing my best friend had given me an ST_… wait a minute…

The next day my doctor called. She had run a complete panel on every STD she could think of because after hearing my story, she didn’t trust the guy. Everything was negative. NEGATIVE.

I immediately called him, elated at the news. “Guess what?!? My results are negative!” Instead of being happy, he seemed angry. ANGRY? I don’t fully remember all that was said, but I remember being shocked at his response and how short he was with me. It occurred to me then that if this was real, he would be happy that I was okay and perhaps might have been worried about me and checked up on me while I had been awaiting the results. But no, he really only cared about himself! And the more we spoke, the more I realized that HE WAS LYING!

He made the whole thing up so that I would look like the bad guy and he could continue on unencumbered with Jenny. He just wanted me out of his way. He didn’t care if he tarnished my reputation in the process. What A Dick.

I told Jenny. I probably should have taken some time to step back and process more fully what had transpired, but at the time, I just felt like she should know. She didn’t take sides, but she didn’t really seem to grasp that what he did was as wrong as I thought it was either. They continued to see each other and eventually got engaged. During this time, I didn’t see her at all. When I think back on it, that relationship actually seems short-lived, Thank Goodness. I also remember her telling me what a big mistake it was.
And you know?
I can relate.