Lane: So what if you don’t get a note?

Right. So, to whomever reads this:

I’m assuming by now that all of you reading this blog after almost 9 years know what has happened to me, in fact you all probably knew what was going to happen before it happened. My name is Lane Von Hoekstra, and I’m currently in Maine, and I’m not in my body.
Like seemingly 90 percent of the writers in this blog’s history, I’m currently a woman. I went to bed last night and woke up around sunrise to screams and pounding on doors and a set of breasts on my chest. After scrambling to find a tshirt that was now much too big for me, I went out into the hall to find a 7 year old girl shouting some Spanish curse words at anyone and everyone.

After about 10 minutes of insanity someone came out with a piece of paper telling us to check our rooms for notes, from the people whose bodies we were in. The hallway cleared and I headed back to my room and opened the closet for the first time to find a suitcase, a purse, but no note. I pawed through the suitcase and found women’s clothing and toiletries and some very racy lingerie…but no note. The purse had 35 dollars in cash, makeup, brush, tampon, an expired plane ticket, a wallet with a Michigan driver’s license featuring an awful picture of my new face…but no note.

The license was something to go on at least, apparently my new name is Karina Cruz from Trenton, MI. A little googling told me it was a suburb of Detroit, although the address on the card is to an apartment so I’m not sure how well off she could be.
So today I spent asking everyone if they knew anything but nobody around town seemed to recognize my face. Finally I found a flyer in the lobby for this blog, which I didn’t pay attention to at all probably due to this “curse” that I’m reading about. It’s a bit daunting to see that people have been writing about this place for almost a decade and I couldn’t decide whether to read from the beginning to see what Arthur/Liz or Ashlyn wrote or keep up with the goings on of the current posters. I decided to do a little bit of both.

A few months of pawing through scary tales of what I’d have to deal with, I got the brilliant idea to use this blog to work on my problems. So I emailed the Outlook address listed on the front page and within an hour I got a response from someone named Alia with a password and was encouraged to write my experiences, that it helped not only her but people who were reading it.

So. Karina Cruz, if you are reading this please contact your old body. I have your old cell phone all charged but the service seems to be shut off so email might be the best bet. Also if anyone who stayed at the inn a couple of weeks ago and transformed with her, contact me and we can see if I can get some clues.

Thanks in advance,
Lane