Tuesday, September 05, 2006

Jake/Ashlyn--clothes make the woman

When Art told me he was going to go to Cambridge and live Elizabeth’s life I was kind of surprised. I just kind of assumed we would all stay around the Inn until some solution was found. But Art pointed out that sooner or later, if the pattern remained the same, someone else was going to have his old life—and he hoped whoever that person was would take care of his life until he got back to it--and he planned to do that for Elizabeth.
He also pointed out he could take the train back if he need to be at the Inn for any reason.

Damn it. Art made a lot of sense.

I had also considered going home to Texas, and holding up in my apartment for a while—but I knew a new Jake Mathews would probably come home some day and I would have no legal right to be there. I might get tossed out on my new shapely butt.

No, Art had the right idea. I decided I was also going to assume Ashlyn’s life—hopefully not forever.

In an odd way, making the decision was a relief—I finally had a plan of action. I had been walking around aimless for days; it felt good to have direction.

The first thing I decided to do was change into some of her clothes. If I was going to make this work, I needed to look the part. I opened up her—no mine—my suitcase. For now, this is my life and this is my stuff. I went through my clothes and was kind of concerned by how small and sexy everything was. Apparently I was the kind of girl that liked to show off her body. What was the phrase? If you got it, flaunt it?

I wasn’t ready for flaunting. I undressed and slid on some panties and a bra. The bra wasn’t that difficult to put on, it wasn’t rocket science or anything.
There were mostly skirts, but there were a couple of pairs of jeans. I grabbed those and what looked like a grey henley t-shirt. I had henley’s in my closet back home, so I felt pretty comfortable putting it on. Unfortunately, this t-shirt hugged my upper body and the neck “scooped” way down my front showing off a bunch of cleavage. My boobs were obviously on display. I considered changing, but looking through everything else the suitcase, this was probably my best choice.

I had found a small digital camera, a phone and a purse in the suitcase—the phone was turned off. I push the button and it came to life, letting me know I had 22 messages. I sat it aside for later.

I picked up the camera and looked at the photos on the memory card. There were several of pictures of Ashlyn and Elizabeth out having a good time on the beach. Art was right; I did now own a bikini and looked amazing in it. I ran across some other non-beach “candid” shots, and used them for references for my hair. I spent an hour and a half before I figured out how to use the “hair clip” thing. It was a plastic clip with interlocking teeth that held a large amount hair up in back. It created what was like a ponytail, but shorter. It was nice to get out from underneath all that hair.

I had no idea what to do about makeup. I did a little browsing on the internet for help, but the information was over-whelming. Too many types of make-up, too many colors, and too many choices.

I almost decided against trying anything, but in the back of my mind I knew it was only a matter of time before I had to wear some. No attractive 23 year old woman would be caught without some kind of makeup. So I experimented with lipstick for a while, until I got to the point where I didn’t look like I was wearing clown paint.

I slid on some shoes without heels and turned and looked in the mirror.

It was shocking. Sure, she needed a lot of help in the hair and makeup department, but there stood an attractive young woman, ready to head out.

The rest of the day I spent backing up my laptop to dvds. Art had suggested the idea, and I’m glad he thought of it. I really wanted to take my laptop with me—Ashlyn’s laptop, my new laptop—is a much older model, and is a Mac. My laptop is a very powerful and very new “portable desktop” and a PC. I use it for my work in graphics.

But that isn’t my job anymore. The new Jake will need it for his job. It kills me, but I am going to leave it.

I get done backing everything up and then I set down to write my letter to the new me.
I think the hormones in this new body must be affecting me, because for the first time since the change, I cried.

It was like my best friend had died… only it was me.

When I get done I run out to an ATM and take out some money out of the Jake Mathews account. I had no idea what my new financial situation was, and I was not going to be penniless. There was several thousand in the account, but I only took several hundred. Jake was going to need his money.

I get back to the Inn and pack up everything. I put Jake’s things in the closet with the Letter clearly on top. I decided to give the next guy a little help by putting out in the open.

I'm going to post this, grab my suitcases, and head for the train station—I'm on my way to my new life.

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