Marc/Dustin: Heading Out On My Own

With our return reservation to the Inn still months away, I was thinking there has got to be some way to fill the summer besides punching the clock at the front desk of the gym.

Dustin's ambition in life is to be a phys. ed teacher. We agreed at the outset that there was not much point in me doing much to pursue that on his behalf -- sure, it might feel like a viable shortcut for his resume but it doesn't help his development. So I've been fairly idle this year. But we managed to put our heads together to try to figure out something I could do that would suit "him" without taking experience he should be having for myself.

We wound up finding a youth soccer program I could coach. There's a two-week training course, which of course I will be needing because I've never coached anything in my life, before the kids arrive. It's a weekend-and-after school thing until school lets out, and it runs until July, meaning I'll be free of commitments by the time we go back to Maine.

It's not the world's greatest career opportunity, and without the financial backing that my not-so-bottomless war chest provides, it probably wouldn't make sense to do, but it's fine.

Thing is, it's kind of a ways away -- over state lines -- meaning that to work there, I'll have to move out of the house.

And that's fine! Aside from Mary, who has assured me she will be okay, there isn't anything there for me. I'll miss hanging out with Ifena and Charly watching cheesy reality shows and procedurals, but it's best if I find a reason simply not to be there anymore.

It just feels a little weird to have been bunkered down for so long, and then to leave just as we're getting close to the end. I'm moving on Thursday, so I have a few days to get settled in before training starts.

Koti, meanwhile, has been incommunicado. Which is worrying to me, because I can never speculate where her head might be at, if she's going to do something a little out-of-pocket as the kids say. I've let her know what's up with me, signaling that it's safe for her to return to the house, which I would love because it would mean that one of us, Mary, could keep tabs on her until it's time to go back. I'm hoping that this shakes something loose in that situation.

That's all for now

-Marc/Dustin

Ainsley: Out Of Bounds

Nobody told me going on my first first date in three years would be this nerve-wracking!

OK that's a lie, everybody told me that. My friends, kind of my roommate, musicians, those reality TV ladies who've had enough of their exes' bullcrap but also haven't had enough of Netflix's bullcrap. And even kind of me, but the last time I'd just gotten over a breakup was... I don't even wanna think about it! So, it turns out it's just another one of those things you have to learn firsthand no matter how many times people try to warn you.

Tinder hasn't gotten any better since I was fresh out of college, that's for sure. But it's not like I had high expectations in the first place? I'd just like to know at what age I'll see fewer pics of guys holding up a fish than of them. I don't know. Golfing? From what I hear at work there's a point when a set of golf clubs magically zaps into a man's bedroom and he starts having opinions about who's going to win The Masters.

You know it had to be a dog pic that got me. Yeah yeah, I'm so predictable, I get it!!! But what am I supposed to do, just turn down the chance to meet an adorable Dachshund? Hey guys-- bigger isn't always better when it comes to dogs! It leans in to the whole inoffensively cute vibe the guy -- Erik -- had that let me feel comfortable enough to roll the dice. Don't want to get back into dating on a bad note, after all.

We met up outside the restaurant he picked and that's when it hit me how I hadn't really had a one-on-one conversation with a man in. Well over a year, I think? Not counting work stuff.

But dinner went really well actually, and not just the surprisingly great Korean/Mexican fusion food! I would've been happy to let him do most of the talking, just to put the pressure off since I'm still a little nervous about everything. Instead he seemed really interested in my hobbies instead of just wanting to go on all evening about the rock climbing gym he's at half the time. Not that I have a ton of interesting hobbies right now, lol. But it was a good excuse as any to bring up SugarBunny and the dog talk carried us the rest of the way through dinner.

Erik's a busy guy, and before we met up he told me about another hobby of his and invited me to come with. Contra dancing. Really?? I didn't know anything about it but I figured the average age would be like, 50 so it seemed pretty harmless and I said yes. I can handle a little dancing, right? It won't be a nightclub this time, I should be able to have fun somewhere like that.

My first impression was the crowd was actually pretty young, so I was wrong about that! Maybe I'm not as in touch as I like to think. Dinner ran kinda late so we got there with only a couple minutes left of everyone standing around and Erik giving me a rapidfire explanation of how to contradance before the music started and everyone paired up. There was some kind of emcee on stage saying random phrases that correspond to dance moves but I had no idea what any of them went, so I just kind of let Erik guide me through whatever we had to do and tried to follow along. Then before I know it everyone switched partners and I stood there staring around at the crowd of strangers before this other guy made eye contact and came up before I could say anything. He tried twirling me around but before I could even think about where to put my feet everyone switched partners again, this girl with a pixie cut looked at me, and the same thing happened again! Finally it was back to Erik, where I hoped I'd get at least a couple minutes to catch myself.

But I didn't get any better. Erik kept telling me to just relax, try not to move so stiffly, and I wasn't able to make myself do it. The others who wanted to dance with me seemed just as unimpressed. It's like, no matter what I tried, I was always out of step with everyone else. We lasted fifteen minutes before Erik took me aside and asked if I was having a good time. I think Mel would have a good time at a place like this. Sara would act all embarrassed about going somewhere this wholesome and have some choice words, but she'd find a way to have fun with it anyway. And Ainsley... Ainsley...

Okay, look. I know that I owe any of you readers who may happen to be concerned a real explanation for what's going on with me. I'm going to say it up front: I know I'm not Ainsley, I don't believe I'm Ainsley, I didn't wake up one morning so unable to cope with the reality of the Inn and my own body's uncertain status that I convinced myself I'm someone else. Regardless of what anyone else does, I'm going to Old Orchard Beach when the reservation receipt says I am.

But if everyone kept telling you there's something wrong with you, whether they know the truth or not, and you start to believe it, and you kind of always did. And there was a hole in the world, one whose shape you suddenly fit, one you become immersed in every hour of your life for months, and you can tell how badly everyone around you wishes it were never there, and what left it behind had a better life than you... Wouldn't you eventually want to fill it? Just to see what it's like? Would it really be so horrible to try more than just the minimum of what the world expects?

That's what I realized, lying in my bed late one night. I hated the idea of giving in to the shit Sara and Marvin keep throwing at me, and a lot of Ainsley's choices weren't exactly ones I'd make on my own-- but I knew what those choices are! I had a guidebook, embedded into this entire life, for what's expected of the person shaped like Ainsley Thomas.

So I followed it-- more than the amount I'd been that's just enough to keep her from losing her job or (more of) her social life. I didn't wake up the next morning thinking I'm Ainsley, but I kept telling myself I did. I went to the gym, immersed myself in her interests, made small talk, annoyed my roommate, cooed at dogs, and generally tried to act like a happier person. And, to my shock, it sort of worked? Maybe it's the forced optimism but I think people have been nicer to me since I started doing this. The air of confused concern surrounding I used to get from Ainsley's circle lessened, even if it didn't go away. And over time, I got these moments where I could just, stop thinking about it and coast off the inertia of my own Ainsley impression. Like I've previously said, the important thing is keeping myself too busy and immersed to run out of momentum.

It essentially became a game where I'd ask myself how far I could take this. That's probably how I managed to talk myself into getting on Tinder, the prospect of which would've caused the me of even two months ago to spontaneously combust. Even still, I didn't intend taking it any further than going on one date and saying whatever I needed to to end things after that. I'd assumed that a random Tinder guy would give me plenty of reasons to regardless. But no, somehow my date turned out to know how to treat a lady.

That's a lot of what I thought in the back of my mind as I ran down my standard Ainsley small-talk script at Erik, being treated that way. How big his arms are compared to mine, getting the door opened for me, they way his speech was weird combination of respectful and slightly patronizing. He kept looking at me. Obviously I've experienced all this one way or another just by existing in public but that was always in situations where I could just leave or, at worst, zone out. But there, we both signed up for it, and I, Ainsley Thomas want to be treated that way on a date, I reminded myself. It's normal. Maybe I actually did kind of like parts of it once the sense of danger wore off a bit, but it's hard to tell whether I've Pavloved myself at this point. Or it was the novelty. I don't know.

The point is, I'd mentally prepared myself for my date to be the one to ruin it, but no, I had to ruin it when I finally hit the limit of my Ainsley persona. I just can't bring myself to dance. It's more funny than sad, compared to the nightclub from the bachelorette party. Clubs like that are high-pressure environments full of stressors that would've set me on edge even if I didn't have Ainsley's relationship with her best friend on the line. But I still can't find it in me to move freely in an all-ages group dance in a brightly lit gym? Come on. It makes it feel unreachable, that sense of fluidity and gracefulness (or enthusiasm, if the first two aren't great) all the women Ainsley's age I meet seem to have. Not that I could dance as a guy either but at least then it felt like there's lower expectations. Everyone at the contra dance could tell, they looked concerned, they were right to be!

I held off Erik's requests that we could seriously just chill out by the side and talk if I wasn't having any fun for about ten more minutes of dancing before I caved. But it felt like there wasn't anything to discuss. The momentum left broken and how un-Ainsley I really am returning in full force. Soon enough I left, telling him I'd had a good time (not completely a lie) and I'd talk to him later. We haven't spoken since, and now I don't know who I'm going to be in three days, in a different sense from how I don't know who I'm going to be in three months.

Tom/Kiara: Happy Birthday

April 25 was my birthday. That is to say, it's Kiara's birthday, which means it's "mine" for the time being. I knew this, because I've spent time looking at plenty of documents as Kiara -- and I did look into when I would finally be "an adult" at 18 again -- but it wasn't as if I was eagerly awaiting the day, counting down to it on the calendar. It took me a moment to realize what was happening when Jen woke me up and told me to get ready for our day.

"Our" day? Not that I'm on bad terms with Kiara's mom, but we don't exactly spend a lot of time together. If she's at the house, I'm usually not and vice versa. Our text conversation is a never-ending stream of who is taking care of Sienna when. I'm grateful and all, I just haven't been able to foster much of a personal relationship with her.

With so much constantly going on at the house, you won't be surprised to hear that I'm not accustomed to being in the spotlight. And that's how I like it. The less people acknowledge my existence the easier it is for me. But I guess "my" birthday was going to be the one day we focused on me.

Jen treated me to a one-on-one brunch, which was a nice gesture but also an awkward one. Here we were, sitting eye-to-eye at the table for once and I have nowhere to hide. Luckily there are plenty of conversational topics -- Sienna, of course, and school.

"You thinkin' about what comes next?" she asked me over something sorta like "eggs benedict."

"Yeah," I sighed, "There's, um, a lot up in the air right now." There's obviously still an outside chance that the real Kiara, aka "Lisa Brown," will relent and come back to her own life, but the time is running out for that.

"I'd be happy to show you the business, help you pay for beauty school," she said, "But I get the feeling that's not what you want."

"No," I said sourly, "No offense, it's not for me."

"I haven't heard you paly your guitar in a while, is that dream dead?"

"I... had to face reality," I said, "Motherhood and musical aspirations don't mix."

"I'm sorry you feel that way," she said.

The conversation -- which continued to a manicure where I let my nails get painted with spring pastels -- couldn't help but take on a dour tone. Simply talking about life as a teen mom in a dead-end North Carolina town with no prospects didn't really fill me with excitement.

Next was shopping. It was just at a discount store, but it was Jen's idea of a nice gesture, and it was. "I don't even know your size anymore," she confessed, "So I thought it would make more sense if you just pick something out and I pay for it. Don't worry about the price. If you want it, it's yours." I was hesitant, but she was insistent and I was moved by the gesture. I picked up a decent jacket and -- don't laugh -- a miniskirt. Summer's coming, after all.

We brought home take-out for dinner and sat down as a family. The younger sibs had made me a homemade card, which was adorable and really moving. After cake, Cerie had an announcement.

She's pregnant.

As you may recall, Kiara's younger sister been dating Kiara's babydaddy Byrd, which would make our kids half-siblings (three-quarter siblings?) Jen and Kelly were actually congratulatory, albeit in a tentative, restrained way. The littles were thrilled that there would be another baby. I did a terrible job masking the fact that I was aghast.

"Are you fucking kidding me?" I hissed, "What is it about the way that I live that makes you want some of that? The exhaustion? The anxiety about my future? The financial burden? What about mom and grandma -- you think they have the bandwidth to take care of another kid?!"

"Kiara, hush!" Jen reprimanded me.

"Why you mad?" Cerie sneered in her Gen-Z-or-is-it-Alpha tone. "You think you're the only one who deserves attention just because you had a baby first?"

"God, that is so not what this is about..." I huffed, sounding every bit the teenager I appear to be, albeit maybe one from the 2000's, rather than today. "It's so short-sighted, especially knowing what I've been through."

"So why's it okay for you?!" Cerie shouted back, while Jen and Kelly tried to wrangle us with cries of 'Girls, please!'

"It's not okay for me, that's the point!" I was practically in tears, but more of rage than anything. "It's irresponsible! I fucking ruined my life, and you're about to do the same!" ("Language!")

"I can't believe you would say that about your own daughter! And mom too, like she ruined her life having you?!"

"No, I...!" I sputtered, "Can't you see how fucked up this is?!"

"That's enough!" Jen shrieked, "Kiara, don't speak for me, don't try to tell me what I have the 'bandwidth' for! If Cerie wants this, I will help her just like I helped you! You ingrateful little bitch!"

("Ingrateful" isn't even a word, but it's not like that was the headline at the time.)

"I don't belong here!" I screamed, which probably came out of nowhere as far as they were concerned. I stormed upstairs to where Sienna was asleep.

Soon after my arrival, she awoke and started crying, so I held her to my breast and fed her. I'm trying to wean her off that soon, but it was as much for me as anything else I guess.

After she finished, she began babbling. "Amma... amm... a... mama... mama..."

It's not the first time she's spoken, and not the first time it's come out sounding that way, but it was pretty clear and pretty repetitive. As galled as I was that people would treen a teenage girl getting pregnant as a good, exciting thing, there are definitely moments of beauty, and I always try to do right by this innocent little baby. I do love her. After all this time, how could I not?

As tears streaked down my cheeks, I gathered myself and took a video of the little girl, holding on her until she finally said it again.

I texted it to "Lisa Brown."

"Happy birthday," I wrote.

-Tom/Kiara

Arthur/Millie/Penny: Jumpy

It's been a while - almost 19 years! - since I've booked return tickets to the Inn, so I'd kind of forgotten the combination of giddiness and panic that comes with it.  I think most folks feel the same; there's this genuine relief that things are going to get back to the way they should be, and I have met a lot of folks who actually enjoy this phase of the Inn experience more than anything else.  "Okay," they seem to say, "now that this has an end date, I can stop worrying what enjoying this says about my inner self, and I don't have to worry about feeling trapped by this thing I don't like."  You would not believe how many people who've become the opposite gender really step up their sexual experimentation in those last couple months! 

The flip side, though, is that you can get extremely paranoid about anything going wrong or amiss.  This is my first time waiting to return to the Inn since I started writing fiction, so now I've trained myself to extrapolate everything down every path it could take, so there are a lot of things that could go wrong in my head, and that's on top of being a kid.  Ray and Harmon and I have tacitly agreed that unless I do something really stupid or dangerous, especially with other kids involved, they're not going to make much show of parental authority, even if it's somewhere that Ray and I would try to rein Millie in, but the rest of the world isn't in on this, and I've spent a few nights worrying about how things could get messed up if I draw someone's ire as a "misbehaving teenager".

Because that's really easy to do!  This weekend after tennis practice, for instance, "Venus" (not her real name) and I were hanging out on the Common, drinking Dunkin iced coffees with enough caffeine for full-grown men even though it was pretty chilly because we're New Englanders (well, Millie is, and I've been here long enough, right?), taking selfies and scrolling through TikTok, laughing and squealing when we hit a particularly funny one.  I was maybe acting my apparent age than usual - I had endorphins from a good practice and a lot of coffee! - but at most, we were being annoying.  Still, a cop came over and asked what we were up to, we both got a little mouthy for different reasons (I do occasionally react to stuff like I'm both an adult and totally white while Venus loves rap battles almost as much as tennis and her parents have insulted a deep distrust of authority in her), and while nothing actually happened, his hand was on his nightstick the whole time and he shooed us away from the group that I guess was giving us the stink-eye.

Which led to like a half hour of us doing increasingly mocking imitations of the puffed-up tyrant. 

After a while, we started wandering around Downtown Crossing (the new Japanese pop culture shop isn't open yet, alas), when Venus stopped outside the fancy Legal Sea Food and pointed inside.  "Is that your mom?"

I was already starting to say something about not thinking so before looking up and realizing that, yes, it was Harmon, all made up and wearing a cardigan and a camisole that showed some cleavage, talking to some man I didn't recognize.  He was about my real age and kind of good-looking, although he probably should just let his gray hairs show rather than try and cover it up.  They were laughing and looking more than chummy, so I whipped my phone out and took a photo before walking off.  Venus and I did a little more window shopping, but it wasn't a much fun anymore and started to drizzle, so we went out separate ways. 

Naturally, I was waiting for Harmon when she got home, looking as stern as I could, although I've seen this look on Millie's face as well as a bunch of students, and so I know that there's a hint of "kid upset she has to eat her vegetables" to it.  I pulled the phone out and showed her the picture.  "Who's this?"

Harmon looked and busted out laughing.  "It's the new editor, Rob Giordano!  Remember, Lucinda is starting her maternity leave, so Rob is going to be our point of contact with the publisher.  He and his son were visiting colleges this weekend, so he texted to see if we could have a quick sit-down to meet in person."

I raised my index finger to start making points.  "One, you're not supposed to do anything publisher-related without involving me; two, you're looking awful friendly for having just met!"

She rolled her eyes and pulled her (my) phone out of her purse.  "Millicent, the text came while I was at that fundraising dinner with Ray, and I had forgotten about it when we got home.  You were out the door by the time I got up, and though I planned to demur, it seemed like bad form.  As for how we looked, I suppose that I may have seemed more relaxed around someone who did not know you, but that is all there is to it - I am certainly not looking to entangle myself with your life more than I already am during the next month!"

As much as i hate being called by Millie's full name at school even more than she does, pulling that at home is just openly insulting.  Still, I knew she was looking for a reaction and hopefully didn't give him one more than clenching my jaw.  "You should still have given me a heads-uo; you're way past using 'I never got used to the way young people text' as an excuse."  Am I proud that I responded by emphasizing that he's an old man underneath his skin?  Well, maybe it's adolescent pettiness, but I'm not ashamed.  "So, what's he like?"

We talked shop for a bit, and the new guy mostly sounds like someone I'll be able to work with.  I must admit, I'm kind of worried that it will be more than an interim arrangement, because while my publisher probably won't lay Lucinda off while she's on leave, we all know how it works now, that the corporate higher-ups will see that the imprint doesn't collapse with one fewer editor, so if someone else leaves, they just won't fill the position when she returns, but might do a reorganization where everyone gets shuffled to look after a little more. 

Which would be a bummer; I've been working with Lucinda for years and we've got a good relationship that I don't think Harmon has sabotaged.  I suppose that would be the case no matter what, unless some butterfly effect thing means that her working with Harmon rather than me - say, things running long because I'm feeding him answers - changed circumstances just enough that she and her husband conceived when they otherwise wouldn't have.  Still, I would have liked to say goodbye. 

Ah, well, it's school vacation week in Massachusetts and I'm actually not booked solid with sports, but might instead get to spend a couple evenings "helping mom" stay book signings, which folks find adorable.  I am ready to be on the other side of that again! 

- Arthur/Penny/Millie

Marc/Dustin: Internal Affairs

I guess you can say life has been on a low simmer for the last couple of months, which is why you haven't heard from me. I've been working: I picked up a job working the desk at the gym, which is great because gym membership is pretty much my main expenditure (along with rent for 2 people and the enormous grocery bill this body generates.) That's kept me busy and away from posting, and also away from moping about my life.

Koti took my declining of her proposal to be a complete rejection and breakup, which was not really what I was going for, but at least acknowledges that we had an expiry date. I would love to make peace before we leave these lives, but there's a lot of time for that. We haven't booked into the Inn until August, because of the number of people in our "chain" who want their bodies back.

After that, Koti left the house. Left town, in fact, and went back to Dakota's family. I personally thought that was absurd and immature, but I figured it was best to give her the space she needs. By now, I've earned the kind of goodwill from the house that I don't need Koti to be living here to justify my presence. It kind of came out that I was paying both of our rents and that turned sentiment... not against her per se, but certainly toward my favor.

In a possibly unintended side-effect of Koti's absence, Mary and I have been hanging out a lot. I don't know how Koti/John would feel about me and their (ex-?)wife bonding, but that's out of their control. We spend a lot of evenings together, given that when she gets off her shift, PJ is usually working. We hang out in my room or her room, always with the door open so that nobody thinks anything shady is going on. I will admit to providing the occasional back or foot rub.

Even though we've made connections with the others in the house, being the two who share a secret means that we're going to lean on each other a fair bit, because sometimes you just need to let the mask down and talk to someone who knows you're not who you look like. 

Mary, for instance, has very mixed feelings about what she describes as her "fake" relationship with PJ. "Don't get me wrong, they're a lovely person," she sighs, "And without realizing it, they've taught me so much about the world and young people today. But if I were choosing a partner for myself, it wouldn't be them. But it's what they and Cassie want, and I didn't see any reason not to. I needed something to take my mind off of what was happening between you and John."

"I understand that," I said with a sigh, feeling guilty. "I feel a bit like what Koti and I had... what John and I had... was a bit of a runaway freight train. Once the momentum started we just had to let it go until it crashed. I got so caught up in it, I worry I didn't think about your feelings..."

"John and I have felt like a lost cause for years," Mary said. "But he hates to lose, hates to give anything up. He wouldn't divorce me. He just stubbornly insisted we could make it work. He and PJ are a lot alike in their forceful nature, which is probably what turns me off about them, actually. It bothers me to think I have a type like that. Sometimes I wish it had been you and me, Marc."

"Hm?"

"I mean, fate, and the Inn, put my husband in the body of Dustin's girlfriend and you into Dustin. And that's the only reason anything sparked between you two, because you had to pretend. Suppose I had become Dakota. Would we have had the same spark? You're such a kind person."

"I'm... I'm not, really," I said modestly.

"Don't sell yourself short," Mary chuckled. "Even now I'm lying here on your bed, and you won't make a move because, well... because it's not for Dustin and Cassie to do. You won't even consider it because of who you are and who you think I am, maybe because in spite of everything you've done with my former husband, you still think of me as John's wife. You dating Koti... that was a kindness, and it had the fringe benefit of her being a cute little thing. And maybe you can forget she's a man inside, and an irascible one at that. Or maybe it doesn't matter, I don't know."

I said nothing.

"I kind of want you two to be  together, but... I also want my own Marc, you know? When he disappeared, and it was clear he wouldn't be back soon, I... I got on the apps, I'll admit. I flirted, I went out. I wanted to see what life might be like as a divorcee. But when John came back, I thought, this is safe, this is right, this is what I know... even thought it's hard to put up with at times. My whole adult life has been wrapped up in him and it was hard to let go of that."

"And now?"

"I think that, one way or the other, when we get back to ourselves... if we get back to ourselves... we'll have to talk to some lawyers. I'm done, and I need him to admit he's been done for a long time. Maybe having you will soften the blow... if he still has you."

"I... I don't know about that."

"Well, I want you to be happy," Mary said. "And I want him to be happy. And if you can be happy together, that's great. And if you would be happier without him, but he's miserable... I think I could live with that." She smirked. "This isn't anything he doesn't know, but I think he thinks I'm not serious when I say it."

I said nothing, I just stared up at the ceiling.

Then after a while, she giggled. "I don't suppose I could convince you to become a 62-year-old man? Just long enough to sign some papers."

"I think it's probably best if I go my own way after this," I said tentatively, "If I had a choice. Let you two work things out amongst yourselves."

"Smart," she nodded. "Get out of this black hole we've sucked you into."

"Cheers to that," I sighed.

"And take me with you," she added, then sat up. "PJ'll be up soon. I think they'll want a little attention."

"You shouldn't have to force yourself," I said sympathetically.

"I've done worse for worse, and less in return," she sighed, then smiled wryly. "Plus, that non-binary sucker can screw."

"Okay--!" I guffawed as she departed and left me on my own.

-Marc/Dustin

Heather/Sara: Got some explaining to do...

Watching my roommate over the last couple weeks is the most unsettling thing I've ever seen.

Is what I would say if I didn't spend the last twelve years working at a high school. I've seen some shit, okay? But it's in the top 10. Probably. Definitely 20, I'll give 'em that much.

But yeah. I don't really pay a ton of attention to the blog, but no matter what my roommate might think I like to keep an eye on it, and when I saw the post earlier I felt like I should let you guys in the loop on what I know. And also. Who else am I even supposed to talk to about it!? The real Ainsley? Hell no am I gonna be the one to have that conversation. (For her own sake, I hope she doesn't read the blog!)

The other day Isaac, late at night (for him but not for me anyway) told me he's gonna try to be Ainsley "for now" and that I should call him that and not mention Inn stuff unless I absolutely have to. Looked all teary and out of his mind. I was kinda high and didn't really process what he just said so I just went "yeah sure OK" and set him back to bed. The next day I didn't see my roommate-- okay, I gotta add, I don't even know what name or pronouns to use here, I mean I don't really get the whole thing but I try to be respectful about it but also this is a different kind of thing, get what I'm saying? Like it's not the same situation with the crap I get from parents over a teacher using the ones the kid wants them to use, or not using the ones the kid wants and-- It's different. So I'm just gonna stick with he, and Isaac (I'm not gonna put "Ainsley" in quotes everywhere that'll just get old) at least until he lets me have a real conversation about this!

But yeah, if you saw what he wrote you get the picture, he's gone the full Ainsley. Finally went and snapped, and I gotta admit part of me was just surprised that it took this long. Okay I was surprised about the shape he snapped into, if I were a betting gal I would've put it on him losing it enough to take a pill from some stranger at wherever that bar he's been disappearing to is ("The Lounge" isn't its real name, apparently, kid covers his tracks!), who happened to offer it to him at the exact wrong moment. Honestly I was looking forward to it. That kid just hates himself, it got sad to watch before we even got on the plane, he would've needed to let off some steam even if he wasn't stuck impersonating Miss Perfect here while that weirdo's dangling his own life over his head. I've never seen anyone that permanently uncomfortable.

Only now he's really impersonating Miss Perfect instead of having the fun breakdown I'd regret wishing for once I had to clean up all the vomit (wouldn't be the first roommate who pulled that on me, but at least she had to return the favor. Or maybe it was me returning the favor. Whatever, long time ago, and also I did that for three kids so a hungover roommate is a breeze!!). And it's just. Uncanny! He's got the impression most of the way there (or at least I think he does, I never met Ainsley) but you can still kind of see the Isaac in there if you know him, which only I do, so. Point is, I hate fake smiles and forced cheeriness and all that crap, and I say that as someone whose job description includes lots of it so I know what I'm talking about! Now Isaac has the combined powers of a self-loathing anxiety case and the worst PTA moms I have to politely throw out of my office, and even "in character" he went out of his way to admit he likes how much it fucks with me. I've seen those smirks. I'm not self-centered enough to think I'm the main reason he's doing all this, but I'll give him that if I were, it'd be working. Never would've bet he had it in him to act that passionately about reality TV, or that dog, or really anything besides his plants, for anywhere near that long.

It's rich that Isaac's spent the last eight months going all "wow Heather, you like Sara's life too much, you're getting addicted to being too young and too cool and having too much fun" and now he goes off and throws his personality on the altar of someone who actually has a life. But look, I used to hang out with girls like Sara. I used to be girls like Sara. And I made mistakes in my life, but I know what it's like to be someone like her-- I saw Nirvana live, ya know? I've been cool!-- and what am I supposed to do, sit around all day feeling guilty about how I got one of the better curses the Inn can throw at you? Apologizing? Panicking about every little choice? Obviously that doesn't work, Isaac knows it, and now the whiplash got him so hard it's got him trying to date men. Good luck, kid! He doesn't know how shitty men can be. He thinks he does, we all start out thinking we're so smart, but he doesn't. He's like a teenage girl. Assuming he doesn't snap out of it and/or chicken out, of course.

Welp, at least losing his mind gets him out of the house more.

Ainsley: Rebound

Hey everyone! Just wanted to give you guys a couple updates on what I've been doing to get my life back together.

I know I've been in a funk for awhile, since I got out of the denial stage about the breakup, really. I wasn't feeling like myself and it took me too long to really realize how much it was hurting me and my friends. So one day, I just decided-- I've had enough! I can choose to be different! And so I told myself, and the world, that Ainsley Thomas is BACK!!!!!

I started by getting back into my old gym routine before work. Bringing back the habit of getting up that early was an adjustment but I've learned that keeping myself too busy to really think about anything is just part of the process, lol. It's also an adjustment for SugarBunny, who I think was finally getting used to having to get up before me for his walkies, but I can tell he's really happy about not having to practice his patience like that. I've neglected him more than anyone else lately and now I'm always giving him extra belly rubs to make up for it.

Like I said, the secret is just keeping myself busy. I got my hair done without waiting for the absolute last minute, volunteered to be a presentation lead at work for the first time in months, and best of all, quit it with the excuses for skipping Brunch With The Girls every now and then. These ladies know me better than anyone and I hate that I somehow lost sight of that. Well, them and my parents. I'm working on it but I don't know if I'm ready for that one yet.

I've even been having Mel over to help me catch up on Love Island. I hate how withdrawn I got from my bestie and it's been too long, even before the whole thing with my ex, since we just kind of chilled out on a couch together with a bottle of wine like we're back at the Gamma house. And god, the look on Sara's face when I started inviting someone over without telling her beforehand? Priceless. And she knows she can't complain about it, at least Mel always goes home before midnight!!

Sara and I for sure have our differences and rough patches, but I love the girl and she's been more on my case about how I'm not doing anything fun anymore than anyone else I know. And she was right! Which is why it's so weird to catch her staring at me like something's wrong every now and then. This is what everyone wants, right? For me to get over myself? Maybe I should just be flattered to get the hint that underneath the sarcasm she really does care about me, but it's still pretty weird.

I'm still getting those weird looks from some of the other girls, too. I'm not at a hundred percent yet, I know, I forgot in front of my friends about when we all went to an Eras Tour show and I had to spend a quarter of it consoling one of them in the bathroom when she got sick-- we all have our moments, you know? And I had to see the same concerned looks I've gotten ever since the breakup, and haven't really lessened since I decided to get my act back together.

I love my friends but maybe what I need is to meet some new people, people who haven't seen me at my worst. That's why I bit the bullet and finally redownloaded Hinge even if it makes me a little nervous to get back into things. Okay, a lot nervous. I'm definitely not ready for anything serious-- how can I commit to anything when I don't know what my life will look like a few months from now? But it'll help me train some muscles I haven't used in a long time, and maybe I'll come away from it with a couple interesting stories. That doesn't make updating my bio any less nerve-wracking though! All the pics are 3 years old at least and I don't have a lot of good recent ones. It's not cheating if I use ones from before last summer, right?

We'll see if anything happens. Or maybe I'll just get run over by how awful casual dating can be now that it's been long enough that I forgot about it. But really? I'm just glad I'm doing things on my own again-- really trying to be happy and enthusiastic and affectionate and all the things about myself I'd lost in that fog! And at the end of the day, all the hours I spent in front of the mirror teaching myself how to smile again are gonna be worth it.