Lisa/Eve: Behind the Scenes

It's strange. I'm in a room full of someone else's childhood memories, but it's having a strangely powerful effect on me. Seeing Eve Christopolous' bedroom, which she moved out of just before I turned into her, reminds me of my own teenage years. Of course, everywhere I go nowadays reminds me of something from a long time ago.

Since the fall, I've been living as Eve. She's in her first year of college, on her own for the first time. For her it would be freedom, for me it's... well, I thought it would be confining, but the fact is, it's actually a lot more freeing than I thought. I was going to quit. I didn't see the point in staying at her school, paying money gaining knowledge I didn't need or want, while the girl who's supposed to be learning is miles away living another life.

She convinced me not to. If I dropped out, I could get her money back, but I'd still have to occupy myself for a year while I wait in line to get my body back and give this one up. All the classes she's taking this year are the prerequisites for her major, which she doesn't seem to think she's missing much (and to be honest, a lot of this stuff sounds like what I remember of high school science... this is a community college after all.) She wants to study anthropology, so I'm doing the grunt work for her reluctantly.

It's not really in my nature to half-ass it either, so I ed up getting stressed when I have a big midterm of final. This didn't exactly win me friends with my floormates. I guess that's the thing when you're a grown woman inn 18-year-old body. All these kids are experiencing their first freedom and want to goof off and mess around, (not to mention screw like bunnies!) but I've already been there, done that, bought the pregnancy test, so I just want to keep my head down.

Nobody likes feeling left out, though... I wish I related to these kids better, but I look at them and I still just see kids who don't know anything about the world, learning to walk. I end up playing mother, cleaning after them and asking them to keep it down after eleven. My roommate is a bit of a drama queen who broke up with her high school boyfriend just before she got here, cried and cried, then started hooking up with every random guy she could. Some of the other girls on the floor, thank God, have taken it more slowly.

Then there are the boys. A bunch of horny guys just trying to score. And I guess it's a little sick that after a while these kids start looking kinda good to me. Like, I know it's totally inappropriate, but I have to actively remember I'm old enough to be these boys'...... cool older cousin. And that a lot of the guys I was attracted to at that age were not the types of guys that would turn out to be... caring, sensitive spouses. And I can see right through them. So I ended up spending a lot of time alone.

So I'm thankful to be "home," where at least I'm not far from Anthony... "Charlotte." I have to say, my return for the Holidays is the first time I've seen "him" since I left for school, and she looks to be taking his new role frighteningly well. I mean, I'll admit comfort, sure, even a bit of enthusiasm for being younger and prettier, but to see that woman rock a three-inch heel and a sundress? I can't even look her in the eye! (And not just because, in those shoes, my eyes come up to her tits. Kidding, I'm not that much shorter.) Frankly, I understand Zane's reaction a bit more, even without finding out Clara was manic-depressive or whatever. I'm not saying he shouldn't come to terms with what's happened, but I totally understand not being cool with it.

Shaun's the only one I haven't seen. Work and marriage keeps him pretty busy, but we've been texting.

Anyway, if things go well, you probably won't hear too much from me. Still, Anth and I are planning a trip out to Scottsdale, Arizona, to see the real Charlotte and Eve in the new year, so I probably will report on that.

Thanks for listening.

By the way, Merry Christmas everyone! It's so strange being in the warm weather instead of freezing my butt off in New England! I miss it so much.

Zane/Clara/Whatever: My Big Choice

Since I couldn't quit being a girl, I was going to just quit this blog. I don't know why it's surprising to you people that I don't love having a pussy. You haven't heard from me in a while and a lot of that has just been sleeping, drinking, avoiding life, and occasionally working.

Here's three things that happened that explained why I'm back here, and why you might hear from me again.

I had a lunch meeting with Anthony. I felt pretty comfortable spilling my guts to her, looking like CeeCee. Talking to her reminds me of some of the best relationships I've had, before I fucked them up. I let it all out and she didn't tell me I was wrong for feeling like that, just that she understood and wished she could help me any way she could. I said that probably would mean laying off the model thing. I really just want to crawl under the sheets for the rest of the year, until I can go back to the inn.

And then something happened. Someone saw us. It was a friend of Anthony's... actually CeeCee's. He comes over, leans over her... and kisses her on the cheek. Like it was no big deal. And he just leans into it! And they make nice and he even kinda flirts with her. Fuck, every time a guy has talked to me like that I wanted to cut his balls off for looking at me, and he just laughs along, and when he's gone... and I notice him staring down at her cleavage... she just acts like it was no big deal. "Just part of business, being friendly," she says, but it looked like he wanted to fuck her.

I ask "You wouldn't, right?"

"No, of course not. It's just easier to get along with guys if they think there's a chance."

That fucking burned me. Like I didn't even know who I was talking to. And it was still bothering me by Thanksgiving, and Shaun was cool enough to invite me over to his place and meet his wife (she's okay looking) but I also had to deal with Clara and Doug's parents. I didn't really wanna talk to anyone, I just wanted to sit around watching football.

At the end of the night, I'm out having a smoke when "mom" comes out. I expected her to give me some bullshit about quitting, but I guess she just accepts that her daughter does that. But what she did do was ask about the way I've been behaving all night, and I kinda dodge answering, because it's none of her business. And then she asks me this question:

"Are you taking your pills?"

And I'm like, what is there some kind of girl-pill I should be taking? What's the deal here? I'm all confused, until I get home and I start doing some digging and I find out Clara's on fucking anti-depressants. Xanax or Zoloft or whatever. I've never taken pills in my life, besides painkillers. She's depressed?? She never fucking mentioned that to me!!

So I'm freaking out, like is this my problem now? Did I get this from her? Like, it's not my problem, is it? Then I started looking it up online and I realized I had all these symptoms, which I figured were just from, you know, being turned into a fucking girl.

No, it turns out Clara was actually clinically depressed and now I probably am too. I went and saw the doctor and got a prescription, but I can't fucking afford the pills on the money I make at the snack bar.

I talked to Anthony about it, and she said she would lend me some money, but I would need to pay it back, and the only real way to do that is to throw myself into this modeling thing. So I either do something I really don't wanna do, or I feel shitty all the time.

So I've got the pills, but I haven't done any more modeling jobs. I haven't even taken any of the pills. I just look at them and I think "Is it really gonna make everything okay? Am I gonna take this pill and suddenly everything's gonna be all right and I'll feel okay about being a girl? Am I still gonna be me? Or am I just gonna start calling myself Clara and go on being girly?" I don't know. It was like this is the end of me. I couldn't bring myself to take them.

Tonight I had to get a ride home from my day job, but Anthony wasn't available. I could barely convince myself to call one of my housemates, because I feel like those people all hate me and think I'm an asshole, and I didn't want anything to do with them and I didn't think they'd want to help me.

But no, this one girl Leslie did end up helping me and seeming pretty happy to do it. We even went out for drinks. I was so fucking uncomfortable sitting with this girl, I didn't know what to say or where to look, but she was good at getting guys to leave us alone and she just kept talking. I wasn't really listening, but it was about a guy. And even though I wanted to throw up and die, I thought maybe if I get these pills, I can be this girl's friend, I can make this work. I can't keep living like this. Tomorrow I'm going to take the pill. It can't be any worse than this.

Shaun/Doug - Family

I haven't posted in a while. Part of that's because my life, as Doug, is strangely ordinary. Okay, it's still a bit weird to look in the mirror and see a stranger, but I've gotten to know that stranger a bit. I know how to handle his business. I don't try to "act" like him, but so far nobody's looked at me and said "Hey, that's not something you would do." Even when that's true.

Work's been stressful too. My boss, the regional manager, put the screws to me to improve business for the holidays. A lot of my staff are teens and twenty-year-olds who don't take their minimum wage jobs that seriously. I'm trying to figure out how to motivate them. Admittedly, I've been more into work than I have the marriage.

I'm not really in this marriage. A lot of the time, when we fight, or it looks like we're going to fight, I just bite my tongue and roll over, where as Shaun I probably would have stuck it out. I hate having to suppress my feelings like that, but like I said, this isn't my relationship to mess up, like the last one was.

Sometimes it's unavoidable. A while back we were driving somewhere, and I was sticking to the On-Board Navigator instead of taking "her" route, even though "I" should have known my way around. And damn did I get an earful. And instead of "Shut up Goddamnit, I've never driven this way before, I'm not even your husband," I just had to shrug and say "I was trying it out."

Another reason I've been avoiding this blog is that I just didn't want to talk about it. One of the comments on it insinuated that I would enjoy "taking advantage" of Nia. Whether it's true or not, it was inevitably going to be an issue and I just didn't want to discuss it. I mean, it wasn't that long since my finacee broke my heart and I wasn't ready to take up with another woman, let alone one I barely knew. If I had wanted someone on the rebound, I might have picked up on the signals I was getting from Lisa back before we transformed.

Of course, Nia doesn't have this perspective. To her, I'm her man, I have certain responsibilities, and if I don't pay her attention she worries, asks why I'm not after her.

I was avoiding the issue. I knew it was on the table, that it was an inevitability, but I wanted her to bring it up, because I wanted to be sure I wasn't going to get in trouble for asking. I didn't want to seem like I wanted it to happen. In part, I didn't want it to happen. I would have been content to be one of those couples that spends every night side by side in bed, breathing softly in unison, until they drift off and roll over to "their sides."

Then one night I was lying in bed asleep when I heard her come in. She tends to work late, this was maybe 2 AM. She appeared in the bedroom doorway, leaning on the frame for support.

"Me and the girls went for drinks. Did you miss me?"

"Miss you?" I said, "I wasn't even aiming!" It was a dumb joke I had with my old fiancee, which Nia just shrugged off.

She crawled into the bed, carefully placing her hand on my leg as if to say "This is mine." She starts kissing me on the lips. I don't pull away - I know I can't - but I don't really kiss back either.

"How long has it been, Dougie?"

"Too long," I sigh, half-honestly.

"I don't wanna be one of those couples that never touches each other. Gimme some right now."

I had no choice but to obey. Doug's body was making me, and Nia's hand was placed in just the right place to be able to tell. "Hello," she said as she reached over my pajama waistband.

As reluctant as I had been, I liked this part of it. She's a very sexy woman, so it was easy to get over my hesitation. I haven't had a woman pay me this kind of attention in months, and the feeling that this was... new, maybe even not totally right, was kind of a thrill. While it was happening, I tricked myself into believing Nia knew me, and not Doug. But when it was over, I felt awful.

Well somehow I convinced myself to do it a few times since then. You know, taking one for the team.

The real hassle is the holidays. For Thanksgiving, I invited Zane over, because he's technically my "sister," and it would be nice to have someone on my side for my first meeting of both "our parents" and Nia's.

Admittedly, Zane didn't seem to enjoy himself much. He was very sulky, as you might expect. And that girl's face has a way of conveying sadness that makes you feel truly awful. It was really awkward to see "our mom" pry info out of "Clara" about her modeling career prospects. I was hoping I could do something to help his mood, but maybe dragging him out to a family gathering was not the right idea. It doesn't help that Nia's got a pretty low opinion of Clara, and asked me not to let "her" come to dinner. But that was one of the few instances where I stood my ground.

She respected it, but there was no lovemaking that night.

Anthony, "Charlotte" - A little of both.

After the reaction to his last post, Zane called me, on the verge of tears, which I found deeply unsettling. I'm not going to say he was always the most stable guy, but to have such an outward emotional reaction is pretty unlike him. Sleeping for days on end? That sounds like him, sure. But crying and ranting because someone on the internet hurt his feelings? I don't know.

Admittedly, our situations differ. I've been frustrated with him for not "getting with it," but I'm trying to be patient. I threw myself into Charlotte's work to cope, but unfortunately, her work primarily concerns Clara's modeling career. So my pressuring him probably hasn't helped. On our occasional lunch or coffee meetings, I've noticed she seems very blank. I also just noticed that I wrote "she" instead of "he," because I was thinking about her face, not my friend inside it. To me, "Zane-Clara" is a different person from the guy I've known since college.

I can sense, though, Zane is noticeably discomforted by the way she looks, and very paranoid about people looking at her. I've seen people glance at the both of us, but it just doesn't faze me the way it does her. Very self-conscious, which I imagine is a huge hindrance with me pushing her into this modeling thing. Given the risk to my friend and his sanity, I think I'm going to have to find her something else to do. I feel like I owe it to him to make this experience as good as it can be.

I do think it's not as bad as he imagines. I certainly don't feel traumatized by my new body or life. It requires a certain amount of upkeep and attention -- I'll let you imagine the details -- but I find the female lifestyle to be a bit of a fascinating project. It's remarkable what a woman has to do to succeed in this world, even (perhaps especially) in an industry dominated by women. When first arrived here, I was maybe not the warmest person, very reserved from having to adjust my lifestyle. I had to re-learn how to relate to people, to show personality, even "flirt" casually, without seeming overbearing, so that I wouldn't come off as inaccessible or "bitchy." It's so easy to pigeonhole a woman, even for other women, that navigating the minefield of office politics has been... difficult, yet perversely thrilling. I guess, if I had to explain the difference between my experience and Zane's it's that I'm the type of person who rises to a challenge, and he's the type who shrinks away. That's how we started in the same place, and I was a vice-president for a corporation, whereas he spent a lot of time scrubbing dishes and delivering packages.

It's hard to blame Zane for not wanting the burden of looking sexy, even in street clothes, let alone being dressed up like a doll for money. I think to some degree, he's feeling aware of how he objectified women in the past, and is having a hard time with this shift in perception now that he's the one with the breasts. Keep in mind, this is a man who believed women wore thongs, high heels and low-cut tops for their own enjoyment.

That said, we have one point of agreement. I'm not entirely comfortable with the idea of men being attracted to me. Admittedly, while I have certain appealing attributes, I'm not "model-calibre" the way Clara is. I'm a fair bit freer to disregard male attention. I wouldn't rule out some sort of relationship, as being a hermit is patently boring, but I'm still in love with the woman I was dating in my real life, whom I still hope to return to.

I look at it this way: real women have a lifetime of experience with these bodies, with their roles in society, and even then it's not considered normal just to go along and be what everyone says you should be. A lot of them have problems with their bodies and what they're told they can be. I'm not saying Zane's reaction is typical, or not exaggerated, but I completely understand his lack of desire to conform. That said, I still wish he would figure himself out a bit more. Maybe he will never "enjoy" his time as a woman, but there must be some way to help him tolerate it, reach a level of temporary acceptance as I have.

Greg/Alexis: Live and in Person

So yeah, been a long time but nothing big has happened. The holiday break gives me enough free time to sit down and write a bit. My coworkers got me into this game called Skyrim and it's just been addicting. The only really cool thing that happened was when Somebody Else Came through Burlington and I got to meet other blog writers in person for the first time.


I was really excited about Todd and co. visiting because it gave me some people to be "me" around. Not that my personality doesnt shine through every day, its just that when most people look at me they see "Alex" and I have humor them. Being around other Inn people they get to understand a major defining characteristic of who I am. Malinda can see through the curse but sometimes I think she'd sooner not think of me as a former man and think of me as a roommate.

Plus its always good to go out, especially If it gets Malinda out of the house. Although I had forgotten how long it takes girls like her to get ready. The show wasnt until 8 but she started getting ready at 4. Apparently even in a body that wasnt hers she had to be properly maintained and try on everything in Sharon's closet.

Around 7 she came down stairs asking "how do I look?" and she looked amazing. She was wearing skin tight white capri pants and a red halter top that showed her cleavage off nicely. She was wearing 3 inch heels that made her the same height as me. Her hair was curled at the end making it bounce when she walked and she was wearing makeup for the first time since she changed. Or at least noticeable makeup.

"Um...you look good" I said trying to hide the obvious attraction "But we are just going to a concert"

She shrugged "I wanna look good for your friends" she then looked me up and down "You arent wearing that, are you?" I was wearing jeans and a tshirt. "Yeah, were just going to a local bar and Alex doesnt have the kind of wardrobe Sharon has"

After some prodding I let her spend a little time playing dress up on me. Alexis' closet isnt exactly filled with girly clothes so Malinda borrowed from Sharon's things, most of which fit poorly. She's much more top heavy than me, clearly a D Cup, where i'm a low B cup. We're both size 8's but I'm more of a fit size 8 and she's curvier, especially in her butt. We finally agreed on a skirt that went down to the knees and a matching blouse. Nothing attention grabbing but I will admit I looked nicer.

Todd and Bry's band "Somebody Else" was playing at a small divish bar close to UofV. The crowd was mostly college students so Malinda and I were among the oldest people there. We got there just as the show was starting so we didnt meet them beforehand.

The band wasnt really my kind of music, but they were pretty good for an indie band. I forgot to look up who played what instrument so I was guessing which one was Todd and which one was Bryan.

During the concert college aged boys who had clearly had a few drinks kept coming up and hitting on Malinda, buying her drinks and stuff. She seemed to enjoy the attention even though she didnt take up on any of their offers to dance. Besides, the band doesnt exactly play dance music, so clearly they just wanted to get her drunk.

After the show we went "backstage" which was really the rear entrance to the bar. To see two guys finishing up loading up a van and an Pakistani girl telling them what to do, whom I presumed was Alia. " Bryan was helping Shelby load her drum kit into the van when we came up. Up close, she was kind of cute, but she gave us this kind of bitchy look that said 'Another friend?'

We only made small talk before Shelby and Alia took the van to a hotel. I had offered to let all 4 of them stay at our condo, but apparently Shelby and Bry had tensions and didnt need to be in close quarters together. That was kind of disappointing because I've talked to Alia online more than the other two. We first changed around the same time and wrote a good portion of the blog that first year. We coordinated a lot over posts and stuff and I was kind of looking forward to hanging out with her in person.

Although Todd and Bryan are extremely fun people in their own right. They are just as weird and funny in real life as they write on the blog. Look nothing like Id imagined though.

We went back to our condo and started drinking and sharing Inn stories, about strange things that happened to us as a result of looking like somebody else. Bry though we were just in the coolest situation, what with being an at least bi curious teenage girl when he was Ellie. He kept making puns and jokes that were kinda funny but some did make Malinda uncomfortable.

On the whole Malinda did pretty well. I could tell she was relaxing because her accent was coming out. Accents are one of the weirdest things about the Inn, sometimes you get one, sometimes you lose one, sometimes neither. Most of the time Malinda talks like she's from up here, but sometimes, usually when she drinks or gets really mad, she starts talking like a Texan. I think it was the fact that she didnt have to pretend and could just be herself because Todd and Bry knew who she was. She did finally call it a night when Bry pulled out a joint and offered to share.

Todd declined as well, apparently he's been trying to be a good boy for Alia or something. I hadnt done weed since I was a college freshman trying to expand my horizons but I figured what the heck, its not by body anyway and me and Bry went out to the patio and lit up.

Now, I dont have much expertise in the area, but I can safely say that Canadian weed is pretty strong because I got pretty baked, it might be that I have no tolerance I dont know if that applies to pot, like I said I'm not an expert.

Anyway, me and Bry are on the patio talking about all sorts of things like gay rights and the definition of the self and plenty of other things that sounded profound at the time when I mentioned that I worked at an Ice Cream company and that I had a ton of it in the freezer.

Excitedly, we both went and got huge bowls and wanted to watch cartoons but Todd had passed out on the couch in front of the TV. So we went to my "bedroom" which was really the guest room and sat on the end of the bed and turned on Adult Swim.

In between cartoons we started talking some more. About Ellie, and Malinda and how we were worried about them. What happened next I blame on the pot, at least on my part. There was a lull in the conversation and we leaned in close and kissed each other, for about 30 seconds. I'll take some of the blame but after the first few seconds it was all him. I felt basically nothing. No tingling like I had felt when I was Priya or Dee. I broke off with him and gave him a sheepish look.

"Yep, definitely gay"

He smiled "Yeah, I thought so. Figured I'd try for a Chasing Amy moment though"

To put the brief awkwardness behind us we decided it was bedtime and when we went downstairs we couldnt wake drunk Todd up enough to pull out the sleeper sofa, so I offered to let Bry platonically share my bed.

I changed into my pjs when he was in the bathroom getting ready for bed and he came out thankfully in more than just boxers.

"Sleep with you head at the foot of the bed, so its not weird and I dont want any boners poking me in the middle of the night" I joked

"Wont be a problem" he said with a grin "Took care of business just now"

I looked him half shocked half laughing "Tell me you didnt just jerk off in my bathroom"

He grinned in a way that was both disgusting and endearing at the same time before sticking his feet in the back of my head for the night.

The left in the morning to meet their current and former sort of ladyfriends and move on throughout the Northeast.

Since then it's been pretty boring. Mostly just work, tv, and videogames. All things considered it could be a lot worse though

-Greg

Zane (Clara): Like prison

A few years ago, I got caught driving drunk and had to spend a night in the tank. For a while I thought that would be the worst night of my life, but every night since Maine has really topped that.

I still hate this. I hate pretty much everything about my life right now, starting with the fact that I can't talk to anybody. I don't like going on the computer, so I've written a lot of my thoughts down. I was gonna just write them, but I don't feel like it.

People look at me funny. And by that I mean, they look at me. I work at the snack bar, guys stare at my tits while they talk to me. And I mean, I get it, I love tits, but... why do they have to be mine? I hate dressing in these stupid girl-clothes. I used to wear the same pair of boxers for like two weeks, but I feel totally wrong wearing the same panties twice in a row. I hate tight shorts and I hate dresses and skirts and I hate bras. I hate how, if I don't wear a bra, you can totally see my tits jiggle. I hate feeling my tits jiggle! I hate waking up with hair in my mouth. I hate being around men because I know what they're thinking, and I hate being around women because... I don't know, I think they're jealous of my looks, or they judge me because I'm "hot" even though I don't try and I don't want to be.

I just wanna give up and stay in my room until this all blows over. Honestly, that's what I do most of the time. I'm in hiding, or I'm in prison. I sit around in my room watching TV, trying to forget what I look like. I can't talk to anyone because they want to talk to the girl I look like, not me. The house where Clara lives is full of performing arts people, and they are all really annoying sometimes, like this bitch that practices her guitar at all goddamned hours of the morning.

I've been trying. Sometimes, really. They wanted me for one job, because Clara had dancing training, but I can't actually dance, so I had to take that off her resume. Anthony suggested I take lessons to try to fake my way through to her level, but I'm not into that. He's really freaking me out. When I do see him, he's really pushing the modeling thing, and I... I don't see or hear my friend when I talk to him I just see some lady, and I'm just like "why is this bitch all up in my face?" Plus, I'm starving, but I never want to eat. What the fuck.

I shouldn't be mad. The few modeling jobs I've done, I liked fine. I wouldn't mind doing more of it, it's just... I hate being looked at like that, so that makes it hard. It pays good. I shouldn't quit.

Sorry, this is all rambling. I don't even know.

Todd: Connecticut and New York, more questions than answers.

Admittedly, the exhausting business of touring and trying to work in all these Northeastern stops while, you know, playing enough shows to pay for our way home, as well as keeping the Inn business a secret from Shelby (who is starting to question why we have so many friends around here and why she can't meet any of them) has ground me down a fair bit. It helps that I genuinely love the people I'm with... after all, before Bry and Shelby started dating, we were pals from work and she helped me keep it together until Alia got back to her own body.

Before we could be sure we'd be able to swing through Connecticut, we had to be sure we could get a gig in the area, so we reached out and managed to snag one in Hartford. The story of how that came about is pretty boring, and from Shelby's eyes probably not worth it, since the pay was shit, but I'd regret it if I didn't pay a visit to my former home/jail.

I had a love-hate relationship with the place. Sometimes I get nostalgic for it, sometimes I remember how oppressively dull it was living there, being a mom, putting up with Hal, who was at times genuinely caring and at times an incredibly frustrating person to live with. I've heard of people transforming and meeting people in their new lives that they come to love. That was patently not the case for me. I tolerated him, and maybe sorta understood why someone would marry this person. He was a good husband and father, which is something I've never really seen in my life.

I met with Anne-Marie at a mall not far from the old neighborhood. The second I saw her my heart stopped. Here was this woman whose face I mostly knew from a mirror, a woman whose every bodily sensation I once felt. Behind her eyes was the mind of someone I knew as "Julia DiFrancesco."

She smiled excitedly, as I sat sipping on Orange Julius. I tried to keep my poker face, and tried furiously not to call up every memory I had of showering in her body.

"Oh my God, Todd!" she wrapped a friendly arm around me for a hug, "I just can't believe you're here!" She marveled at how cool it was that I was doing something with myself like touring in a band. I told her it wasn't that exciting, but I have to admit, having lived her life, she doesn't have a lot going on. I asked her about the kids.

Hayley is dating now, and completely absorbed with her cell phone. Holy shit, I realized, she'd be 15, the age her cousin was when Bryan occupied her body. Anne-Marie is trying to keep an open mind about it, but doesn't really approve of some of the boys she's had come by. Connor is getting a bit into sports. I chuckled, I thought I had raised him better. Anne-Marie rolled her eyes and said it was good way for him to bond with Hal. And Hal?

"Same as always," she sighed, "It always disappointed me he never seemed to noticed when we switched. Also, I don't know what you were doing to him, but after I got back, he was just insatiable!" She shuddered.

"Hey, what can I say? I was never any good at refusing someone who wanted to have sex with me." That's pretty much why Alia and I used to have so many problems.

"It's just so weird. Look at you! You don't look like you would be so into it."

"Hey, I didn't look like me, then, I looked like you, and you're a pretty fine-looking woman." She blushed. "I considered it a favour. I didn't so much as touch him for the first few months before his vasectomy, and you told me you guys had a healthy relationship."

"Yeah, healthy, not superhuman!"

I tugged at my collar. Okay, so I was a bit loose in her body, at least I was faithful. I honestly believe I could have cheated on Hal if I wanted to, and I nearly did. For me, that's the real superhuman feat.

I indulged her in some shopping, not that my advice was any help when she was looking at clothes. When I was here, I mainly wore whatever I pulled out of her closet, and the resulting freedom of a monthly clothes budget enabled Hal to renovate the basement among other things.

But we weren't really there to pick out skirts or talk about our shared past sex life. Something was seriously nagging at me. "You're aware that your niece, Ellie, has gone back to the Inn, and is somewhere in New York, correct?"

She was aware. "I didn't want to believe she'd actually go, but I couldn't stop her. What kills me is that she brought her father and that other girl with her."

"Why couldn't you stop her?"

"There was precedent. She'd already gone two years in a row. She must have convinced her dad somehow. I didn't find out until too late."

Anne-Marie was being pretty sketchy on the details, but I can believe she wouldn't know. My next question: "Why would she want to go back?"

She laughed a bit. "Why wouldn't she? She didn't live a terrible life when she was Kalli. I looked after her, but she was a lot more free than a teenage girl should be. She worked, she dated... she grew up in that body, Todd. It happened very quickly." I guess it makes sense. You can't put something like that away and forget about it. Even my time as Anne-Marie keeps coming back to me in unsuspecting ways. Imagine being forced back into high school. I wouldn't wish that on anyone.

I still had a hard time wrestling with that.

We didn't stick around long after the show. Alia and I met with the new Ellie, whom Alia had met before. Bryan met her on his own time. The week of Halloween, we did a few nights in New York, finally getting enough time to investigate the one shred of a lead we had regarding Ellie's whereabouts. That brings us to a little apartment building in Brooklyn, the place of a guy named Ernie Tomasi.

Bry and I found our way into the building with a pizza delivery guy, and went up to Tomasi's place and knocked on the door.

"I can't believe we're doing this!" Bry said with almost perverse glee.

"Calm down," I said, "Although yes, it's completely awesome."

The door opened and a smallish, middle-aged gentlemen peered out and eyed us through the still-chained door.

"Can I help you?"

"Ahem, maybe. Does the name Elyssa McClay mean anything to you?"

He glared at us a bit longer, then closed the door to undo the chain. Reluctantly, he let us in. He had us sit on the couch while walking around the room. I noticed a slight limp.

"What brings you here? What do you know?" he asked.

"We're trying to figure things out," I admitted. "Someone we know wound up in your old body. She's taking good care of it."

"Well that's reassuring," he said quietly, gruffly.

"The three bodies are in good hands, at least until next summer."

"Uh huh," he said coldly.

I went on, "I mean, we're not here to force you to... to go back, but..."

I couldn't finish. Eventually he piped up, "Why would I go back?"

Bry jumped in, "Well look, I mean, I know it sucks, but you've got to be where you belong. This isn't right, Ell, and what you did to your father and Emily, that's not right either."

"What I did to..." he cleared his throat. "I'm sorry, who do you think you're talking to, here?"

Bryan and I looked at each other. "Ellie? Ellie McClay?"

He snorted. "Huh. Look, kid. My name is Ernie Tomasi. The year I spent as Elyssa McClay was the worst time of my life, and that includes losing this." He removed his shoe to reveal a prosthetic foot - the reason for his limp. "You can't seriously think I'm interested in going back. I was happy to give that little girl her life back, and get back to mine."

Bry and I were stymied. Bry finally asked, "Wait... what year did you spend as Ellie?"

"Last year. I went up to Maine with my wife, we wake up one morning in the bodies of these kids, Ellie an' Emily. Spent a whole year living in Connecticut with that fuckin' family. I mean, nice people and all, but goddamn did I hate it."

"You were Ellie for a year?" Bryan gasped, "I talked to her on Facebook!"

"Facebook?" he said, "I don't know anything about that shit. Hell, if you talked to anyone, you probably talked to her. I'm not much of a computer guy."

"And what about Ellie's dad?"

"He didn't say much about who he was," Ernie said, "but whoever he really was knew Ellie's family and had been to the Inn before. I always just called him dad."

My skin got hot. "Donna." Goddamnit. "Donna's involved in this."

That pissed me off. I know she was a wack-job who wanted me to stay as Anne-Marie, and then talked me into sleeping with her (okay, I'm weak, sue me, my girlfriend was a guy at the time!) but I really never thought she'd be so nuts as to go back to the Inn. The thought of tracking her down and talking to her caused me a lot of aggravation, so I shook Ernie's hand and walked out.

Neither Bry nor I could make sense of how Donna played into this, how people ended up where they have, or where Ellie, Emily, and Ellie's dad are now. I'm tired of playing detective, I just wanna play guitar.

-Todd

"Ellie": Spilling my guts

The first time I ever transformed, I was a pretty vain, underdeveloped 14-year-old girl who woke up in the body of a nearly full-grown woman. There are a lot of physical and mental changes that you're supposed to go through in the years between 14 and 19, and I skipped them all. At 14, you wear a bra and you get a period, and you think you're a real woman, but you're still a kid. Once I got over the shock, I treated my body like an anatomically-correct Barbie doll, making myself look hot and reveling in male attention. It wasn't what you'd call... healthy behavior, and it attracted a lot of negative energy into my life.

It was almost a relief, the second time around, to find myself as a guy. I thought it would be "easier," and in a way it was, possibly because it was my second turn and I was mature and capable. Then I found out that as a guy, I could still get hurt, still feel lonely, still get taken advantage of... and suddenly standing to pee didn't seem as glorious.

And then this summer I went back to the inn with my girlfriend, and we both woke up as girls, teenage girls again. Ellie and Emily. As a former guy I feel so strange leering at my own body in the mirror, trying to remember that this used to be normal. I feel cut off from something -- my dick, for one. My girlfriend, for another.

Since this was her first go-around, it was hard to explain to her what had happened and why I wasn't freaking out too much about suddenly being a girl. I didn't come all out with it right away. I told her to read the letter and I acted like I was scared too, which was easy because I kinda was. Feeling so small, so girly, made me think "Oh God, this is really happening to me again." and this time, I didn't want to play dress-up, I didn't want anybody looking at me.

"So what are you telling me?" She said between hyperventilation, "We have to pretend to be these people? That... that you turned into a girl?"

I wanted to lie. I wanted to say "Yeah, this is terrible, I can't believe it." It would've been easy. But instead, I bit my lip and winced as I said "The truth is... I've been here before. I used to be someone else. Emily," I didn't call her Emily then but she's Emily now, "I was a woman before. It was an accident that I ever ended up in that body. I'm sorry, I'm so sorry for lying."

This was followed by an even more exaggerated version of your average post-transformation freak-out. Screaming and cursing. "How dare you lie to me, how dare you say I wouldn't believe you," crying. She was mad, and she needed someone to be mad at. "I look at you," she said "And I don't know who I'm talking to."

"I'm sorry," I said. "I don't even know who I am."

She asked me to leave her a while, before we drove back to Connecticut. I caught up with Melanie... now my dad. I asked how she, he was holding up.

"This is blowing my mind," he said, "I did not think this was gonna happen. I guess I should've thought it was possible, but... wow." Like me, she's pretty jaded by the whole experience by now.

It was a long, long, long awkward car ride back to Connecticut. Her anger did fade, she wasn't giving me the silent treatment, she just needed to think it all over. Yes, she was mad at me for bringing her to the Inn, but she felt worse when she remembered I was reluctant to let her come, that she insisted. I didn't want her to feel guilty, but she felt it herself.

Before school started, I asked her where we stood. She almost laughed as she said "I don't know. I look at you and I don't really see you, the guy I loved."

That brought a weird smile to my face. "You loved me?"

"I thought I did," she smiled back, "I don't know. I was definitely falling for you. But I see you, you're not fighting the change, you're not trying to act like a guy, like the guy I knew, you're just... this girl sitting next to me. And I know you're still in there, but I don't know if I can feel anything toward you this way."

"I understand," I told her. But inside, I was going cold, and when I got home that night I cried. I let myself cry, the way I never wanted to when I was a guy, because it wasn't fair. This body is no more of a lie than the one she loved, and even if the man she loved was fake, it was still really me, and I don't feel different. I don't. I get that I have to be "this person," and in the past I was always for it, but this time I'm not sure how I feel.

After a couple of really lonely weeks at high school, she broke the ice. "This is so weird, isn't it? Being in high school again? Ugh, I hate it."

"I never went to high school," I admitted, "Guess I never mentioned that... I'm sorry."

"Listen, I know things can never go back to the way they were, but... I was hoping we could be friends again. Or... really, for the first time. I mean, I was maybe overreacting when I said you weren't the person I thought you were. I know you were only trying to be... yourself, I guess."

She went on, "All this month, people have been making my schedule for me and telling me to pay attention in class and do my homework, and I always want to tell them, Why should I, I'm not really Emily... but I can't, can I? They won't believe me."

"Nope," I said.

"And I realized that must have been how you felt the whole time you were with me. I feel stupid now, knowing what I know, but... there was no way you could have told me, and I couldn't have ever guessed."

It probably felt to her like a huge gesture, to forgive me or get over it or whatever she was doing... and I accepted it, but that didn't mean there were no hard feelings. We're okay now... we're friends, but... it really isn't like it was before.

Zane in Clara's Body: Checking in

It's not easy to forget about being in a girl's body. It's a little easier to forget about writing about it, since the last thing I want to do after standing around all day looking like this is sit back and write about it. Then sometimes I think I should say something because it'll help, but then I get tired of trying.

I guess it doesn't totally suck. I mean it's just a body. Two legs, two eyes. Not big or strong. Can't pee standing up. Hard to get comfy lying around with tits flopping up. I don't hate them I guess. Mostly they just hang there looking nice but being useless. I'd like 'em a lot better on someone else.

I'm supposed to be a model. Clara's supposed to be starting a career. But that's not me, I don't know anything about being beautiful and I don't really want to try. But Anthony keeps telling me to work on it. Clara has a portfolio full of her photos of herself. Some of them are really arty, some of them are just hot. She looks like a totally different person from the girl I see in the mirror when I wake up. I can see a lot of work goes into making even a hot chick like Clara into one of those girls in the photos. It's an attitude, and I don't have it.

I've been to two photoshoots in the last month. One, they wanted me to wear a bikini, which I guess is whatever, okay, it's like sitting around in my underwear anyway, and what do I care if people see this body half-dressed? But they sent me away because my tan was uneven, since I've been in the sun a lot for my other job. I thought they had computers for that shit. Also, I forgot to shave my legs and stuff. Whatever.

The other one I actually got to stay fully dressed, and just lean on the hood of a car. The photographer kept getting mad at me and telling me to "loosen up" and "have more fun." I'm trying to look and act like those photos but I guess something's still missing. They didn't end up using my photos, so I got paid like fifty bucks and shoved out the door. Anthony is not happy with my work, but what can I say? I never learned how to model. Sue me.

The rest of the time I'm working at the stupid snack bar on the beach. God, what is that place. It's still blazing hot and it's almost Halloween. Hot chicks traipsing around in bikinis and yet still guys come over to talk to me. One thing I'm getting better at is showing them I'm not interested without having to yell at them to fuck off. Still it's hard not to attract them. The shirt they make me wear is low cut, and the shorts are so high they ride up my buttcrack. Real attractive. I don't know why real girls like dressing this way.

It's fucked up, though. I'm sleepy all the time. A couple weeks ago I yelled at a guy to stop staring at my tits and fuck off, and my manager said any more outbursts like that and I'd be fired, which sucks because I need this job. I had to borrow money from Anthony to make Clara's rent this month. Oh, man remind me to tell you about some of the people I'm living with sometime. Bunch of fucking characters they are. Whatever, I don't wanna talk about it right now.

Alia: Here we stand

I think, based on what they've been through, Todd and Bryan will always be pals. Like brothers. They went through the whole Inn thing together. They have disagreements and misunderstandings but there will always be that bond between them. I think that's why their drive, their communication as a band is so much better now than it was in the past.

I saw Bryan pulling away from Shelby early on the tour. I don't know what happened, whether it goes back to the whole double-life thing, or if it's just the way people decide to break up. I probably don't need to. But of late, Todd and I have been responsible for keeping the two of them separate.

This was a bit of a problem because ever since I met her, Shelby has been suspicious of me. I guess it makes sense. She sees "me" as Bryan's ex, currently with Todd, whereas in reality I never have dated Bryan (and never would, sorry B) and have always been faithful to Todd, at least since getting my body back. But there's no way to explain this, so I'm Yoko. Except Yoko didn't fuck all the Beatles. So I don't know who that makes me.

It's awkward as hell being around them. They don't talk, they don't seem comfortable. So when it happened, I was the only girl around and she needed to vent. We went out for drinks, she opened up and I shared some too. She said that the fact that I could still be friends with him made her think she could keep going with the band, and I hope she does because she's a good fit. She's a good fit in every way but one, and that's the one thing that makes her different for all of us. It's why we all feel like we're putting on a front when we're around her, it's why Todd had to keep her entertained the day we hung out with Tori, and it's why she was with me after the show when we played Burlington.

I met Greg in passing. He even managed to get Malinda out to the show, and they both seemed to enjoy the bands. But I couldn't stay for the real meet-and-greet, I had to whist Shelby off to the hotel, where our nightly girl talk commenced. Shelby, trying in vain to speculate what had come between her and Bryan, and me trying to keep it all a secret (not that she'd believe me.)

The next morning when I met up with the guys, Todd gave me the lowdown. They hung around, sharing war stories and guy talk. Malinda was a bit quiet at first but loosened up after a few drinks. By Todd's account, Greg was a nice person, but it was the same way he thought of Darren/Jamie, when they met years ago: If they were both guys and never been to the Inn, they probably wouldn't have been buddies. Bryan had little to add to the situation.

Between Philly and Vermont was New York City. I love that place, four days was barely enough time spent there. The guys played a few sparsely-attended shows and spent a couple of days chasing down leads based on vague information from the real Ellie's letter. I can tell Bryan is really unnerved by that situation. I don't blame him, it bothers me too. How could anyone knowingly go to the Inn, and bring people along with them? Were they tricked? Coerced? Forced? It troubles me how little Ellie said about her current location. Either she wants to disappear, or someone wants to make her disappear. Troubling.

We pursued a few leads in our spare time, but to little effect. Luckily, we'll get our chance again. Apparently the venue managers in Manhattan liked their sound and asked them to come back for Halloween, and since we don't have any gigs booked past this weekend we could probably stretch some dollars and spend enough time down there to really get to the bottom of this.

Right now, we're in Massachusetts, playing Boston this Friday, and then spending some time in Todd and Bryan's old stomping grounds... Connecticut. (Shudder.) At least I'll get to check in on Sam. I mean Max. I mean Ellie. Oy, that girl.

-Alia

Tori: Hot and cold.

It's so strange that my life is continually working toward this phase where nothing about it is so strange to me that I need to blog about it. It's like when you're a teenager and you have all these new thoughts and feelings and you want to share them, but you grow out of it. I had to grow out of it twice. And now my life is headed on a track toward normal. Which is awesome.

I've been seeing Alex... which is weird to write since I've been reading about "Alex"-Greg... Alexis. Whatever he's calling himself lately. But of course my Alex is my Alex.

My relationship with him is the sort of thing I was hoping to have with Buddy. He's not as much of a geek as Buddy, but he has his moments and is very open. After some resistance, I got him to watch the sixth series of Doctor Who with me, and he loved it. Next we're gonna marathon Fringe. Also, while Buddy seemed uncomfortable with how tomboyish I can be, Alex says he really likes it, which is good because I'm still not the girliest girl in the world. He even laughed when he found out that on geek forums I tend to set my profile as "Male" just to avoid the usual suckiness of being a girl on the internet (getting accused of being an attention whore, which happens a lot.)

But a relationship can't just be lying together on a couch watching sci-fi, though. I have needs, guys. Womanly needs. Alex was taking it slow, though. I mean, I never had sex as a guy, but I know I always wanted to, especially when presented with a girl who looks like I do... or at least as good as I think I do. It started to bother me. The attraction was definitely there. I felt it. Through his pants, I mean.

But for whatever reason we were having trouble getting to that "rip your clothes off" level of attraction and I got worried. But how do you bring that up? "Why don't you wanna screw me?" I guess I could've made more of an initiative to start it, but I don't have any experience with that. Buddy was shy, but he was good to go. Alex was taking this "playing it cool" thing too far. We'd make out on the couch and I kept wanting to say "Let's take it to the bedroom" but the words never came out.

I started to worry that I really wasn't ready, even though it's been months since the break-up.

Then one day things got effed up at work. We have had some staff turnaround lately, and one of the new guys fucked up one of our databases and caused a lot of headaches for me, and by the end of the day all I wanted to do was curl up into a ball and drink. So of course that was a night he was due to come over. I was already half in the bag when he came by, so when he came by I was really ready to deal with it... because I was naked in bed with half a bottle of wine. I was pretty much wearing a sign saying "JUST DO IT ALREADY!"

"Well?" I asked, after a few seconds of silence, "Are you ready or not?"

Quicker than you can say "SHAZAM!" he was naked and in bed with me and we started to fool around. It felt so good to finally let it happen. I remember my first time, I was so guarded and awkward and I just wanted it over with so I could say I did it... so I could say I did something. Since then I've really felt like it's an important part of my life. It's true that women think about sex differently than men, but it's not true they don't think of it at all.

So we're getting warmed up and I climb on top of him, ready to get the show on the road, when... stupid drunk me, I lose my balance and all off my own bed and injure my coccyx.

God, I swear this stuff only happens to me.

So, the idea of intimate activity was off the table for a few more weeks. And that was when Todd's band came to town. I'm not really a music lover and it was hard to drag Alex out on the premise that I knew these guys without giving the exact details how, but I don't know when or if any Inn people will be in Philadelphia soon.

I've only met them a few times before, except Alia, whom I barely know in her real body. Afterwards we went for a few drinks. Alex opted to leave early since he was going hiking with his dad the next day (which was news to me.) Apparently Bryan's broke up with the drummer a while earlier, so Todd went off with her since they're friends too. (That must get awkward.) That left me with Bryan and Alia, and Bryan wasn't in much of a mood to talk, so Alia and I caught up on girl talk. She's really proud of me for making strides in taking control in my life, and seemed to approve of Alex based on the brief moment they met. She wished she could have looked out for me more when we were both in Philly, but she did have her own "life" to worry about.

The next day, Alex and I had a bit of an argument, since he didn't like that I didn't go with him. I told him I never see these people and they're my friends (maybe exaggerating but I had to win the argument.) He's normally so easygoing, so this whole thing was weird... I think maybe he caught Bryan glancing at my chest a bit.

I told him he never gets jealous of anyone at work attempting to flirt with me. He said that's different since he knows those people and they know there's no chance. "But suddenly these dudes come out of nowhere, it's like there's this whole slice of your life I don't even know anything about and you won't tell me. I don't like the idea of some mystery from your past suddenly getting kicked up."

I take a breath and answer back, "Well, guess what. Guys look. I know it. I've dealt with that a long time. But 99% of the time they either don't try or they wouldn't get anywhere if they did. Hey, you silly bastard, don't forget you have first claim on these tits and everything else attached to them. You wanna look? I'll give you the tour." And I whipped off my shirt and unfastened my bra.

I basically argued myself into finally having sex with him. And oh, man was it hot.

So... this presents a problem. We've finally had sex after MONTHS of dating or kinda-dating, but it was after a fight without any real resolution. Am I gonna have to get angry at him every time I need some loving? Or are we going to be able to get over ourselves and just do it like normal people?

Man, I've never been a normal person, even before I was this person.

Greg/Alexis: Making progress.

I feel bad for kind of falling off the face of the earth on this blog but trust me I wasnt. Its just when something of the magnitude of what heppened to Max/Ellie occurs, it kind of puts the blog's purpose in perspective. Suddenly your posts about bike riding and playing tennis seem insignificant compared to that.

Anyway nothing major happened to me thank goodness. Life still sucks without a car but it's still warm enough to be bike weather, and things have gotten considerabley better around the house the last few days.

It all started around Saturday. The past few weeks I've been spending my Saturdays with playing Tennis and hanging out with afterwards. Just non stereotypical girl stuff. I think she senses theres a rift between me and Sharon and is being a good friend to allow me to let off steam when I got annoyed with my "wife". If only she knew the full story.

Anyway, Annabelle had to go into work on Saturday and I didnt get the text till I was halfway to the club on my bike. I turned around and figured I'd use that day for relaxing and watching football.

Malinda had gotten used to me being out all Saturdays because she was surprised to see me when I got home. I took one look at her and laughed.

Malinda had her hair braided into pigtails and had glitter makeup all over her face. She was wearing a pair of blue gym shorts rolled up so that they were boxer length. Knee length blue tube socks. A pair of white Keds and a white Tshirt with the sleeves rolled up and "Go Mustangs" painted on it. I busted out laughing.

"You look ridiculous"

"Why arent you plaing tennis" she asked defensively

"Annabelle had to work. I'm staying in and watching football, what's all this"

"I'm staying in and watching football" she said

This was confusing to me because Malinda is very much the girliest girl you can think of "You like football? I asked

"I'm from Texas, I have to" she said sticking her tongue out at me.

Turns out where she was originally from Friday Night Lights was more of a documentary, and she was even a cheerleader in High School before going to what used to be a major football school before heavy NCAA sanctions.

So we sat there, for something like 10 hours. Just watching football, teasing each other, drinking beer. A very male bonding moment, except you know, with female bodies.

The beer seemed to loosen up and we started talking in depth about how she was taking all of this. Her biggest complaint is not being her anymore. This is a woman who really liked where her life was and got thrown into something she would never think of. Compound that with the fact that she's cooped up in the house all day with her thoughts and she winds up getting bitchy.

"Every time I look in the mirror I'm reminded that I dont get to be me. That i've got to pretend, to lie." She said sadly

"But you are you," I said firmly "Just in a different shape. I mean look at me, I dont think I look anything like I thought I would 5 years ago, but what can I do. I'm still me on the inside, even though I'll never look like it again"

She smiled sweetly and gave me a look of pity "I'm sorry for what happened to you. At least I'll be able to get my life back"

She gave me a friendly hug and we went back to watching football. She's clearly adjusting better because the last few days shes treating me more like a friend and roommate than a captor. Which is good, because in a few days we're going to have company and I need her in a good mood.

Todd's band is playing a gig at one of the smaller clubs in town. I think they just picked all the college towns in the Norhteast and tried to get gigs there, because Burlington is pretty out of the way. Anyway, I always wanted to meet another blogger here and offered to let him and Bry and Alia crash here. Malinda seems receptive to the idea, despite the fact that she'll have to play Sharon for their bandmate who isnt from the Inn. She's also going to go to the concert, which is a big step forward for her.

Look forward to posting about that.

-Greg

"Ellie": Hard to Explain

So like I said, I'm Ellie now. I'm a senior in high school, although if I get this body back to Ellie next summer she'll still have to make up a few credits, I've been told. Extra years in high school. Ugh. If this is what High School's always been like, I don't regret missing it.

I guess, though, before I get into any of that, I should explain more about how I got here, and who's with me. This is a long story. I'm in a creative writing class right now and we're encouraged to keep journals and do exercises. Since I can't be honest with them, I'll be honest with you.

I had made the deal with Fletcher/Beatrice at the beginning of the year, and I did always intend to honor it. I never gave a second thought about it. It felt like the right thing to do to ease my guilt about getting Roger into his predicament, spending a year as Beatrice's young daughter. I had promised to do everything in my power to leave him with my "Max" body.

Of course, that assumes Max's body was mine to give. A lot of people wind up in bodies they can't get out of; it's sad but it's true, and when I investigated I found this had happened to the original Max, Tanya and Melanie, in a way. Max and Tanya had wound up as parents to a newborn: Melanie. And there was no telling what effect bringing a newborn to the inn a second time might have. I told them there was a case in the blog where someone was turned into an infant and grew up comfortable but with memories of her past lives, and they seemed comfortable with that. I don't know if they ever reached out to the original parents, but in any case it always seems like there's a break in every chain somewhere.

I just have to throw up my hands at this point or else the guilt would come back. Roger's fate is the only one I'm responsible for, I can't fix everything now can I?

It was Fletcher who arranged my return to the Inn. He set me up with a reservation for three, assuming the girls -- the ones I was calling Melanie and Tanya -- would both want to come, and to complement her party of three.

Neither of the girls actually seemed that interested. If neither of them had to give up their new lives, why should they? And I didn't blame them. Melanie, formerly a guy, was really accepting of her new role, and Tanya was starting to soften too. I thought at least Melanie would appreciate the opportunity to get back to a form resembling her original, but they'd both given up contact with their original selves. To them, it was a matter of being "healthy and safe" here rather than risking it out there. This caused a rift between them and me. I even called Beatrice and told her I couldn't get them to come, and had to give up two of the reservations. She wouldn't allow it. My job was to fill two empty beds by any means I could. I said I wasn't intending to drag two innocent people to Maine when they had no idea what was going to happen to them. Beatrice told me it wasn't her problem. My case got more desperate.

The conflict between me and the girls got to the point where I had to move out of their house, as we were all living together with their "mom." It wasn't that there were hostilities or fights, I just harbored resentments and felt uncomfortable continuing to live there. By this point I had a few options.

See, after I made the deal, all I wanted was to keep my head down and my nose clean and get through to the end of Summer, when the reservation was set for. But life doesn't work that way and you meet people and make connections sometimes even when you don't.

There was a girl waitressing at the restaurant where I was washing dishes, and I guess she got really interested in me somehow. I had no conception of how I came across to her, but I guess because she's quite attractive, with blonde hair and a busty figure, she's used to guys being intimidated by her. I certainly couldn't help noticing her in the wake of my fling with Beatrice, when my sex drive really started to crank into overdrive. But I really, really didn't want to pursue. But somehow, the more I avoided her, the pushier she got until I finally just decided to let her into my life. We started dating not long after I posted about the deal, March.

So when I had to leave Tanya and Melanie's house, I had someone willing to put me up.

It was weird. I haven't written much about my past lives, but a lot of stuff that happened during my time as Sam made me very guarded about relationships. But I was determined at least to treat her with respect and kindness, and appreciate all she was doing for me. And I really, really cared about her. Hell, despite the fact that I had this secret hanging over my head, this deadline, I maybe even loved her.

Over the summer, things got worse for all of us. Eventually, my secrecy and sketchiness caused fight after fight, ending it after a few months. But during this time, something worse happened: Tanya was attacked.

I guess her "new life" wasn't as clean a slate as she thought. Some guys representing an old boyfriend with a drug problem and connections -- or maybe someone who was owed, I don't know -- found her behind a bar and cornered her. She escaped with a black eye and stitches, but the message was clear: this body, like any body, came with baggage. She needed out. I was happy to hear that, but obviously upset about the circumstances. We tried to convince Melanie, to no success.

Then one day, my girl came back home to me and said, "So, I ran into your friend Tanya today... I was wondering about this Maine trip you guys are planning."

I just about hard a freaking heart attack right there.

I mean, I don't know how I thought I could keep this whole thing a secret. I guess I figured we were bound to break up before the trip, and somehow the Inn power would work everything out without a third on our reservation. I'd break her heart, maybe leave her sad for a while (she's a good girl, she'd rebound fine I think) and never have to explain what really came between us. But before any of that happened, this did.

"Maine? Uh, I don't know what you're talking about."

I tried to play dumb but it was no use. She said she couldn't believe I was going about this all in secret, and I had to make like this was meant to be a surprise for the both of us, and I didn't tell her sooner because it wasn't confirmed. It was by sheer coincidence her birthday was in August. As to why Tanya was coming, well, "she's my friend and she's been through some trauma, you must understand, and she could use a vacation but she'll leave us alone."

Amazingly -- and much to my dismay -- that line of reasoning worked, and my girlfriend got her heart set on a vacation to Maine at the end of summer. I searched desperately for any way out but all the walls were closing in. I couldn't go back on my word, I couldn't let my girl down, I couldn't let Tanya stay in this dangerous lifestyle. I had to hope Fletcher and his friends were more able to handle it.

And that's how, on a humid August night, I found myself sprawled out in the darkness feeling my long, lean, lanky, rough-haired male body contract and curve and mold into a young, fresh-faced girl named Ellie McClay. And as interested as I was in my own strange transformation, I kept looking over to the figure in the darkness, the girl in my bed, who just rolled over and kept sleeping as her curvy, sexy self performed a change of its own.

And I wondered, what "magic" would the Inn perform tonight... would she be sister, brother, parent... lover? A man of age and distinction, a girl of twelve?

She became a teenage girl like me. Emily. A friend of Ellie's she'd dragged into this mess. The change must've been so subtle it didn't even wake her up, even as the muffled shock of others vibrated through the walls. There was a soft knock at the door. I opened it to find the face of a man. The girl I knew as Tanya was now my father, Mr. McClay.

It was a while before we learned that Ellie had been here before, that her body once belonged to Bryan, a friend of Alia's. That raised more questions: Why had she come back? And it couldn't just be a coincidence that we're in these bodies. Fletcher had only told us we'd be all right, but he claimed to have no knowledge of where we'd end up. I don't believe him, but I don't know what to think.

But none of this was on our mind at the time. I just kept running over the question I had had in mind ever since "Emily" decided we were definitely going to Maine together: what the hell was I going to tell her about me?

Todd: There's no road that ain't a hard road to travel alone...

Rock and roll is tough.

It turns out it's not very easy to book a rock and roll tour. Especially when you're the support and the headlining band gets sick and has to postpone when you're already out on the road. We spent a lot of August just waiting around in Toronto for stuff to happen.

Then, well, stuff happened.

We finished our Ohio swing in Mid-September. Now, Bryan's been my friend for years and years, but there's a difference between friend-Bryan and band-Bryan. When we're just jamming, gigging around our local haunts, there isn't really. Bry's a fun guy, doesn't worry to much when things go wrong, enjoys the fun things about being in a band, no worries. Tour Bryan? That's tough shit. I'm used to it, I've seen that side of him before. It's funny: He was so laid back and relaxed about becoming a teenage girl back in the day (we'll get to that in a bit) but stick him in a van and put him on the road fora month? Shit gets crazy.

Sometime after Ohio -- Cleveland in particular -- he and Shelby broke up. I was always a bit leery about having his girlfriend in the band, but at the time I thought they could handle it. They couldn't. Objectively, I think they're both to blame, with Shelby not being able to separate bandmate-Bryan from boyfriend-Bryan, and Bryan not recognizing how to keep things from getting to heavy.

I suspect, however, something happened in Cleveland, which was right before the big fallout. Cleveland is roughly in the neighbourhood of Bry's former girlfriend, Crystal, but if that had anything to do with it, he didn't tell me. It's too much of a coincidence to ignore, but there would be plenty fuel to that break-up without thinking about Crystal. But I can't shake the feeling there's more to this than meets the eye.

Then at some point we got the word from Max -- who had some contact with Alia (who is along for this Magical Misery Tour as our road manager, bless her.) -- about her new body. The very same body Bryan occupied only a couple of years ago. Again, we come back to not ignoring coincidences. I mean, it's strange, isn't it? If it was Fletcher's doing, how did he get Ellie to Maine? If not, what does that mean? I'm not detective, I wasn't even that much of a journalist, but I intend to do a little poking around while I'm down here.

This coming weekend, we'll be finishing up in Pennsylvania and NJ, stopping in on Tori and seeing how she's doing, and then all next week we'll be doing some gigs in New York City. We'll be spending a lot of time down there and as luck has it, the only contact info we could find for Ellie puts her new body there.

After that, it's New England: Connecticut, Vermont and Massachusetts before we circle back over the border and head for home. That should take us through October. It's kind of exciting to live this double life as a rock star and sort of a wannabe private eye.

So that's what I've been up to.

-Todd

Not Max: It never ends

I have no life.

I disappeared from this blog for a long time. I wanted to make blogging my thing, but I felt really good just plugging into my life as Max it would be weeks between times where I'd think "I could blog about this" or update you on my life... It was so great just to feel like a normal guy. I didn't want it to end.

I'm a person who lives by his/her word. I promised Fletcher... Beatrice... I'd give Roger Max's body. It was my fault he was trapped in a little girl's body, and I didn't want that little girl to have to grow up like I did, and I definitely didn't want Roger to think his only future was as Fletcher's daughter. I wanted forgiveness.

I followed through with my promise, though. I went back to Maine. Fletcher brought Roger to Maine after that. By now they should be settled in in New Brunswick, and I'm here, crying my eyes out. Once a girl, always a girl. I used to be tougher, I swear, even when I was Sam.

So you want to know... where is here? Who am I? I mean, maybe none of you will ever know who I really am... maybe even I don't know by now... but as for who I look like, who I have to be...

I wish I could tell you I couldn't sleep a wink in Maine. I wish I could tell you that knowing what was about to happen to me made me restless and anxious but the truth is, unlike last time, I slept like a lamb, even though I shouldn't have. After a day of activities, I would crawl into bed nice and early and just drift off. And I'd wake up in the morning disappointed I was still Max, and happy I was still Max, and wondering if I had it all wrong, if I was delusional and no change was going to happen this time.

It did. It was a stormy night, although it was before Irene hit. There are telltale signs, which night it's going to happen. You do an informal headcount of occupied room. Your skin feels irritated in a way that could be sunburn but isn't. I was asleep and then I felt something pushing against me. It was happening. I sat up and looked at my hands. I made it across the room to turn the lights on, then felt my legs buckle beneath me... I had gone from young to mature, from female to male, and now... I was going back.

Everything rippled through me. I wasn't a huge guy, but all the mass rearranging itself, thinning out, congregating in new places... forming little folds of flesh on my chest that grew slowly into breasts... it was unpleasant, but if I'm being totally honest, the feeling of becoming a man was much worse and left me a lot sorer.

In the darkness, I pulled myself back up onto the bed. I slipped back under the covers and curled up until it finally stopped.

The next day I crawled back out of bed and examined my new self. She's pretty and thin, but I was suddenly crushed by the weight of how wrong this all felt. To be a girl again. To be young again. She's only 17, she's in school, she lives at home... I've seen and done and been so much, I didn't feel like I could be this person.

I combed over her clothes, mostly modest and mostly feminine. I grimaced at the thought of squeezing myself into a bra or a pair of panties again, after a year of boxer shorts, but you take what you're given. There are upsides. At least I'm not unfamiliar with any of it. I just feel so weak and helpless in all the trappings of girliness.

Naked, I felt like a dirty old man looking at a nubile young girl. I felt terror. I felt a burden. I wanted to go home and never do this again, but I'm on this ride and it's never going to stop. But why does it have to be this body?

I have no life because I never had my teenage years, I'm not used to living like this, so on a Friday night I'm holding up in my room finally writing on this blog and putting off studying geometry. Because I don't want to live the life I've inherited.

Her name is Elyssa McClay. Ellie. She's 17 years old and she lives in Connecticut. It wasn't long before I found out this was not her first trip to the Inn.

I couldn't understand why someone would go back after finally getting their body back. I don't know how it happened. But that's not the worst part.

I'm feeling so stupid. I feel like such an awful person.

I made a huge mistake.

I didn't come here alone.

Greg/Alexis: The Wheels Come Off

So the blog's been a bit dead for awhile, and I dont know what everyone else's excuse is but I've been a little bit preoccupied.

About 5 days after my last post the Northeast part of the US was hit by Hurricane Irene. Dont worry , I'm safe. Its not anything like Hurricane Katrina which was a category 5 storm when it hit land. Irene was barely a tropical storm when she got to Vermont, that doesnt mean it wasnt rainy and windy as hell though.

Of Course, being from Chicago I'd never seen a hurricane (Oxford didnt get any last year) and I was freaking the fuck out. I was boarding up windows and putting what I thought were valuables in safe places.

Malinda is from Texas and had seen quite a few hurricanes and wasnt at all worried about Irene. She would look at me watching the weather channel and tell me to calm down. It was a weird contrast to what our lives had been up to that point, with me helping her adjust.

When the storm finally hit Burlington it was still very windy and rainy. The condo doesnt have a basement so I went to an interior room and started playing on Alex's 3DS.

And then, the power went out and I screamed like the girl that I was. A minute later Malinda came in with a candle to check on me. She distracted me by telling me stories of her childhood and other trivial stuff about her. I think my paranoia was getting on her. It was maybe the first time she treated me with something other than disdain or mistrust, not a major breakthrough but one nonetheless.

The storm was bad and there were a lots of crashing and howling as trees and debris flew all over town. I fell asleep on the Laundry room floor and woke up when the power came back on the next morning.

The house was still intact, in fact most of Burlington was fine. Most of Vermont got flooded as hell but we were still above water. It was mostly debris and downed powerlines, except in our front yard.

One of the trees had fallen down, missing the condo and keeping us safe, but landing smack dab in the middle of the Range Rover. Crushed it right down the middle like a hotdog bun. Keep in mind this was a big tree, and it hit it right in the sweet spot.

It didnt entirely flatten the cabin, which makes me wonder if I wouldve been OK if I'd been driving it. Its weird to think about but that shows just how much I'd grown to love that car. I was always a bit of a car nut and when My Mustang got left with my old life I had to drive Priya's BMW, which was pretty good but after a year with Dee's boring car I had an awesome Luxury SUV to enjoy and I was getting used to taking the scenic routes.

The thing was fully covered and we'll eventually get a new one, but that requires a lot of insurance paperwork. Since the tree wasnt on our property, it was on the condo associations's property, the car insurance company needs to talk to their insurance company as well as a ton of forms from me.

Anyone who's ever filled out an insurance claim will tell you what a nightmare it is. Its even harder when youre filling it out for someone else because at first I filled it out incorrectly. Certain details about the car loan and where and how it was bought got screwed up and the claim was denied. This of course meant I had to start over and was not able to get a rental car.

There are a lot of little details that dont get included in a "Trading Post Inn this is my life" letter that you dont need unless youre doing something like this. So the form filling out was contingent on getting the Real Alex enough time from the family she lived with to have a lengthy phone conversation about someone elses vehicle details.

During this ordeal I found myself relying on Annabelle for rides because Burlington's public transport isnt nearly as sophisticated as what I grew up with. She was actually really cool about it, although it did lead to her coming over to the house, being nice to Malinda, and getting the cold shoulder. I apologized for my fake wife and blamed it on artist's block.

Then about a week and a half ago I was bitching to Annabelle about the insurance companies and she asked me why I didnt start riding my bike places again. Apparently Alex is an avid cyclist and hardly ever drove until about a year ago. She's got like a 2000 dollar bicycle as well as a much more fancy and expensive one that she takes out in the woods on trails and stuff.

This solves my transportation dependence but its not without it's problems. For starters I can only do it during the day time. I dont care how athletic I am, ever since I became a girl I'm scared to be out riding my bike at night in an unfamiliar town. Second, it takes FOREVER. Like 3 times as long as with cars. Which means I have to leave earlier for things, get up earlier in the morning, and basically budget my time a lot closer. One of the reason's I havent updated, its hard to blog when youre pedaling.

Compounding those problems is the fact that in the last couple of weeks Burlington's gotten a lot more crowded. Home to the University of Vermont, The Queen City get's about 25% bigger once school starts. Navigating certain parts of town on a bike gets difficult with a bunch of doe eyed little freshmen Catamounts in your way.

Hopefully the car thing gets settled soon so we can get a new one. Malinda wants a Camaro but we're getting one exactly like the old one. Leave the life like you found it and all that. Plus a Camaro is gonna suck when it gets snowy soon. Better than a bike though.

-Greg.

Zane (Clara): Food for thought

Aside from being a model, Clara left me a job working at a snack bar on the pier. Since that doesn't involve posing for photos or looking like a girl (more than I already do) I've chosen to spend pretty much all my time here doing that. The hours aren't much and the pay is crap, but I think annoying flirty customers are still better than what I imagine modeling is like. Standing around looking pretty isn't really my thing.

Meanwhile, when I'm not working (which is usually) I'm cooped up in my room sitting on this laptop lurking my old self on Facebook. Whoever he is he hasn't got back to me yet which is weird and annoying and a little scary.

I try to avoid my housemates. I don't know any of them, I don't have anything to say to them, and I'm embarrassed enough walking around like this. I don't want too many people seeing me and thinking I'm Clara, that I like looking this way, that it's who I am. I hole up in my room and I try to eat, but I don't know anything about vegan diets, so I end up eating, like, crackers and fruit and salads. I'm really nervous that eating anything else will make me sick (not that this diet is making me feel like a million bucks.) I'm starting to feel claustrophobic anytime I'm in this room. I'm locked up in here with myself. Or really, with this girl I look like. I sleep a lot. I'm going crazy.

Then one weekend I hear a knock on the door and in barges this woman. It took me a minute before I remember it's Anthony, in Charlotte's body. She asks what the hell exactly was going on with me, ignoring phone calls and e-mails. I've been pretty much off communication with anyone. I forgot this blog even existed. Otherwise I mightve said something.

She basically drags me out of the house and says we're going for a drive. She asks how I am and I mutter "fine" and try to get off the topic. Anth's not really interested in "fine" though because he goes deeper. "I know you're not taking this well. I need you to know where I'm at." Okay, I said, lay it on me.

"I got my dick taken away, same as you," she says. "I wake up in the morning sore as fuck because I'm lugging around a set of tits twice the size of yours and sitting on my ass at an office doing bitch work because guess what... my job? It's to take care of you. Charlotte is a glorified executive assistant. Her one client as an agent was Clara Green, who suddenly decided she wasn't interested in following up on any of the offers she's gotten."

"Offers?"

"Yeah, one or two trickle in here and there. They let Charlotte have a chance to handle Clara as a test case, to transition from assistant to full agent. Guess what. It's not going well."

"I'm sorry to hear that, but it's not my problem."

"No, it's not," she admits, "You didn't ask to be Clara, and I didn't ask to be Charlotte. But we're sort of past that right now. There's someone out there, I don't even know who, doing my job, and I don't want him to fuck it up. Have you read this blog? There's half a chance we can go back, and if it works out, I don't want to leave CeeCee in the lurch any more than my real life would."

"So what?" I say, "I doubt the new me could do a worse job than I did, being me."

"That's kind of my point, Zane," she says. "No offense Zane, but there's a good chance that whoever's out there living your life is doing a better job than you. What if they get confident and lock you out? That happens too. You can't fall back into your old habits. Remember when you got fired from driving a delivery truck because you were always getting high on the job? For fuck's sake, dude, don't waste two lives."

I sit there, steaming. I know I have it coming, but I was not up to facing this yes. Maybe ever. I want to say I was happy scraping by living the bare minimum as Clara, but I wasn't. My first paycheck as her was about a hundred and fifty bucks. Suddenly I see the appeal of being paid to look pretty.

We wound up at a coffee place and the mood lightened a bit. "Promise me you'll think about it," she reasoned. "I know you have a hard time accepting charity, so just consider this an opportunity to help yourself and help others."

We get off the topic of my fucked-up life and start comparing notes on girliness. I look like a slop, in a t-shirt and shorts and flip flops. Anthony has taken the time to learn how to dress as a woman, has his hair looking nice, walks really confidently in heels. I have a hard time looking her in the eyes and seeing my old buddy.

"It's amazing what you learn to do when you have to actually leave the house every day," she says with a grin. "You find yourself in the water, you learn to swim quickly."

It wasn't until she dropped me back off at home that I sat down and realized how fucked up our situation really is. He was really in love with his girlfriend, had a great job, stands to lose a lot if the "new" him either fucks u, or decides to steal it all away from him.

I started drafting an e-mail to Clara, asking what exactly I had to do to "be a model."

Shaun/Doug - First fight

I don't know what to think. A month ago, I was in Massachusetts, recently dumped -- left at the altar -- and now I'm in California playing house.

Doug lives with his wife Nia in a decent house in the Valley. I really like the California weather. It'll be interesting to see what a winter's like without snow. There are plenty of upsides to this life. I thought the store Doug manages was a hardware store, but it's more of a general supermarket/pharmacy/everything store, kind of a local Wal-Mart knockoff we don't have out east. Doug outlined his basic duties and adapting hasn't been all that hard. The day-to-day stuff isn't that bad. Mostly people know their jobs and I can walk around figuring out where everything goes and who does what. Luckily, the staff all wears nametags to keep track of that sort of thing.

That's not what worries me about being Doug. He left his life in decent shape and I'll be happy keeping it as stable as I can until we can change back. There are just bigger issues to deal with.

That would be the wife. As I mentioned in my previous posts, I literally just got out of a long term relationship with the woman I thought I was going to marry. I'm not really "up" for being someone's husband.

Don't get me wrong, I'd be good at it. I've cohabitated for years. I loved not only my ex, but the whole feeling of having someone at home, someone around to talk to, to share interests, to be with. But that's only when you're ready for it. When you know and trust the person. This lady... I don't know. Although I can't say I blame her for acting standoffish toward me.

She's a nurse. Whereas I'm keeping business hours, she's out all the time. The first week, I hardly saw her. But she didn't make a great first impression.

I don't blame her for it. Her husband disappeared to the other side of the country for what, three weeks, a month, with no word why, and I wasn't exactly armed with the greatest excuses. Anthony cooked us up a cover story that Zane -- my "sister" Clara -- had gotten sick, but that just irritated Nia.

The thing is, she's totally right. Relationships need trust, and it looks like Doug broke that even though he didn't mean to. I just have to bear the brunt of her wrath, and that sucks, because I'm really not in the mood to take the heat for something so far beyond my control or even understanding. I can't tell her I'm not her husband, I can't explain why "I" was so late in coming home. All I can do is promise it won't happen again, even though I can't promise anything of the sort.

I sat there, listening sullenly as she ranted and raved at me -- having just gotten off a long shift, understandably overflowing with rage -- then she stopped and said "Well, are you going to say anything for yourself? Make some smartass comment?"

I just held my tongue and said "No. You're completely right."

This led her to chewing me out for not holding my ground. I tell you, I'll never understand women. When I didn't fight back even then, she stopped. "I guess you must mean it, if you're not going to try to defend yourself."

I didn't say anything more except, "Do you want me to sleep on the couch?"

She twisted her mouth. "After the past few weeks? I'm not spending another night in bed alone. Come on."

She led me up to bed. I was worried she was going to want me to be intimate, which I'm really not in the mood for. I don't know what Doug would think, but I don't know if it's my place to avoid it forever either.

Instead, all we did was crawl into bed in our pajamas, which is definitely something I could handle. After all the craziness of my life the past few weeks, I was glad to be in bed with another human. To feel her body close to me, to hear her breath as she sleeps. It was like sharing a bed platonically with Lisa back in Maine.

I barely slept that night. By the time I did wake up, she was already gone.

Between you and me, she's pretty easy on the eyes. She keeps in shape and has a beautiful dark complexion that I later learned was from being mixed African-American and Caucasian. If I saw her in public I'd definitely give a second look.

I feel a little sleazy for saying that, though. That's another man's wife.

Greg/Alexis: Finding Things

When you become someone else via the Trading Post Inn, you dont just get their body. Theres an expectation that you get their life too. That you get plopped into the same situation that they were in and have to start making your own way of it. This includes usually a new location, a new job, and new friends. It also means you get to use all of their stuff. I dont just have Alex Barco's eyes, hair, and tits, Ive also got her house, awesome computer, and SUV.

This leads to a sense of novelty that takes a bit of time to wear out. Where you live becomes a really furnished hotel, with a whole life's worth of stuff. This can make finding something you need a difficult task. Like when I went to go play tennis with Annabelle over the weekend and couldnt find the racket. I didnt want to call the real Alexis over something so silly because its embarrassing. Also she has a husband and kids now that she doesnt want to get suspicious of the tons of phone calls from her never before mentioned friend in Vermont, so I try not to call her unless its late at night.

The need to find a tennis racket caused me to do some serious rooting around my new place. I looked in the closets, basement, crawl space and garage. Found all sorts of old clothes and stuff, A few diaries that the girls kept from a long time ago A bunch of awesome retro videogame systems, and in a small box in the back of the bedroom closet was a box full of *ahem* "toys". All the rummaging attracted the curiosities of Malinda.

"What are you looking for?"

"A tennis racket, and probably some balls and stuff"

"Why?"

"To play tennis, duh"

"With who?"

"A friend"

"One of her friends"

"Yeah, I ran into her in the supermarket"

"And now youre playing tennis with her?"

"Yeah, I dont plan on staying inside all year like SOME people"

She stuck her tongue out at me but there was a hint of sadness in her face. I think the whole isolation thing is starting to wear on her. After I left her I finally found the tennis stuff in the garage crawl space. There were two bags, I figured correctly that the pink one belonged to Sharon and took the black one.

Sharon actually owns functional exercise wear, unlike any woman I'd ever been. I actually managed to go out exercising without showing off every curve I had. Bike shorts, sports bra, gym shorts and tank top and I was all set to play tennis at the health club with my new friend Annabelle.

I beat Annabelle there so I decided to do some stretching. I was even more flexible than I was as Priya, and that's from doing yoga for years. I've got a nice muscle tone to me, even after almost 2 months of not exercising regularly. I think that stems from natural metabolism and not eating like a pig. When Annabelle finally showed up I was warmed up I felt like I was about to test drive a new sports car.

I neglected to remember however that I knew very little about tennis technique. I was limited to mostly pickup games with friends but apparently Annabelle was hardcore about it and Alexis was on her level. I found myself to physically have no problem chasing down and getting to balls but when it came time to hit it my accuracy was terrible and I hit most of her serves out of bounds. To keep with the sports car analogy, it was like being handed the keys to a Lambourghini and not knowing how to drive a stick.

After getting destroyed 6-0, 6-0 Annabelle gave me some good natured bragging and asked if anything was wrong.

"Nothing, I think vacation threw my timing off" I said, vowing to myself to practice harder.

Then came the interesting part of the day. The locker room. A couple years ago I described going to a girls locker room when I was Priya as anticlimactic. Yes I could see everything but my body wasnt wired to appreciate it. Now here I was with the proper wiring and It was like a switch was flipped. Suddenly I remembered every thing I loved about the female body and was in aesthetic heaven. I just had to figure out how not to come off as the creepy lesbian leering at all the straight girls and making them nervous.

Showering was easy enough. There are little dividers between the showerheads and I was able to stare straight ahead and get myself washed up, but the changing room was a different story.

Annabelle was going off about something but I wasnt paying much attention. I was alternating between getting dressed and sneaking peeks at the people changing around me. Nobody noticed but i still felt a little guilty. Finally I decided to look at Annabelle when she was talking to me, but when I did she was standing there completely naked, as if it were the most natural thing. I tried to maintain eye contact but I did let my eyes wander to her chest and hips. She noticed this but didnt say anything. She smiled a bit and turned around, almost as if to say "check out the view from this angle". I dont know if thats what she meant, probably not. She's Sharon's friend too. I think my mind was just in the gutter. That whole hour or so was like the beginning of a porno movie.

When I got back Malinda was watching TV so I filled up the bathtub and proceeded to act out the middle of some porno movies. It was my first time as Alexis but I seemed to figure it out pretty quickly. After my bath I was so worn out from the tennis and the diddling I took the best nap ever.

So yeah. Thats what I did this weekend.

-Greg

Zane (Clara): Going to California

The transformation made me sick. I barely even remember getting my wits together to write that last post. I was on bedrest, throwing up, being tended to by my friends. I didn't understand what had happened to me, exhausted and dizzy.

Anthony later said he thought it was because of the shock of going from being Zane to being "Clara." I had been drinking heavily, and Clara's body is small and used to a vegan diet, and maybe the stuff I had put into my own body needed to be filtered out by whatever magical process transformed us. I don't know, it sounds as good of a theory as anything.

Anthony's a good guy, and when I could face him I told him flat out I didn't want to be "Clara." He reminded me I didn't have much of a choice. If he knew how to go back to his own body right away, he would. But we're stuck in these ones for now. I asked him what he was going to do, and he said "I'm going to be the best girl I can, because that's all I can do." I'm jealous of his confidence. I don't feel like I can pull this off, and I really don't want to have to.

Shaun and Lisa have it easy, they're still the same type of person they started out as. Shaun's taller than he used to be, a young, mid-20's decent-looking guy who looks like he has his life together: "Doug," my "brother." Lisa is a pretty young girl, like 18 or so, with long dark hair and a pretty nice body and Greek-looking features. "Eve."

Anthony ended up as "Eve's" sister, "Charlotte." She's about ten years older. The two of them are short, but Charlotte is curvier. I wouldn't say "fat" but she's got a huge bum, hips and big round boobs. I wonder what it would be like to be a girl like that, instead of a twig like Clara. She's pretty, too, I really like her face. Anthony has to wear glasses as her, though.

It's just so strange looking at these strangers and trying to see the people I know inside them. Lisa and Shaun have been quiet, but Anthony as always is a flurry of activity, arranging all of our ways home, keeping our shit together, reminding us who we are supposed to be. Then the fateful day came: "Okay, guys. We're flying to California."

I had put the finishing touches on my "My Life" letter, wondering if I'd ever be myself again... Anthony's read this blog and says it's possible, so I shouldn't give up hope. I didn't have a lot to say about myself, so I'm worried someone will just walk into my life and make it better and not want to leave. At the same time I can't just tell them "Keep collecting unemployment checks and applying for crappy jobs I didn't really want." Sorry, for a second there I felt like a loser.

I was a wreck for the flight out to California. Then I saw where I'll be living. It's like one of those reality TV houses, a big one not far from the beach, which Clara shares with 5 others. Anthony drove me home in Charlotte's car and led me up to my new room... clever guy, he asked one of Clara's housemates, "Hey, she's really a mess which room is hers?" so I wouldn't look totally clueless.

Before I knew it, a day had passed. I woke up the next morning and it still felt like someone was playing a joke on me... that I was only imagining I had this body, that I'm still a guy, I just can't feel my dick for some reason. I slipped my hand into my underpants, and... nothing but smooth flesh and a pair of soft lips.

Suddenly, I sat upright. Everything was real. This whole thing was happening whether I liked it or not. And I wish that meant this revelation meant I suddenly felt capable of living as Clara, but all it really meant was that I was finally capable of facing her in the mirror. I hadn't showered or cleaned myself in anyway since I was a guy and I felt rotten.

I peeked my head out the door and timidly tried every door until I found the washroom. I locked myself inside. I was in a white tee shirt and shorts. I've been nude in this body, but I hadn't really noticed it. I began to pace, hesitating at what I was about to do.

I stripped off the top and looked down. There they were, pointing outwards, a couple of firm, perky breasts blocking my view. I felt up under them with the palms of my hands, ran my fingers over their nipples. A shiver went up inside me. It's like... the most sensitive touch I've ever felt. Nothing in my old body would have sensed a feeling like that.

My eyes turned upward and faced the mirror, to the girl standing across from me cupping her breasts. I stepped closer and leaned over the sink to get a better look, feeling the flesh of my breasts hang low off me. I opened and closed my mouth, to remind myself I was in control of the girl in the mirror... mouthing, "Wow..." not at my looks, but just at... at the feeling of looking at someone else's body through their own eyes. Of being someone else. Of being in control of this.

I moved my one hand up to brush my hair behind my ear. I'm tanned, fairly evenly, with a few freckles, with sun-streaked sandy blonde hair over my ears. My eyes are deep blue, with a petite little nose beneath them, and rounded little lips. It was my biggest fear... Clara really is hot.

My mind flew back to the letter she left with her luggage, the novella she wrote about her life... she's a model, only part time but hoping to make it big. She's a goddamned model and even if she's not, like, 7 feet tall and stacked, she's still prettier than the average girl and seems to make a living being hot.

I turned the shower on full blast of cold, whipped my shorts down and climbed in, letting the water wash over my back. I just wanted to get numb again.

I got good and wet, ran my fingers through my hair, then shut the water off. I grabbed a towel and wrapped it under my arms, bundling my tits up and tiptoeing back to my room to hide from the world.

More later.
-Zane