Wednesday, June 15, 2011

Sonora Sage, Part 1

The Lovely Sonora Sage
 Saturday, I met Senora Sage.  She had commented on my blog and I loved the name.  I poked around a bit and found her blog.  I read a few entries, went back to the beginning, read her bio, and I could find no obvious connection to the trans community.  She did have a number of t-followers.  Every blog of every reader I've had time to look at so far has been t-related.  I wrote her and asked her about it.

It turns out she works at the Arizona-Sonora Desert Museum.  She's British, from the Brighton area (SS ~ correct me if I misremembered anything) and has been in the states (various states) for a long time.

She also has a lot of friends in the lesbian and t-community.  And now she has one more.

I don't know what led her to my blog, but it was timely.  It was shortly before my trip to Arizona; she offered her opinion on my outfit options.

She offered to give me a "special tour" of the museum and perhaps go shopping.  I took her up on her offer.

I did not get enough sleep Friday night.  It took a while to write those posts you read over the past few days and longer until I felt like changing. Then, by the time I removed everything it was around midnight. I didn't put everything away, but I knew I'd have to do that before I go out Saturday so the maid service wouldn't trip over all my stuff.

One liberating thought: I had to remove everything, but I didn't have to remove everything.  I removed my makeup but didn't need to make sure every drop was cleaned up.  The next time anyone would see me, I'd still be Meg.

I was up, and not ready to fall back asleep, at 5:30. I was planning on getting up at 6, so I spent a futile half-hour trying to sleep for the quick minute I knew I needed but wouldn't get.

Notes From the Vanity

* Makeup should be repeatable. It never seems to be. My foundation did not seem to go on right. It seemed to cake in spots and not cover in others, especially my nose. Then... it did.

* My eye liner went better today than yesterday. Both eyes have thin black lines pretty much where I wanted them. Yesterday, from the line thickness, it seemed I had eye liner confused with ocean liner.

* My brows have looked better. Thank god for bangs!

* I decided to go with my "Christine O'Donnell" lipstick and gloss. Then I changed my mind and took it off and picked out something else.

* I considered getting coffee downstairs before leaving.  Did I mention my classmates are staying here? I have not decided to do this, but I'm getting nervous about it.

At 745, I was ready to go, sorta.  I e-mailed Sonora Sage and told her I was ready to lock up the computer and head out.  But I forgot to put everything away.  I quickly put away my makeup and clothes I wasn't wearing.  I also put the top and skirt from yesterday in a bag, along with my new slip and my mules.  I brought the mules so I could change shoes if the wedges became uncomfortable.  I brought the clothes because I decided to get coffee in the hotel after all and wanted insurance against a spill on the road.  I was careful and didn't need the extra outfit, but, well, that's why you have insurance, right?
I'll go into my visit with Sonora Sage tomorrow.  There was one interesting event on the road.
I'm Screwed.  No, I'm Passing
About ten miles out of town the speed limit went from 65 to 55, then 45, then 35, then 25, then 15.  The two-lane road became a one-lane road and a sign "all cars must stop ahead" followed the 15 miles per hour sign.  That was followed by an INS checkpoint.
There were three cars ahead of me.  Three agents were very interested in the car at the front of the line, opening doors, looking in windows, and so on.  They then directed the car to a holding area.
My thought: I'm screwed.  What do I say?  "Hi.  Well, this is embarrassing."
I didn't have a clue, really.  The next two cars were waved through with a just a glance inside.
I rolled down my window.  The agent waved my car to move up.
I looked at him through my sunglasses.
He said "thank you, ma'am.  Have a nice day."
I drove on.


  1. passed; you passed as a white person, non-Hispanic. Those INS guys couldn't have cared any less about your gender, as long as you were obviously a Miss and not a Senorita.

  2. --Looks like Sonora Sage is blogging again. :)

    I think you just described one of my worst fears about leaving the house. "People" are bad enough. Authority "people" are infinitely worse.

  3. Dani ~ it seems a good way to get "special treatment" at this particular stop is to drive an SUV or van, especially one with extremely tinted windows.

  4. the INS, or Immigration and Naturalization Service, has not existed since shortly after 9/11 when the Department of Homeland Security was created.

    Glad you enjoyed yourself Meg. Sonora Sage always goes out of her way to show friends that Tucson hospitality.


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