The Trading Post

Anthony/Ceecee: Drive

2012-01-24T23:11:00.007-05:00

I'm a driven individual. I take my work very seriously, it's the same now as it was when I was a man. I don't linger long on this blog because for the time being my only objective has been to keep my head down, keep busy, be the best Ceecee I can be and prepare for my return to my own body.

People notice. I'm not content to do the grunt work while the higher-ups take the credit. There was a learning curve to working in the industry, but I picked it up as quickly as I could. It's all networking anyhow. There have been three things motivating me. One is the desire to keep from thinking too hard about my predicament.

The second is money. I always had a good supply of cash as Anthony. I wasn't "1%" rich, but I was working my way up. Ceecee left me with a modest budget and less job security, so I had to work extra hard. It was an adjustment, but it was a challenge I was willing to meet.

Third was concern for my friend. Even before I knew Zane was suffering from Clara's depression, I felt it was my responsibility to look after him. For months, between September and December, much of my time was spent guiding Clara's career, when I could have been acquiring new clients to hedge my bets, or at least working closer with existing ones who weren't as reluctant to do their jobs. It isn't that I wanted Zane to accept his new role, it was that I wanted to give him something to focus on, like I had found, so that when he went home at night he didn't pass out in bed drunk and wake up the next morning feeling like a wreck. The idea that it could be biological never even occurred to me.

Over the course of a few months, I negotiated several modeling gigs for Clara. It's not glamorous runway stuff, most of it was just advertising, stock photos, trade conventions... junk gigs that none of the girls really want to do, but they pay.

It wasn't working. I was getting fed up with Zane's inability to get with the program. This culminated in a fight, shortly before the diagnosis. We were supposed to have a business meeting, and he was late. He showed up looking shabby, his commitment to the job of being Clara once again dubious. I yelled... I barely recognized the sounds coming out of my mouth, the way my voice got so high and shrill, but there it was. We didn't talk for a while after that. My offer to help with the prescription was my way of apologizing, but Ceecee's financial situation means I'm hardly equipped to shower money on him, so I once again expressed my desire to see him take things a bit more seriously, at least as a way of making money. Since December, he's taken on a few modeling gigs and acted very professionally, and our friendship has been mending ever since.

I definitely saw a change in his demeanor since he started on the pills. He was worried they'd brainwash him, but as far as I can tell, they're just helping him cope. It's not blocking out all the stuff he hates about being a woman -- I share many of the same complaints -- but it's certainly dulling the intensity he feels them. He can go out in the world, even talk to men without feeling ashamed. What's more, we've rebuilt a certain level of trust, which is good, because I had a favor to ask him.

We went out for coffee. I've been a little worried about running out of things to talk about. He's not interested in hearing about work, and there's never anything going on with him that I don't really know about. He's also really dodgy when I try to talk about our predicament, because he thinks just because I've been to a hairdresser and always wear a bra that I've "given in" to being a girl. I tried to ease into the conversation by talking about that weekend's Pats game, but he was just pissed about not being able to see it.

During one lull, he asked if I ever wondered what he looked like naked. I rolled my eyes. "I've seen naked girls, Zane."

"I'd show you, y'know. If you wanted to see. Unless you're into dudes now."

He was clearly messing with me. I tried to suppress my irritation. He went on, "There's this one chick I live with, Leslie? She's really into this other dude in our house, Marc. She's pretty hot, too. I wouldn't mind hitting that."

I grumbled, "I doubt she's into girls." That shut him up. I told him we actually had business. At the end of the month, we're doing this event for the agency. It's a bit of a mixer, really. There's going to be a lot of clients there, a lot of casting people, photographers, industry types and other bigwigs. I've been trying not to tank Clara's career, and it would be a step in the right direction to get Zane out to it.

"Will there be booze?"

"Yeah, sure... but you're gonna have to go easy. We don't know how that stuff reacts with your medicine."

"I'll be fine," he said like it was no big thing.

I sense trouble. It's not that I need anything from him other than his presence, and hopefully staying out of trouble, but it would be nice not to have to worry about that second part.

Greg/Alexis: The Silent Treatment

2012-01-18T00:39:00.002-05:00

I think sometimes the reason I have long layoffs from writing in this blog is because I like not having to think about what's happened to me. If youll notice I'll almost always blog frequently after getting a new body, and just slow down towards the holidays, picking up again when its time to go back to the inn. Thats probably because sometimes I like to just live my life and not have to think about my past ones or any future ones directly.

Things were going great for me the last month and a half. I had a nice house, a great job, a new car thanks to the insurance finally coming through on the Range Rover that got crushed by Hurricane Irene, friends, even Malinda was pleasant.

She had finally gotten out of her post transformation funk in December and it made life a lot easier around here. She actually started doing her share of the cleaning and even cooked on weeknights when I had to work. Whats even more amazing is that she began leaving the house. At first it was during the day to run errands but soon she began going out to see movies and try restaurants in town and even with me and some friends to bars on the weekends. It was like she had gotten over her intense fear of being seen as Sharon Barco. I think going to meet Todd and Bryan helped immensely, because it allowed her to be herself and I think she made the connection that she could still be herself in someways even if people thought she wasnt.

Of course, with things going so well for me, it was only a matter of time before they blew up...

The holiday season actually wasnt stressful at all for us, because we basically stayed in together. Neither of us had any desire to meet Sharon or Alexis' parents or have to act as wife and wife in front of family so we told her body's parents were were going to my body's parents and vice versa. There were phone calls on the 25th but other than that nobody seemed to be the wiser.

The trouble started on new years eve. A couple we were friends with, Alan and Tia, were having a party at their house and really wanted us to come because they hadnt seen us in awhile. I broached the subject carefully with Malinda, because while she had come out of her shell, this would mean being Sharon around people that knew her as such and she'd have to play the part a little more.

To my surprise, she agreed instantly. Apparently New Years Eve is one of her favorite holidays and she went and bough a whole new outfit just for the occasion. Just a pair of black leggings and a red turtleneck. It was tight fitting, which was Malinda's way of looking sexy in the cold. Short skirts and cleavage werent exact a good idea when it was 29 degrees out. I swear that girl seriously underestimated how cold it gets in the North.

Anyway we were indoors most of the night because of the snow, but we managed to fake it. We stuck together mostly because there were a lot of people we didnt recognize that we were supposed to. Fortunately when people drink a lot of conversations dont go beyond "How are you I havent seen you in forever" and of course being girls we also had to pose for pictures with people who hadnt seen us in awhile. There must be at least 100 pictures up on facebook of that night.

Anyway, the trouble began at the stroke of midnight. The champagne had been poured and people were counting down. Once 2012 got here we all shouted happy new year and everyone around us who was in a couple was kissing. Something in the moment caught us up because I looked at Malinda for a couple seconds, and she looked at me in the same way, and we kissed.

It wasnt just a peck on the cheek, it lasted a good ten seconds. It was the first time I'd kissed anyone since I was Deb, and I imagine Malinda was on a similar drought. It felt good and we pulled away and looked at each other unknowingly.

All of a sudden her face changed. I glint of anger shone in her eye. I thought she was going to slap me. "Im sorry" i whispered. "Take me home. Now." She said through gritted teeth.

The ride home started out in silence, which I foolishly attempted to break by saying. "I'm sorry, I just got caught up in the moment." This of course unleashed her fury. "You KNOW I didnt want to do that. You KNOW I think its wrong. How long have you been waiting to do that? Is this just some sort of sick fantasy of yours." and and all sorts of other angry questions and statements about how I'm such a jerk for doing that to her.

What's followed has been two weeks of silence. No football bonding. No going out together. She still goes out on her own, with some friends I'm not really close to, which is good in a way because she hasnt reverted back to being a hermit. And she still cleans the house, I think to avoid having to argue with me over that. Truth be told I'm not too eager to start a fight with her. I've put in 4 good months trying to get her acclimated and she kissed me just as much as I kissed her, as much as she'll never admit that.

I'm just hoping she doesnt stab me in my sleep.

-Greg

Todd: Home for the Holidays

2012-01-06T22:03:00.000-05:00

Home, in this case, being both Toronto and this blog.

Some stuff has happened since I last checked in, although not all of it is really all that noteworthy. Somebody Else is, if not totally dead, then at least on hiatus. Truth is, we were really stretching it by running as long as we did after Bry and Shel's breakup, but the touring band experience was too good an opportunity for any of us to pass up, with or without the opportunity to meet up with some of our Inn people. And Bry and I genuinely do enjoy playing together, but the time on the road was tense enough that I'll be happy to just put the dream away for a while.

Shelby, obviously, is not into it, and without a drummer we're just two guys with guitars, not a band. She was fitting in well, but the relationship drama was impossible to navigate. She and I both went back to work at the store, and she's picking back up at school this semester. Now, they ended their relationship on good enough terms that finishing (and repeatedly extending) the tour wasn't a problem, but they were not keen on seeing each other after we got back. So on the one hand I live with Bryan and he's my best friend. On the other, I work with Shelby and she's been a good friend since before they dated.

Alia and I ended up going to a party at a house near the University campus where some of Shelby's friends live. We weren't going to go along, since Bry wasn't able to go, but he got sick and we all figured, no sense in hanging around the house if we don't need to. The night ended up being lame, we weren't in the mood to put up with college kid shenanigans. We're starting to get a bit old, I guess. Shelby was hanging out with her friend Reggie, who was giving us the hairy eyeball for some reason, I guess he knew we were friends with Shelby's ex. We ended up leaving at 11:30 after Shelby and Reggie turned the night into a long drunken make-out session. Alia and I spent midnight on the subway, crawling into bed together at 1.

She nuzzled into my arms, and I muttered, "Hey... you should move in."

She looked me in the eye to determine whether I was just drunkenly rambling, or if I meant it. I did, of course. This is the most serious we've ever been. Neither of us know if we believe in marriage, but it feels right to start a new direction. We've been talking about it ever since.

Shelby, meanwhile, was completely embarrassed by the makeout session we witnessed. She doesn't know if it's too soon after Bryan, if she's just vulnerable, what he feels, etc, etc. Kids stuff. The kind of stuff that just amuses me to hear now.

-Todd

"Ellie": Living With Secrets

2012-01-05T22:06:00.004-05:00

There are things about being Ellie that are easy, and there are parts of being her that aren't.

First off, high school just isn't fun. I never went in my old lives, I had to grow up quick and learn on my own. Being a 14-year-old girl in a more mature body meant that I had a moment when I realized I could either take control and educate myself, or coast on my looks and become a "dumb girl." As a result I missed out on a lot of learning that people are supposed to at least try to learn... I still can't do math worth a damn and don't know anything about science. But I was a real bookworm and loved things like history and geography.

So even though I feel like I'm past all this, and mentally way more mature than anyone in my class, I keep coming up against my limitations to the point where I've considered getting a tutor. I'm tired of being frustrated by my classes, because right now that's pretty much my entire life. That and getting home, watching TV, and ignoring everyone but the internet.

I'm kind of a loner. I didn't used to be, and when I was Sam I had a really tough time being on my own (to he point where it probably seriously damaged me) but somewhere along the way I realized I was probably meant to be more alone than not. I obviously don't fit in with others. I don't want to. I wish I was different, I wish I could just slip into it like Emily, but it's not going to happen.

Emily. I still really care about her. I hope she knows. I see her all the time at school but we hardly talk because she's made friends with people I don't really like, and I'm not going to pretend to be nice to them just so I can be with my girlfriend. Yeah, I said it, deep down, I'm still the person she dated and she's still the girl I liked. Those feelings won't go away, which is so strange. I remember how Tanya and Melanie used to be a couple before they became sisters, and it just tore them apart... they didn't "break up" because they were pretending to be sisters. They broke up because one of them completely lost interest in the idea of a relationship with a woman. The fact that I haven't scares me. I know Bryan, when he was Ellie, had the same sort of interests, but I just didn't expect it to come over me like this. It's not that I stare at all the girls, it's just when I see her, it's like I'm still a guy.

Life at home is... lame. Like I said, I don't do much, I don't even have to work. My "dad," formerly Tanya, has really grown into his role... I don't ask exactly how into it he is, but he keeps the role up even when we're alone. I call him "Dad" and he tries to parent me, which I... don't like. I mean, how can I take him seriously? This time last year he was a 20-year-old girl having constant emotional breakdowns. "Mom" seems to like him fine. She's none the wiser.

Which brings me to my last point, which is this Donna lady, and the true nature of my life as Ellie. Supposedly, last year, a guy named Ernie was living Ellie's life, meaning the real Ellie is still out there somewhere. And living as her "dad" was a woman named Donna, a lady from the neighborhood. I've met her a few times, when the parents have her family over, and I've read about her on the blog from Todd's times as Anne-Marie, but she's never said anything. She acts like nothing ever happened, so I don't know what any of it means.

I guess it doesn't make a difference, but I'm dying to know how this lady ended up taking the trip, if she's in her own body, what it all means. Sometimes I feel like my life is made up of secrets I can't tell and questions I can't ask.

Lisa/Eve: Behind the Scenes

2011-12-22T21:25:00.004-05:00

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

2011-12-17T03:08:00.001-05:00

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

2011-12-01T15:55:00.002-05:00

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.

2011-11-25T20:08:00.001-05:00

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

2011-11-23T01:36:00.003-05:00

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

2011-11-14T21:14:00.007-05:00

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.

2011-11-08T20:14:00.007-05:00

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

2011-11-04T20:06:00.007-04:00

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

2011-10-21T20:07:00.000-04:00

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

2011-10-20T20:40:00.005-04:00

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.

2011-10-13T21:25:00.001-04:00

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.

2011-10-11T00:13:00.003-04:00

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

2011-10-03T21:11:00.004-04:00

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...

2011-09-27T00:11:00.002-04:00

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

2011-09-23T20:52:00.004-04:00

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

2011-09-16T00:47:00.003-04:00

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

2011-09-02T21:31:00.003-04:00

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

2011-08-28T19:35:00.003-04:00

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

2011-08-23T02:06:00.002-04:00

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

2011-08-22T13:25:00.014-04:00

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

Tori: Dive in

2011-08-17T22:03:00.008-04:00

It feels a little insensitive to be posting about my relationship while there are people now posting on the blog who are -- essentially -- me, two years ago.

But I'm not that person anymore, and I can't promise any of you will be in two years, and I certainly can't promise any of you will be where I am in two years. Truthfully, I hope you all get your bodies back, and that if you can't, well, you would be very lucky to enjoy your lives as much as I do mine.

What I'm saying is, if you're new to this... maybe skip this entry. I'm supportive, but I do live my own life.

And that life has taken me into the awkward early phases of my nice new relationship.

We fumbled a bit on the follow-up. I'm used to being the girl now so I just expected he would call me, and I kept having to remind myself "Okay, he's just waiting a few days," like all guys do. But I was hoping he would skip over that because we're friends already, we're close, we should be past that.

I mean hell, right? This isn't some blind date, this isn't meeting and flirting and playing a game of who can seem cooler and make the other one want you. Right? We should both know the deal. We're us. We should be solid. But somehow, we can't get around the communication difficulties.

So Raine, still house sitting for her parents, hosted the annual pool party. I invited Mae along, but she pointed out that Raine's younger brother was her ex, and that might not be a great scene. Fair enough. I let her have the apartment for the day. In the end it was a smart idea, because Ed was there with a girl and I didn't want to see Mae's reaction to that.

I had asked Alex along too of course, and he gave me a strange wishy-washy answer. It's always hard to get him to come out to events involving Raine, Danny and others. I don't know why. I try to incorporate him into the whole group of friends, but he's resisting. So just as I'm ready to get mad at him, he says he promises to show up, later.

This was an irritating compromise, but I went with it, muttering angrily to myself. It feels like there's still a lot I don't know about his life or what he's doing when I'm not around. I try to push that out of my mind, not to be a clingy girlfriend or anything but I have a right to know, don't I?

So I got there around 1 in the afternoon and spent much of the day snacking and lying poolside in my bikini, wishing I had a man to lavish attention on me while I fine tune my tanlines and people horse around in the pool, including much of our social circle, Sara and Thom, and a few people I should know better by now but haven't made an effort, people left over from the original Tori's life.

We drank, we ate, I avoided going in the pool because I wasn't having much fun and just wanted to relax. Eventually I got pretty drunk and fell asleep. By the time I woke up, it was sundown, everyone had moved inside to dry off and eat more.

Alone in the backyard, I decided to dip my toe in the pool. It was nice. I walked over to the diving board and leaped in feet first. Very refreshing.

I pulled myself out and did a few more dives. It was in the course of this that my bikini top came... untied. Maybe my dives were just too intense.

I decided, hell, I'm alone out here, why not? I fished my top out and slung it onto the pool side and began doing topless laps.

Just then, I heard the gate open, and who should appear but the man himself, Alex.

I immediately pushed myself up against the edge of the pool to coyly guard my bare chest. "Well look who finally decided to show up?"

"Just like I said I would," he said with a smirk.

"Why not dive in? Water's nice."

"Oh I don't know..." he said, "I just ate a few hours ago, and they say you're supposed to wait 12 hours after eating to prevent cramps."

I laughed, "I think you got that turned around."

"Maybe. Why are you alone?"

"I keep asking myself the same question, especially when I'm supposed to have a boyfriend."

"Ooh, good one."

"If you see him, let him know I'm waiting."

"Maybe he just doesn't like swimming."

"Does he likes these?" I asked and backed away from the wall to give him a peek.

"He does..."

"Then maybe he should come in and get a better look."

"Or maybe he could wait for her to come out..." and with that, he picked my bikini top up by the strings and flung it further away from the pool.

I screamed out, "You jerk! Now I'm never coming out."

"Well then you're gonna get all pruney."

Slowly, I pulled myself up onto the ledge and let him get a good look at me. "Happy now?"

"Much happier..."

"I can tell," I said, looking down at the bulge in his shorts.

I was shivering, so I pressed myself against him. As he went to kiss me, I held my hands against his chest...

And pushed him right into the pool. Shoes, jeans and all.

He stayed under for a moment, then when he finally surfaced, started splashing, crying out, "I can't swim, I can't swim!"

A moment of panic seized me and I jumped back in the pool. "Don't struggle!" I said, pulling him back over to the shallow end. "You can stand now. Is that better? Oh, God I'm so sorry."

"Yeah, yeah," he gasped. "I mean, don't worry... I was a lifeguard." He said with an evil grin.

"You asshole!" I dunked him down under the water. He struggled a moment, then started tugging at my bottoms. That was when I let go and raced over to the deep end.

He followed, unbuckling his wet pants and tossing them and his shirt over to the poolside area. When he came over to me, I was ready to stop playing. We started to kiss, floating in the water. With the water, he gave my boobs a really authentic motorboat. Things were going even further when I heard the back door slide open.

Raine appeared before us. "Sorry to interrupt... but there's big news. Thom and Sara just got engaged!"

I stopped what I was doing and pulled myself out of the pool. "Oh my God I'm so embarrassed, Raine would you hand me my towel?"

Without averting her eyes from me, she chucked a towel my way. "Jeez, Tori, such a show off."

I dried off and went in to congratulate it. It was such a weird moment, because I've known them and loved them since I became Tori, I've seen the entire span of their relationship... in fact, it was at Raine's house that I walked in on them having sex before they even had a relationship!

But for the rest of the night I was quiet. As much as I enjoy my life, I wonder what's going to happen down the road. Suddenly all the stability I thought I had was shaken up because I realize I can't go on like this forever. Tori's only 24, but I'm nearly 30 and I just... well I need to go back to enjoying what my life is like today instead of worrying about the future.

I was a bit quiet. I let Alex drive me home and asked if he wanted to come up. He declined, but I reminded him that having a girlfriend means you should want to spend more time with her. He said sorry for being awkward about it, and agreed to come up, but we didn't do anything by watch a movie on the couch and make out some. Mae was already asleep. He went home around 1.

Greg/Alexis: Name Calling

2011-08-17T00:51:00.002-04:00

Something I've learned from being now 4 different people in my lifetime is that somethings take longer to get used to than others. I think the central theme of this blog was originally how difficult it is to get used to living life as the other sex, and I'll admit, that was probably the biggest and most obvious thing to get used to. Things just feel different and it takes awhile for it to be 2nd nature. It definitly is for me now. I've been female for a long time now and I think if I woke up tomorrow in my old body I'd find it weird as hell.

Body shape is a big difference too. I've been all shapes and sizes. From Priya (Tiny), to Deb (Flabby) To Alex (Fit) and each time you have to react to your body parts being different sizes even though their functionally the same as the ones you had before. Butt size is a big thing. Sitting down is something we all take for granted and we all have this expectation of when our behind is going to hit the chair. If its higher or lower we're slightly surprised. When you all of a sudden lose or gain a few inches/padding to that area, the whole thing changes.

The physical stuff is easy compared to the mental stuff. Youre brain eventually gets used to the neural patterns and you start to adapt to the new shape. But the mind itself doesnt change, or at least not critically. Sure it's flooded with a new batch and level of hormones to deal with but it's still you inside.

What got me thinking and musing was something that happened today. I failed to turn and answer when "my" name was called by someone who knows me. A name is a pretty personal thing. Its drilled into your head you whole life. For 20+ years people called me Greg and I still turn and look when people call it out in public. You cant imagine how hard it is to subconsciously answer to another name out of the blue. This was especially hard when I was a teacher and one of the kids would keep saying "Ms. Patel" 2 or 3 times before I remembered "Oh wait, that's me".

I was reminded of this phenomenon when I was out shopping today, buying groceries even though I have a full time job (*coughs* lazy wife *coughs). When someone practically screams in my ear "ALEX"

I turn and see a woman about my age and height wearing a low cut tank top, blue jeans, designer glasses and a very short haircut reaching over to give me a hug. Clearly this was some friend but I had not idea who. I know its mean to stereotype but she looked like a lesbian, was she an ex? Was she a friend, I know that a lot of times gay people form a tight community. I went into my now familiar "youre-supposed-to-know-this-person-so-fake-like-you-do" mode.

"I havent seen you or Sharon since you went on Vacation, I thought maybe you two liked the coast so much that you moved there"

I chuckled awkwardly "Yeah, but I couldnt leave the excitement of Vermont behind"

We chatted for about 15 minutes while I finished my shopping (she followed me). I managed to BS my way through it. Basically told her that me and Sharon were both really busy with work and regrettably weren't socializing lately. She gave me a few facts about things and people I had no idea about before we parted with her saying that we should totally play tennis sometime.

I called the real Alex later that night after she had put her new kids to bed and she had me go through her facebook friends and link her to the profile of the woman I met, which is brilliant.

Apparently the woman is named Annabelle Maclean and she's a college friend of Sharon and Alexis. Gay, yes but totally platonic with the both of them. Turns out she and Alex are occasional tennis partners. Alex recommended that I hang out with her because she's fun as well as the fact that being social hermits for a year would be pretty damaging to their lives.

I think I'm gonna take her up on that advice because I'm starting to get cabin fever. Malinda may still be getting used to the whole new body new life I'm scared to impersonate someone but this isnt my first rodeo. I'm ready to meet new people. When I decided to become a "Traveler" and take on a new life and body every year I did it so I could have new experiences and meet new people, something I'm not doing a lot of living with a wet blanket like Malinda.

So this weekend I'm going to play tennis, poorly. But I'm going to enjoy myself. Ive actually been dying to test the athletic potential of this body so this will be good for me.

Also on a blog note, I held off on posting the last couple of weeks because Alia told me that there were new writers sending her emails. I wanted to give the readers time to get used to their stories as well as for the writers to be able to post their stuff without it being buried once they got their acccounts.

To our four new "victims" I say welcome and hopefully this is only a one year adventure for you all.

-Greg

Lisa: Eve

2011-08-15T16:25:00.003-04:00

I didn't ask for this did I?

Okay, I feel shitty, like I don't have a right to complain because, look at what just happened to two of my best friends. To be honest, I'm kinda jealous of them, because if you had to be someone else, wouldn't it at least be interest to turn into the opposite sex? They get to learn so much. What do I get? A big reset on my life. They're at least in control. If I have to be "Eve Christopoulos" I have to go to school, live in a dorm with other people and basically give up control.

Okay, my real life isn't anything to be jealous of, but I'm worried I'm just gonna tread over the same path as I did before. Maybe I'll make the most of this opportunity. Maybe I'll waste it. I don't feel good. I don't want to get this girl stuck in a rut but I have no idea how to do things differently.

But we're all sort of forming a support system for each other. Shaun stands on his own... regular guy as regular guy, a shoulder for me to lean on. Zane leans on Anthony: Anthony seems to have the "girl" thing in hand, or at least is hiding his own panic well. He's such a "together" guy that losing his body barely flapped him. Anthony has me to look to as a role model, if he needs it. We sat down and he asked me some very forthright questions about what to expect. I gave him my best answers on how to treat his body. We're sisters now. "Charlotte's" Blackberry was already exploding. We need to get to California pronto, it seems.

To say nothing of the rest of the people here, meeting new "spouses" or saying goodbye to their own loved ones. We're one party that became another party. That's... something to be grateful for I guess.

Then I look back over at Zane and I think how dumb it is for me to complain. Sorry, buddy. I'm here for ya.

Zane: I guess this is what it's like

2011-08-14T02:11:00.006-04:00

No choice but to get used to it now... ladies, I'm one of you.

That's a freaky thought. I've had a week to get used to it, but it still doesn't make sense to me. I wake up and I think I'm still me for a split second, then my hand reaches over and pats my breast and... woop. There it is.

I was the last one to open up a suitcase. Anthony was first, showing what a good sport he is. Also he needed to find a pair of glasses because I guess his girl-body has vision problems. Shaun and Lisa followed suit because even though they're in strangers' bodies, they're not all that different. I just laid in bed all day overheating in my sleepwear trying to pretend it was all some sick dream.

Before I even read the letter I was not a fan of this chick. She did not pack any jeans or slacks or what I would call "sensible" underwear. I guess it's too much to ask that a girl wear boxers, but all I'm left with are these little triangles of fabric. I looked at these things thinking "these things are gonna choke me to death down there" but no, they slipped on nice and snug. There was nothing really "guyish" to wear, it was all summer dresses, light, billowy, flauncy things with girly patterns on them. Anthony convinced me to put one one just to see how it felt. I felt like a guy in a dress. He said I looked fine but I felt ridiculous. I'm not used to showing a lot of skin, so these wee thin straps over my shoulders, and the way it just barely comes up over my chest... I look down and I can see right down between my... my thingies.

Boobs.

I don't want to have them.

I love them, I do, on women. They're great to look at and I can't deny the longer I have a set of my own the more I cup them and rub them and smoosh them, but then a feeling goes through my body and I remember these are ATTACHED to me and that's not right. They feel inconvenient to jam into these stupid bras and dresses, even though they're not that big. They're just these little bobbles of flesh that bounce a bit when I move too quickly.

So let's talk about this woman. Clara, 24... a model from California. And I would think "Hey if I have to live someone's life, it seems really easy to be someone who's just hot for a living." But it sounds like a lot of stress, because half her letter to me was intricately describing her lifestyle, workout routines, diet, beauty regiments, blah, blah... as my eyes scrolled down this lengthy list of directions on hos to be this girl, I just felt sick. Like I wasn't in charge of anything anymore. Claustrophobic. She's in control of me. There's nothing I can do.

We're going to California tomorrow and I'm taking a break from writing out my own letter to let you know about me.

Anthony: Straightening out the chaos

2011-08-11T19:13:00.006-04:00

None of us can seem to put this situation into words. Having pored over this blog for the past couple of days, I sense you all have as good of an understanding as you can as to what has just happened to us. I wish we had had any sort of warning, but how can you? Especially since, so they say, anyone told about the curse will be in disbelief.

I was running in control mode all day Sunday. Realizing my body had changed, I suppose, sent me into a headspace of solving problems and making sure everything was OK with my friends. I knew I was a female now, but I didn't let that register with me until it was okay to indulge a little personal panic. I had to keep calm for everyone else. The first thing I did was check on Zane. He was understandably freaks. He had been changed, like me, into a girl. At first I thought all of us had been changed into opposite-gendered bodies, but when I visited Shaun and Lisa, I found that was not the case. And so the mystery of the Trading Post Inn began to unravel. Before long it was something we could wrap our heads around.

That doesn't mean I like it, but I can't deal with that right now. Before I can worry about myself, I need assurance that everyone is healthy and safe and... I don't know, adjusting, if need be.

After I confirmed what had happened with Shaun and Lisa, we went about figuring out the missing pieces of our "new lives." Lisa and I have wound up in the bodies of a pair of sisters, albeit ones separated by ten years. Lisa is a girl named Eve, who is going into her first year at college. "Doug" you already know about, and Zane is his "sister," a woman named Clara.

I've been keeping an eye on him. For the first day he didn't move much, probably as much due to hangover as to shock and not wanting to "deal with it." Finally, when he drifted back asleep I sneaked back to my own room.

I was reluctant to go rooting through this woman's luggage, but I knew nothing I had was going to fit me. Her figure is very... womanly and I was embarrassed to stay in my own clothes as long as I did because it must have looked pathetic. Even so, I had a hard time imagining myself picking out an outfit.

Her name is Charlotte Christopoulos, "Ceecee," a junior modelling agent. Clearly not a model herself. When I finally got a look at myself naked, I was not thrilled.

I don't want to use the word "fat." I'm a sensitive guy and I know that women come in all shapes. "Fat" implies there's a giant gut bulging out, just rolls everywhere. "Curvy" is the correct term... she's got a bit of a belly curving over the waistband of the underpants, and a very wide set of hips... a big bum to sit on... but that's what they say "real women" are supposed to look like, isn't it? It comes with a very large set of boobs hanging down, blocking my view of my feet. When I found a bra to wear, the cups were 34-F's. And I think it may be too small. I wedged my tits in and they really felt like they were on display... I really understand why they call it a "rack."

I tried to squeeze myself into a set of jean-shorts, but that wasn't comfortable... they rode up in the front which is not only tight, but unnatural feeling for me as I'm used to that area featuring very different geography, of course.

With a sigh, I switched out for a skirt and tanktop, walking and sitting awkwardly the rest of the day. Zane took a look at me and asked how I could be wearing these clothes, and I said there wasn't much option and he was going to have to deal with it sooner than later. Weakly, he looked up at me and asked, his voice taking a girlish tone, "Is it gonna be okay?"

I nodded, "Yeah, I think so," not sure whether I believed it.

Shaun: Tell me what to do

2011-08-10T22:29:00.006-04:00

The others are too freaked out to talk. Once we found out this e-mail was connected with this blog I asked "Alia" to refrain from posting any of our correspondence until we had our own accounts set up and were ready to talk.

I think I'm probably the only one who's in a place to say anything, so here's what happened.

Lisa and I were in bed Saturday night. I was already asleep, she stumbled in drunk. I offered to take the floor, but she was pretty belligerent, saying "Head to toe, we're going head-to-toe. Go back to sleep." Right.

We wake up at the crack of dawn when she falls out of bed. I hear the thump and when I look over, I see her on the floor... I mean I don't see her, but I see her hand waving, "It's all right!"

She pulls her up and suddenly I get a glimpse of her and something's not right. "Lisa," I say, "Are you all right?"

"Yeah," she says. We come face to face, and she gives me this look like she doesn't know who I am.

Neither of us had any idea what the other person was looking at. So there was this initial reaction of "Who are you, I'm me, what are you talking about, what's going on..." I guess it hit us differently than the others, because even though the faces in the mirror were different, they weren't drastic changes.

The girl I was looking at was now a much younger form, thinner and perkier, with long dark hair rather than Lisa's shoulder-length blonde do. My own face had changed pretty noticeably, too. Somehow, my beard had shaved itself off overnight, like her I lost a few years off my skin and face... my hairline moved forward some, my hair lightened from its chestnut brown tone to a lighter, more gingery tone. At the time, the changes were strange enough, but we didn't sense the full depth of the weirdness going on until we heard a knock at the door. We stopped in our tracks, silently wondering if we would open it to find answers. Instead, more questions.

What I saw was a short, round-figured woman with rosy cheeks, with similar long dark hair and features to Lisa's. She looked back and forth between us. She turned to me and asked, "Lisa?"

I pointed at the girl by the bed. The woman in the doorway seemed struck. Seeing them side by side, they were clearly sisters. The older woman looked up at me gravely. "Shaun."

"Yeah. Do we... know you?"

She hesitated a moment before identifying herself as Anthony. I didn't want to believe it. Whatever had happened to us had affected everyone else at the inn similarly... even more strangely at that. My best friend for a decade, a former collegiate athlete, standing before me as a woman half-dressed in ill-fitting men's sleep clothes. I was too stunned to ask him anything about what had happened. I didn't know if he could answer, I didn't want him to.

He sat on the bed and swept his long locks out of his face. "It doesn't make sense." He had clearly already been thinking a while. "Between me and Zane, we both changed into... we're both like this, I thought you guys would... I mean, the pattern doesn't add up. I thought everyone was being changed... like this."

"You're a girl." Lisa finally said. Anthony nodded without glancing over.

"How did this happen?" I blurted out, trying to be constructive.

"I don't know," Anthony said, "I'm not sure it matters. I thought we were being changed randomly, but looking at Lisa... there's a similarity there, right?"

"Right," I answered back.

Anthony began to deduce there were specific people we had become, and that was when Lisa remembered the bags. I can't believe she hadn't mentioned them earlier, the mysterious discarded luggage in our room's closet. There was only one set, though. We opened it up to find it was a man's... mine. In it were, of course, better-fitting clothes, and a number of personal papers, and a letter attempting to explain the situation.

Now that I know this e-mail is connected to this blog, I don't need to explain to you how the wheels in our heads started turning. It quickly occurred to me that I was being told about my new life.

The man in question is Doug Green, a manager for Home Supply Depot from Santa Monica, California. There weren't too many extra details beyond that, aside form the fact that his wife is back there waiting for him.

That made me have to sit down. On first reading it, it just seems like somebody's life is being described to me. It isn't until you get to a detail like that that you pause and realize you're being told about the life you are going to lead. Just a few weeks ago, my fiancee broke my heart. Now I'm suddenly a married man? Heavy.

I'm trying not to show my emotion in front of the others, though. As soon as we became aware of the situation it was clear, even before we found out about their letters, that Anthony, Zane and even Lisa had more on their plate. But I can't help but admit to you that it's a lot to digest.

So I'm keeping my mouth shut a little, out of respect. We're just waiting to figure out what our next move is.

ZANE - WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK

2011-08-07T05:02:00.000-04:00

OKAY OKAY OKAY I'm sobered up a bit now. It's nearly 5 AM and I'm afraid to leave this room so I thought I would send you another e-mail kindly asking WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON???

I was feeling weird until I passed out. I was asleep for maybe an hour when I heard a knock at the door. I stand up to answer it and my legs give out from under me. My clothes feel baggy, but I hold my waistband and slowly walk across the room. When I open the door I'm looking down at this chick dressed a guy's t-shirt and boxers. I can barely see her in the darkness and for a second I think it's Lisa, but Lisa's blonde.

"Hello?" I say in a whisper, my throat scratchy from all the drinking I did last night.

"Zane?" she asks.

"Uh, yeah?"

"So it happened to you too."

"What happened?" I'm totally confused what this chick is going on about.

"This happened." She pokes me in the chest and walks past me into my room. And where she poked me, it feels soft, kinda spongy, kinda like... well, like a breast. Like a girl's breast.

I look down and I can kinda see them and I can kinda feel them hanging off my chest but they're not... I mean, I can't tell if I feel anything different. She walks through to my washroom and turns on the light and I just keep asking myself "Do I know this lady? What's she going on about?" rather than, you know, noticing what's going on with me. That happened a second later when she said "Come look, you idiot."

I follow her because I think something sexy is going on, or I'm having a really lucid, really freaky dream. She's staring at herself in the mirror. I turn and face the reflection and

THAT'S NOT ME.

I gasp. "What the FUCK." Suddenly I notice how squeaky my voice has gotten. Way too high.

In the mirror, I see us clearly. She's short, her head only comes up to my neck. Long dark hair, squinting at herself. I don't have time to really look at her face because I'm too busy looking at mine or at least where mine is supposed to be. But I don't see me.

I see a chick.

She's tall and thin and... pretty, I guess, but she's ME. I moved my hand in front of my face and it was like... like I was watching somebody else.

She was a girl though. Me. I'm the girl. I cup my hands over my breasts and I feel them... they can move and everything. They just barely fit in my hands but it's like I have my own tits growing off me! I scream out "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS WHO ARE YOU??"

And she looks up at me, totally calm and everything and goes "Zane. I'm Anthony."

Bullshit.

She doesn't look like Anthony. She doesn't sound like Anthony. She's dressed in his clothes but...

but...

shit. I look at myself again. I don't look or sound like me. Something happened.

I back away. I don't want to look. I don't want to see anything.

She starts pacing back and forth like Anthony does. Talking very confidently.

"Okay, let's get a handle on this. Overnight, we, our bodies, have been transformed."

"We've been transformed??" I repeat, not believing this shit.

"It's the only... explanation. It sounds crazy, but we're in our own rooms. I was in bed when it happened. Something startled me and I just woke up like this. In my own room, still in my own clothes. Zane, we've turned into girls."

I stare at her. "This is what I'd look like as a girl?"

"That's what you DO look like. Zane. This must have happened to everyone here."

"Well what about the girls? Did they turn into guys?"

"Potentially," he says. Or she says?

"Well do you think there's a way to undo this?"

"I don't know. How would I know?"

"I don't know! You seem to know what's going on!"

"Just because I'm calm, don't misunderstand, Zane, I'm just as confused as anyone. But freaking out isn't going to do us any good. Something happened to us that's beyond explanation. We might be stuck, or we might just need to stay like this for a little while."

So I'm asking YOU, TRADING POST EMAIL to please EXPLAIN THIS SHIT TO ME.

Ugh I can't even look at my dainty little hands while I'm typing this. Fuuuuck.

Zane - Werid stuff

2011-08-07T03:22:00.001-04:00

Okay so I'm a bit drunk so if i can't type my bad. Im usaully way better even when im drunk but my fingers feel weird. this whole place feels wierd. um. where Do i begin?

this E-Mail, like I never heard of a n independant cutsromer sevrice e-mail. I couldn't finf any reference to this email on the trading post site, so I dunno who you work for but let me tell yuo about my weekend.

Maine makes people do weird thigns. Take Lisa who's NEVER shown any intesret in me before. Weve known each other for years, years and if anthing, she's gotte nless intersted in me over time! She doesn't believe me but I told her she still looks like when we were in college. Last night we got to drinking and while Shaun and Anthony were off playing darts, me and her were going beer for beer pounding local brews and after about six she was looking really good, so I lean over and I dothe thing where I sweep some hair out of her eyes. Classic.

So she leans in and kisses me and we walk back up the beach to my room because shes sharing a room with Shaun. I thought that meant she was ghooking up with him!

But we get back to my room and start getting busy, but the second I get my hand up he shirt she backs off. "Sorry" she says, "but I need to stop before we do something I regret." Bleh. That sucked. Its been way too long since I touched breasts.

Anyway, Maine does weird things to people. Maybe it's the ocean air making people horny. Maybe that's just the alcohol. When I started this I could barely type (I'm writing in on an iPhone) but now my fingers feel less clumsy. Must be sobering up.

The people next door won't stop murmuring. That's another tyhing. These people, I hear their voiced all night I can barely sleep.

I think something made me sick. Maybe it was that local beer, or there was bedbugs in the sheets. I feel like I've got a rash -- can't stop scratching my arms and my scalp... but I don't feel any bumps.

I feel like I've got the most epic case of BSTL (Balls Stuck To Leg) ever. The rain is making it humid and my hair is getting all frizzy, I feel like I've got a cough stuck in my throat. Take a deep breath hold on. I cant get comfortable in this bed its wreckerd my back my muscles are all tense.

hold on I don't know how to end this email

Lisa- Regrets

2011-08-05T23:02:00.007-04:00

Dear Trading Post E-Mail,

Is it weird that I suspect you're not actually affiliated with the Inn? I hope not, because I feel kind of bold tonight (although that may just be the Crown and Coke I have sitting on the nightstand) and I wanna spill my guts a little.

My friend Shaun tells me he said a bit about what brought us here. About how his fiancee broke up with him before the wedding. When he couldn't get rid of the reservation, I came along because I needed to get out of my rut, but truth is, it's just reminding me about some mistakes I've made.

My time to get married came about five years ago. I was in my 20's and had been seeing him for only a year, so I thought it was too soon even though I really liked him. He took my rejection pretty hard, but I tried to keep the relationship going... he apparently never got over it. Over-emotional, which was his main failing, but otherwise he was a solid guy. Good job, nice hair, great car... guh, I'm driving myself crazy just remembering him.

It was dumb of me to turn him down, but I thought he'd propose again in time, when we were more certain. Our relationship lasted a few months more, then he decided his heart wasn't in it and off he went.

Now, of course, I realize my mistake. I haven't dated anyone seriously since him, and he's married with a kid. That could be me by now!

Well, that's my spilled milk to cry over.

I came along because I was hoping to meet someone. You never know. But it's hard to find guys to chat up when you're constantly surrounded by your male college friends.

It's getting brutal, but even Zane is starting to look decent to me. Shh, don't tell the others. Even Shaun, if I didn't know he would read too much into it, might deserve a pity fuck. But I've never been that girl to any of them, and that's a good thing.

Except now that I need something easy and fun.

Even if I end up regretting it later... which I almost certainly would! Oooof, I have said too much. Blame it on the drinks!

Shaun -- Trip of Fools

2011-08-04T22:33:00.001-04:00

Dear Trading Post Inn: Screw You.

This has got to be the worst trip ever.

A little background. Last Christmas, I proposed to my longtime girlfriend. We set the date for September. Unfortunately, our work schedules basically made honeymooning impossible, so we booked this non-refundable vacation in Maine as sort of a pre-honeymoon. It was going to be us and her brother Anthony and his girlfriend Rebbecca. Anthony and I are very close, he was going to be my best man. He's a really together guy, a VP for a Travel Agency. Very organized, and once you get to know him, pretty funny. We went to college together, and he introduced me to his sister.

Then in July -- as in two weeks ago -- she calls it off. Five years together gone because she's got cold feet. No matter how much I beg and plead, she won't hear me out or take me back. I guess you can't force someone to marry you if they don't want to.

So after all this grief and heartache and trying to figure out when I can get my stuff, I'm stuck with these tickets and reservations I can't seem to get rid of. Logic dictates they would just hand the reservations off to anyone else or, you know, just have some vacant slots in their stupid hotel, but no, apparently logic doesn't apply in Maine and I am honor bound to keep the reservation. Even if I don't show up, I'll be billed. That's bullshit, I'm sorry.

But here I am anyway on my lonely little non-honeymoon. Since the reservation was for two, I decided to invite my old college friend Lisa. She's cute and everything but I never really thought of her that way. Still, I know she's had a few negative experiences, so she keeps elbowing me and reminding me she's not a rebound. Yeah, Lisa, I know.

To top that all off? Anthony's girlfriend got food poisoning and her last-minute replacement, keeping with the "college reunion" theme, we brought our other buddy Zane along. He's had a rough time of his own, being unemployed for the last three years, aside from piecework and shit jobs. It's nice to get "the gang" back together, but under these circumstances, it's depressing as hell.

But I guess it could be worse. The weather's mild. We still all get along well. The beds seem comfy enough. The place has a certain rustic charm. I just need a lot of beer from now until we go home.

At least someone slipped this e-mail address under my door. Sorry for ranting, but you did say to "open up" about my Inn experience!

Yours,
Shaun Moran

Todd: Hit the Road

2011-08-03T20:29:00.002-04:00

Wow, long time no see!

It isn't that my life has been exceptionally interesting, quite the opposite. All spring I was finishing up at University, chasing after that pesky BA that's eluded me for nearly a decade.

And now that I have it... I don't really know what to do with my life. I still work at the store, I still play the occasional gig with Bry and Shelby, but all that... that's not a long-term plan. We can try to make the music thing work, believe me nothing would please me more, but all we can do is keep plugging along.

Sometimes Bry and I joke about going back to the Inn -- when Alia and Shel aren't around (since Shel wouldn't get it, and Alia woudn't hear of it,) -- and waking up in the as people who already have their lives laid out. That's the fantasy, that someone would tell us how to live and who to be. Isn't that pathetic? Well, the grass is always greener, because we already lived those lives, and we hated them.

But just when things were getting rough, and Bry was attempting to re-open contact with Ellie, this opportunity came up, not unlike the one that brought us to Maine to begin with. Our band -- the one that barely rehearses and didn't have a proper name -- was asked to fill in as an opening act for this local pop punk band that's touring the Northeast.

It seems like a pretty good deal, and it's been a lot of fun, but to make it worth our while we've had to book a few gigs of our own. We called up contacts, did exhaustive searches, and barely scrounged up enough gigs that we will have a reason to keep being out there until September.

The problem is, when people want to book you, they want a name to go along with it. This has been a point of contention between the three of us. Until last month, when Bry had a burst of inspiration. He chose something that meant a lot to both of us, as well as carrying meaning for people like Shelby who don't, and never will, know our true story.

Our new band name? Somebody Else.

I'm checking in quickly, because we hit the road for the border tomorrow morning. The tour's already passed through Southern Ontario, Mississauga, London, we just finished the Windsor show... we'll be swinging through Michigan, Ohio... obviously, there's a "zone" that extends westward from Maine and we'll be in Inn country most of the time, including stops in Philly and New York later this month. We'll be heading deep into New England, so any of you fine Inn folks that want tickets to a show, don't hesitate to ask.

I'll try to keep you updated, but it's hard enough getting time to sit down and think about any of this, let alone write about it. Still, I figure I owe it to myself and you guys to chronicle this new adventurous phase of my life.

Rock n' roll
-Todd

Greg/Alexis: Killing it with Kindness

2011-08-03T01:00:00.002-04:00

Once upon a time I was engaged to be married to my soulmate and if I had never had my life stolen by a cursed Inn, I would today be just past my 1st Anniversary. I dont know what married life is supposed to be like, but Amber and I had been living together for a long time and I knew how to successfully cohabitate with someone that you love.

My current situation, while legally a marriage, is not at all one. I dont expect it to be. It's what I like to call a "marriage by magic". We're to strangers thrown together and told to play like we love each other. Thats a difficult thing to do and I dont blame Malinda for hating it. A commenter told me that I should try being nice to Malinda. Which is what I was going to do anyway because I've dealt with a situation like this before.

My freshman year at the University of Chicago I was assigned a roommate blindly. Turns out mine was a Japanese student named Tashiro, who spoke broken English when he spoke at all and was very cold to me for the first two months.

After a long cold war of silently hating each other, Me and Tosh bonded when I bought a new video game system. Turns out he was really into video games and we were both really competitive. After countless all nighters full of mountain dew and vodka we finally had something to unite us. Tash and I stayed friends throughout college and even emailed after he went back to Japan to work for Nintendo. Now all I need to do is find that common ground with Malinda.

Tash's animosity stemmed mostly from the culture shock of going from Japan to the American Midwest. I think Malinda is going through similar shock going from Bitchy Texan to Gay Artist. Finding common ground with Malinda is difficult thought because she treats me with uneasy precaution. Ever since she found out that I was born male, she thinks I'm on some mission to live out a male fantasy of having lesbian sex with her, so every nice thing I do to her she immediately thinks I'm hitting on her. So any gesture of bonding and kindness has to be done innocuously and totally platonic.

This means the obvious flowers, candy, clothes and makeup are out of the question, which sucks because all girls, even me, like those things. On Last Sunday I decided to to a barbecue, which is a Texas tradition I think. I was grilling the meat but whenever I asked for her help or suggestions she kinda blew me off. Didnt seem to impressed with the meat either.

On Wednesday I tried to do "movie night" where I would bring home some free ice cream and we'd sit in front of the tv in our pajamas and watch a crappy chick flick, something that worked quite well for female bonding when I was Priya. Turns out I underestimated Malinda and she apparently hates chick flicks.

On Friday I made a little progress, I convinced her to leave the house. I think she got tired of being cooped up inside the house was getting to her so we went to see a movie. Captain America isnt as terrible as it looks or sounds and apparently she likes the superhero genre. We talked about movies on the way there and even had a normal convo during the movie. Altough at some point I think she thought it was too much like a date and closed up again. We rode home in silence. Still, baby steps.

Im still exiled to the couch but I'm working on moving a cot or something to her studio that she isnt using. Hopefully I'll find some common ground for us

-Greg.

Tori: First Date

2011-07-24T22:42:00.001-04:00

Reality check: I've been a girl for two years now. When this started I was scared of my own body, but by now I've learned what feels good, how to treat it right, and most importantly how to dress it.

Or so I thought.

Let me tell you, it was an ordeal trying to figure out what to wear for my first date with Alex. Last week, Philly was right in the middle of a heatwave that made my hair frizz out to epic proportions and made me want to wear as little as possible. But I had already embarrassed myself by being too forward with him. I want to show him I'm not rushing things but I'm also, well... good to go.

"I say slut it up," Mae advised me. She was lying on my bed reading Reddit on her laptop. Mae has been staying with me all month. Mom and dad thought it would be good since it'll be like a vacation and I live closer to her summer job. She's staying in Raine's room right now, because Raine is house-sitting as she often does in the summer. Mae has been a good houseguest, because unlike whenw e lived together our schedules don't clash and every so often I let her drink.

In response, I flung one of my bras at her. She plucked it off her head and held it to her own chest. "Wear a push-up bra so he doesn't realize you have wee-boobs."

In the past year or so, Mae has become one of the few girls I know that could get away with describing my rather ample chest as "wee." No, the girls aren't huge, but I know if I was still a guy I'd be hypnotized, and plenty guys are. Hers, though, have gotten almost unwieldy. In fact, her "growing up" years have been pretty good to her. What I envy about her is that she's embraced her body-type, that she's good-looking without being sticklike and knows it. She's a bit cocky about it perhaps, but her confidence is healthy. If I had been able to choose which girl to be, I would probably rather have landed in her body.

But of course, I have to live with what nature -- or rather a cursed Inn -- gave me, and you know, I haven't gotten any complaints yet. It's a lot of work, though.

Sadly, all that fretting got me only to the point where I admitted simplicity was best. I put on a black miniskirt and a white tanktop with a light overshirt and prayed for no pitstains.

The date itself... was fine. I don't know. He arrived at my door and I wanted so badly for it to have a "big date" feel, but it was really just like going to hang out with a friend. We went and saw X-Men at my insistence since I'm way behind on my summer comic book movies. It was probably the best X-Men movie since the first one. He got his arm around my shoulder, which I liked, but I was so engrossed by the plot that I completely forgot to make out with him.

After that, the date started to get... weird. We were having trouble breaking out of our "friend" zone. I mean, we've hung out plenty, but we just couldn't shift from buddies to... well, more.

Drinks helped with that. We went to the bar and I ordered, instead of a girly drink or cocktail, just a beer. I don't love the taste of beer, so I had to pace myself so I wouldn't try to throw myself at him again.

It worked. We began to loosen up, share a bit more. Alex, as much as I feel safe opening up to him (as much as I ever open up to anyone who doesn't know my secret) is hard to crack open himself, but he let it slip about how he used to be really awkward on dates and deep down inside was still the kind of guy who didn't know why anyone would want to be with him.

Awwwww!

I did want to jump him then and there, but... again, self-control was key. I wriggled in my seat and decided to play coy for once in my life. I smiled. I laughed. I played with my hair and touched his arm.

Suddenly I looked in his eyes and I felt it. That spark we'd been missing. It's like I switched something on inside him.

Suddenly I realized I really was the one with the power. He was the one fumbling with his words and awkwardly trying to make jokes to impress me. And I've had that before, with Buddy, but this time, with the attraction I had for Alex, it was... it was something else. Guys, it was hot.

He drove me home, and walked me to the door. "We should call it a night," I said, "We've got work tomorrow."

I could feel the desire - I think - burning inside him. How hard it was for him to walk away. But it was all he could do to pull me in for a goodnight kiss.

I think I'm winning at dating.

I watched him walk back to his car, and drive off. I went up to my apartment and saw Mae there on the couch watching Insidious. "How was the date?" She asked with a mouth half-full of popcorn.

"Fine," I sighed. "I'm going to bed now."

And I went to bed, but it was a good long while before I went to sleep. A gooooood long while.

It's hard holding back, but totally worth it. I'm doing this right. This is good.

Greg/Alexis: Have you tried turning it off and on again?

2011-07-23T00:10:00.001-04:00

The other day I was struck by the realization that this is my 4th body in 4 years. 4. Im pretty sure thats a record on the Trading Post Inn blog, and probably in the top 10% of human beings all time. Changing into someone else is something that most humans would never and could never think about dealing with, and here it is basically my midsummer routine.

Ive gotten used to new wardrobes, new voices, new hairstyles and makeup patterns, new cars, new cities, new friends, and new tastes. I think though, the thing that I hate having to deal with each time is having to get used to a new job.

I really wish I couldve swapped into a rich person where I didnt have to work. I wish I couldve gotten off easy as Todd did when he was Anne Marie. I would love a year off, sitting around doing nothing. (Although from what I can tell, Todd did that before he was Anne Marie too). Malinda got off easy. Her job title is offically "artist". No kidding, that's what Sharon's tax returns say. She paints things and sells them locally. She isnt exactly successful but it seems to be her calling. I wouldve loved to be able to paint all day. Although any art I made would probably come out dark and strange considering all I've had to deal with in my life.

Anyway, back on point. Alexis' (Im gonna use her full name despite the fact that nobody else does because there's another Alex in another posters life) vacation time finally ran out and I had to go back into her job at McAllister Dairies.

M.D. (Not the real name by the way, but close. I dont want this blog appearing on the companies google hits) is not just an ice cream maker as I originally thought, although that is their best selling product. Apparently they also do cheese and milk etc. because apparently dairy and maple syrup are what keep Vermont afloat. Anyway, this is a dairy corporation, and its offices are headed in Burlington.

Alexis' official title is "Chair of Information Technology" because she is apparently a whiz with electronics. That is why I took as much vacation time as possible, because this job scared the heck out of me.

When I was Priya I was a teacher, and yeah that should be more scary than IT, it was only kindergartners and I had a couple months to practice. (and I did a bang up job, Priya tells me).

Dee's job was basically processing paperwork for a major state university. Not exactly high level thinking (which is why Dee did it I bet). I mastered that within a week.

But IT, I was not prepared to deal with all kinds of networking, software, and hardware issues that may arise with over 100 computers. I mean, Im a child of the 90s and came of age on the internet. Heck, I'm blogging. I'm computer literate, but not even close to as advanced as Alexis and her computer science degree. You should see her home computers, theyre amazing. Besides the expensive alienware laptop with a biometric thumprint lock she has a top of the line office computer and one of the coolest gaming computers I've ever seen.

Anyway, after reading as much as I could on the internet, I took the Range Rover into work. IT is a small office on the 4th floor with about 5 people including Alexis. They're all nice guys, and I say nice guys because they are all male. Dorks is the word to describe them but they are nice dorks, and clearly there is no sexual tension in the room. Apparently they are all aware of my orientation and totally cool with it, makes for a relaxed atmosphere.

The first day was a major relief. Turns out Alexis' job as IT Manager is mostly management. Any and all computer problems are delegated and assigned to one of the other workers and they take care of it. Its mostly records and payroll and reports. And since I managed a whole damn hotel in a previous life, 5 geniuses is a cakewalk.

Anyone British and or worldly enough to know where my post title comes from sees the parallels. "Have you tried turning it off and on again" is a catchphrase from and English comedy called "The IT crowd" which is about a woman who knows nothing about computers who manages her lovably nerdy friends in the IT department. My life is not nearly as comical as hers but its nice to know that I'll be able to BS my way to a paycheck and not have to deal with living on the street.

On the whole Malinda front. I'm still exiled to the couch, and I say that not because I wanna sleep in the same bed as her, because I dont. Sharon's body is gorgeous but Malinda is on my nerves so much that the attraction is nullified. I'd at least like 3 days of the week though.

She's stopped randomly crying, at least from what I've seen. She doesnt paint though, so she spends most of her day watching TV and spying on her old life via Facebook. The place is pretty dirty though because she DOESNT clean. I dont know if she was dirty before, had a maid, or just doesnt care in this life, but I dont know if I can work 40 hours a week plus pick up after her.

I'll giver her a little more time to get over it though. Ive got enough to worry about without starting a confrontation.

-GregAlexis

Tori: Go For It

2011-07-18T23:59:00.003-04:00

I spent a few weeks being more confused about Alex (my Alex, not Greg's now body, obviously!) What was clear was that I was into him. What wasn't clear was what steps to take.

I've never been in this situation since being in this body. It's not hard for me to get guys' attention, and usually it was unwanted, but it was there when I needed it. I'd be lying if I didn't say my attraction to Alex was part of my decision to end things with Buddy. I thought I caught a hint of it here and there but since I broke up with Buddy, he's been pretty distant and I don't know what to make of it. I don't know if "reading guys" is something they teach girls in school, or if they're normally this baffled. I used to think we were pretty straightforward, but I don't know what to do.

I tried to keep things "business as usual" but interacting with him on a regular basis was getting painful. Whenever he would crack a joke, I'd try to laugh extra hard, and if a girl passed and he turned his head even slightly my chest would heat up with jealousy.

I was folding laundry Monday night, and I just... lost it. What am I doing here? Why am I living this life, wearing panties and having boobs and painting my nails, if I'm just going to sit around not getting what I want? I'm not just John Clifford with a pussy.

So I formulated a plan to drag Alex out to a club. I hate those places, but it's a good place to just get drunk and let yourself go. In general I don't dance, but I decided to wedge my tits into a nice tight dress and dragged him out for the night.

The plan... and I'm not proud of this... was basically just to get drunk and throw myself at him. But the more physically aggressive I got, the more he backed off. By the end of the night, I was feeling frustrated. I wondered if I had just messed up the entire situation. Not only that, but I had really made an ass of myself, pretty much making my attraction to him too obvious to ignore. I woke up the next morning feeling like a total asshole.

For a little while after that, I tried ignoring Alex altogether, but he came and broke the ice.

"So listen..."

"Look, you don't need to say anything. I'm an idiot. I shouldn't be so reckless with my friends. I hope I didn't embarrass you too much."

He chuckled, "You didn't. Not too much. I mean, I could've done with less groping." Oh man, did I grope the hell out of him. "But Tori, we're friends, so a little craziness is allowed."

I felt my throat get thick and my chest heat up again. "Friends," I repeated the word. "Look, Alex, I don't know what you're thinking, but I might as well tell you..." I began to tremble, I had to stick my hands in my pockets and slouch over like I was a teenage boy.

"This is embarrassing. That was my really sick way of trying to tell you I... like you."

Ugh, God, I felt like such an idiot. Very high school. Junior high, even.

He briefly seemed like he was taken off he guard, but quickly composed himself like he had been expecting this. "Yeah. I kinda figured. And I mean, Tori, you're great." Wince. "I love spending time with you." Teeth clench. "But I know you just got out of a serious relationship and I'd hate to think you're just jumping into something because it's convenient."

My feelings of fear and hurt were suddenly replaced with a need to defend myself. "Relationship? Buddy? That was... not as serious as you'd think," I kinda lied, but it was definitely problematic. "Alex, I've spent a lot of time by myself. I know what I want. I'm not rebounding. I actually... I mean, part of the reason I broke up with him was because I didn't want to leave you, because I... I'd like to be with you, okay?"

"You're sure about this?"

"Absolutely." I gulped. Part of me still worries this is a huge mistake.

"Let me think about it," he said.

The weekend passed, and I still hadn't heart from him. It was agonizing. I just kept freaking out and trying to reassure myself, preparing arguments if he came back saying we should just be friends... that if this was our friendship I was prepared to end it because I know I couldn't keep going. I don't know, it seemed drastic, but I was worried something drastic would be necessary.

Then today, while I'm at work, he texts me (from elsewhere at work) "So... dinner Thursday night?"

ASDFGHJGGG UNFF YES please.

I've never been this excited for a guy. Buddy took me a while to warm up to, and Leo was just a business arrangement. This one... I don't know, there's something special about him.

Greg/Alexis: Phone Calling

2011-07-07T22:36:00.003-04:00

So once Malinda and I settled in at the apartment, me basically just started taking inventory of all the things in our new lives. The distraction seemed good for her. I have to keep remembering what it was like for me when I first changed, but even then it was into someone I knew. She's a total stranger, and thats gotta be difficult for her.

The first morning after a nights sleep on the Barco's very comfy couch the first thing I did was pick up the phone and dial the number I had for Selena Bookman, of Minneapolis. She wasnt really Mrs. Bookman, she was in fact the real Alexis. A young boy picked up the phone.

"Hello"

"Hi, I'm looking for Selena Bookman"

"Who's calling"

"My name is Alexis Barco" (I figured that would let her know what this is about)

I heard a door shut on the other end and a hushed voice saying "Who is this?"

"Alexis Barco" I reply, not knowing who it was at first

"Yeah, But who are you REALLY?" she asked

"Among other things...Greg Schmitt, from Chicago"

"A man....thats surpising" she said almost as if she didnt expect it.

I gave her my life story, told her about all my inn visits and gave her a link to the blog. She gave me a lot of insight into her life.

Both her and Sharon are from Vermont originally, although different parts. They met in college at U of V. Alexis had been a lesbian all her life and her parents were cool with it, it was something she had felt from a very young age etch. Sharon was more of a popular girl type who had dated guys up until she met Alex, fell in love, and realized that she had been lying to herself for years.

Alex was apparently a tomboy/geek. She had played hockey in college and had a degree in Computer Science. Sharon was the girlier of the two and her degree was in Fine Arts. After college they stayed in Burlington, got married, and Alex took a job as an IT manager while Sharon pursued her painting.

Fast forward to this summer when they were on a road trip through the New England coast and they stopped at the wrong inn. Alex is now playing house in Minnesota with two teenaged kids and a husband who I can tell she resents.

Sharon, on the other hand, wound up in a truck driver named Jack, based out of Rochester, NY. The former cheerleader apparently isnt handling being big and burly very well. Apparently they talk online but not much to avoid arousing suspicion. There is a definite melancholy tone when she talks about her. I can relate, although at least they know who they are, unlike me and Amber were.

We talked over a few more details and I gave her a quick play by play on how to get her life back and she seemed relieved at that. She had to go to some household stuff so I let her go and went in to talk to Malinda.

"You should call the real Sharon"

"And say what?" She asked rolling her eyes

"Youre body is OK what do i need to know to pretend to be you?"

"Being a lazy ass artist isnt a really complicated life, I dont think I need her to explain that to me"

Her denial was starting to get on my nerves, but again, not everyone reacts as well as us bloggers do. I think all the authors on here share the same level headed pragmatism. Clearly Malinda didnt.

I called the number I had for Jack the Trucker but it went to voicemail so I left a message.

That brings us today when I was checking the comments on my last post. A reader named Kiai posted this.

From prior posts here it's clear that brain-patterning trumps prior preferences, big-time. Your new wife is in for a rough landing as that soaks in. Be ready to catch; maybe even ready to get her on a 72-hour watch. Anybody know of a counselor or therapist who's been through the Inn? She might need somebody who can discuss the true issues with her. I suggest getting in contact with the original Alex first thing; she'll be a lot more knowledgeable about BLGT resources in the hometown.

Working marriages are inclined to be person-to-person, not type-to-type. Check your premises: is her original hardcore-lesbian, or 'bi and married for love'? How about the original Alex? You need to know so you know what to expect.

The first thing I did after reading that was shut the bedroom door, lock it, and look up some internet porn, you know, for science. Sure enough after a few minutes of watching some girl on girl action I got a little turned on. I then tried a few stills of naked women and felt something similar to what I felt towards men in my last few bodies, so yeah I'm totally gay now.

Which means that Malinda is probably gay now, and she was brought up in an environment where it wasnt very OK to be gay. When she read that comment she chuckled sarcastically.

"I'm not gonna need therapy" she said, clearly resolved to make it through the year chaste.

I will be keeping an eye on her, because I dont want her to kill herself.

I might want to do it myself...

Mostly Kidding, Greg.

Greg: Directed by M. Night Shamalayan

2011-07-05T09:14:00.001-04:00

I think I spelled his name right. For someone who was Indian for a year I can't spell Hindi worth a damn. Anyway the title refers to the massive twist that my current Inn caper took last week. I waited a few days to tell you because 1. I had to organize my thoughts, and 2. Tori was working on a big sensitive post and I didnt want to steal her thunder.

Anyway, I didnt find the elusive Alex that first day, even after I asked every male I saw. Which made me worried he had left already. Resigned to the fact I was going to be here awhile and didnt have any clothes that fit me, I headed into town wearing baggy sweatpants tied with a belt and an oversized tshirt. I looked ridiculous but a tourist town like Old Orchard beach sees all sorts of people who need clothes for whatever reason.

I headed to one of the shops and picked out a few shirts, panties, bras and shorts after trying them on. (Size 6, 36B in case you were all curious) as well as a pair of flip flops and made my way back to the inn and did vacation stuff, keeping an eye out for any newcomers.

I chatted up the girl who had been helping the other guests out that first night. She was in her early 20s and had just gotten her correct body back. Her name was Helena and she headed back to California on Friday. When I explained my situation she was like "Oh, Youre Greg!" because she apparently is a lurker on this blog. I told her she shouldve added to it but she said she wasnt much of a writer. She offered me condolences over all that happened and asked me a few questions. I almost feel like I shouldve autographed something for her.

Everyone else was slowly coming to grips with what happened and were leaving for their new lives. I told everyone about the blog because apparently it offers a blueprint on how to get your life back. After a few days of vacationing still no Alex.

On Sunday morning It was nothing but me and Malinda, my neighbor who was a total bitch to me and had turned into an even prettier girl than before. She didnt have a note to go on and seemed really upset about the whole thing. I went to my room to blog about the whole lack of Alex thing when I read the comment on my last post.

"Alex=Alexandra?"

I had never thought of that. I ran outside and persuaded a grumpy Malinda to come into my room and try her thumb on the locked laptop. She rolled her eyes and looked annoyed when her thumbprint didnt work.

But mine did.

I know, I shouldve tried it sooner, but its hard to be logical around here sometimes.

The laptop opened turned on and the desktop background was a photo of my body and Malinda's body at an amusement park. "So I guess were sisters or something" Malinda remarked.

The only file on the desktop was a video labeled "Inn instructions for new Alex and Sharon"

When it opened there was a webcam vlog style video of a woman in her 30s and a big hairy man in his 40s. The woman did most of the talking because the man was crying and sobbing off and on, being hugged and consoled.

Apparently Malinda and I are now Sharon and Alexis Barco (Respectively) of Burlington Vermont. And they are not sisters, they're married.

Ill pause a moment while you all react. A little part of me that was still male geeked out at a strange teenage fantasy come true. Lesbians! Yay!

Malinda, however did NOT have a similar reaction. I had to pause the video because she got up, screamed, looked at me and kept saying "ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew ew. Im not some (D word for lesbian thats not polite to repeat)"

She went into her room and I finished the video for more details. They Barco's had been married for about 6 years, been together for 10. Alexis was the head of IT at an ice cream company (not that one) and Sharon was an artist. Apparently Alexis, or Alex as she went by was a big techno nerd and thats why she had something like a biometric locked laptop. (Thank god she's not a spy)

They had stayed in the same room but it had only been single occupied the previous time, meaning they wound up in separate lives. Alex became a stay at home Mom in Minneapolis who had been given a Mother's Day vacation to Maine. Sharon had turned into a big burly trucker who was staying at the Inn while his truck got fixed, and from her body language she hated everything about her new body and life.

I pitied them, but soon got the luggage combos unlocked my clohtes, which were pretty tomboyish. I wheeled the suitcase for Sharon into Malinda's room and sat down on the bed next to her. She seemed wary of my touch so I didnt put my arm around her.

"It's OK, its only temporary, its easy to get your body back"

"How do you know" she snapped "And why would you go back to your old body, this one is so much better"

I then proceed to come clean about my history. How I was a guy who turned into his fiancee's best friend. How I then lost said fiancee' when the person in my body ran off with my secretary. How I spent the last year in the body of that person, and now how I was playing musical bodies for the forseeable future.

Malinda couldnt get past two things. First that I used to be a man and second that I knew what the Inn was going to do and didnt tell her. I tried to explain the curse but she was pretty upset.

Apparently Malinda was from a rich conservative family out of Highland Park, Texas. (Suburb of Dallas) Fresh with her degree from SMU she had decided to take a year off and travel America, and she landed in the wrong place at the wrong time. I left her to go through Sharon's things and started formulating our exit from the Inn.

Burllington isnt far from Old Orchard Beach but it's a long drive without a lot of Insterstate. The Barcos had driven up in their Range Rover and it was parked outside, ready to be driven home. I packed up all my Dee clothes and wrote my note. I then turned in, waiting for the long ride home.

The next morning found Malinda very much in denial. She seemed to be of the impression that she was going to just assume her old life. It took a lot of convincing and a lot swearing and a lot of crying to get her to write a note and get into the car.

We rode home in silence, mostly because she saw me as her captor or something. She did read the blog though, on her new body's Droid (I think she misses her iPhone). I didnt receive much feedback because she started from the beginning and read through the first year or so. She did let out a grossed out gasp when she read about Arthur having sex in Liz's body.

Finally, exhausted we made it to Burlington at about 9pm. The Barco's had a pretty nice condo that they owned. We put our stuff away in the bedroom and I began to take my clothes off and crash on the bed when Malinda looked at me like I was crazy.

"Uh uh, just because the real Sharon is some deviant doesnt mean I am, now get your butt on the couch"

I hadnt planned on trying anything, but I'm not gonna start fights with this person. She's still in a fragile state and I dont want her throwing anything at me.

The couch was comfy enough anyway. After this blog post I'm gonna get more familiar with the new life.

-Greg/Alexis

Tori: Father's Days (part 3)

2011-07-03T19:42:00.003-04:00

In case you missed it, tonight I'm double-posting the last couple parts of my "Father's Days" story, so scroll down!

The next day I went to the hospital. I didn't think getting in to see my dad would be easy, but it was surprisingly not a big deal. Now, it's not like they just let strangers in to see patients, but Willy had sent advance word that "a friend of his" would be by to drop off a card he'd written. The thing is, there wasn't a card... but there was a letter.

When I couldn't sleep the night before, I opened up my laptop, and started composing some thoughts. I'd transcribe the letter for you here, but it was obviously very personal, and frankly kinda rambling. But I guess after all this time I still wanted to get some stuff off my shoulders, clear the air with him. Even though I've gotten pretty good at writing about myself through this blog, when I started thinking back on my old life, it came out confused and clumsy. Eventually I ended up writing a short note, from Willy's perspective, about how no matter the differences between us, no matter how far away I am, I'm still a part of this family, and even though we had problems, I'll always love and appreciate everything he and mom did for me.

And that part's true, and it was very difficult to get out. I printed it at a copy shop and left space at the bottom to add the personal touch... my signature, "JHCliff--" so he'd know it was from me. I haven't signed anything that way in years, of course, but surprisingly my hand made the signature exactly how I remember it looking.

When I got to the room, I found my dad resting. I said I wouldn't be more than a minute, I guess figuring I'd read the letter out and be, even though he was asleep it was going to be a token gesture on my part. But when I got in there, I was just, so overwhelmed by the sight of my dad, the unstoppable tough guy in a hospital bed. It stopped me cold.

I set the letter on the side table and took a seat next to him.

"Guess you can't hear me, huh dad?" No response. "Maybe I shouldn't talk. It's not like you're in a coma or something. You need rest." Again, he didn't flinch. I crossed my legs and straightened out my skirt... I had dressed formally.

"I never thought I'd see you like this. I never thought I'd see you again at all, and I'm sure you never thought you'd see your son looking like this. I sure as hell hope you can't hear me, dad, because I haven't admitted who I am... who I was... to anybody in a long, long time. Christ, Dad, if you could get a good look at your boy now, you'd have another damned heart attack."

I put my hand on his and watched him breathe a moment.

"It was exhausting being John Henry Clifford. Trying to be the good son, but having no clue how to live up to your expectations. You never really made me feel like it was okay that I wasn't the same as Bret. That I was shy. That I wasn't athletic. And when he went off to war and I didn't... it was like there was something wrong with me for not joining up. God, it's no wonder Willy knocked him out. But none of that's your fault. I don't blame you. You just wanted what was best for me, and in the end... I think I've got it."

"I was put in a bad situation, dad. Something happened to me that was beyond my control, that I never asked for. I know it seems like I should be embarrassed, but I like to think you'd be proud of me, for handling it so well. Making the best of a bad situation. Maybe you'd be shocked to hear that somewhere along the way I went from putting up with this life, to preferring it. I like myself better this way, dad. I won't apologize for that. But I guess we'll never know how you'd feel, because even if I could tell you where I've been this year, you'd never believe me."

I dabbed my eyes, which were slowly tearing up. "Sorry I'm getting so emotional here, dad. PMS is rough and I've had a weird week."

I couldn't think of anything else to say, so I left the note by his table, and walked out of the room.

In the hallway, I ran into my mother. It's weird being looked at by your own mom like you're a stranger, but I nearly called out "Mom!" but managed at the last moment to change it into "Mu-issus Clifford!" She leveled her eyes at me trying to figure out how she was supposed to know me.

"I'm Tori. I'm a friend of your son's. I actually came to Thanksgiving once."

"Oh! Of course, dear. You were dropping something off for Johnny."

"Yes, yes... dropping something off for Johnny. Look, I'm sorry about what's happened here. Can I buy you a cup of coffee?"

"Oh, that's not necessary."

"Please, you've been through a lot this week. I won't let you say no."

My mom's a woman that understands a thing or two about hospitality. We went down to the cafeteria and I bought her a tea and we chatted only as long as the walk back up to my dad's room.

"Is he going to be okay?" I asked eagerly.

"He'll live, they say, but if the bastard doesn't change his diet he won't have much time. I guess that's where I come in. I love him, you know, but he can be stubborn."

"Hah! Tell me about it!" I said, as if I was supposed to know the man.

"He'll put up a fight, but if he wants to live, he'll change. It's just a matter of making him want to change."

"I'm sure he'll find his way," I told her.

She nodded along, then asked, "So how exactly do you know my son?"

"That... is a really long, complicated story." Fortunately by this point, we had reached the room, so I excused myself.

Alex and I got some lunch and set out for the road home. Once we were in the car, I decided the time was right to clear some stuff up with him.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked timidly while I was driving. "What's your deal, man?"

He glanced at me. "My deal?"

"Listen, I don't wanna pry... I mean, I am, but only because I really just don't know. You know my friend Danny, right?"

"Sure... the gay guy."

"Yes. He mentioned, after I introduced you, he'd met you before."

"Really..."

"And he implied there was some kind of history between the two of you. But he's never been specific as to what."

Alex rolled his eyes some and finally relented. "It's not what you're thinking."

"I don't know what I'm thinking," I said.

"Well whatever happened, it wasn't anything serious. It was a very G-rated... thing."

"But what was it?"

"It was two guys meeting. One gay, one... not sure."

That gave me pause. I don't think I've ever met a man who would admit to something like that.

I stayed quiet. He continued. "It was at a time when I had reason to doubt... who I was. Who I am. What I want. I'm only telling you this because I feel like you'd understand."

"Why would I understand?"

"I don't know, I just... get this sense about you. Your story about how you couldn't be a baseball player. Going from dating popular guys in high school to dating someone like Buddy... that's not the same, but I think you get a sense of how someone changes over time."

"Uh yeah, definitely," I said, as if he should know my real past.

"So I'm telling you this in confidence." He went into a bit more detail about a period of his life, a couple years earlier, when he had just arrived in Philly and needed some company, and wound up, of all things, hanging with a mostly-gay crowd. I won't share the details, and I guess as far as Danny's recounting of the situation, there was a misunderstanding because of how unseemly he made it out to be. And for all I know, Alex is still covering for something.

But this left me with one question. Why didn't he like Raine when I set them up?

He said with a knowing smirk, "She wasn't into me and I wasn't into her. Two people don't have to want to fuck just because they're opposite sex and single, you know." He said it kiddingly, but it's something I've had weird time realizing since I realized I like guys... I haven't been "just friends" with one (straight and unattached anyway) since when Buddy and I were "just friends" he was pretty upfront about wanting to date me. Alex's words here seemed to indicate that's how he sees me, though.

Since "activating" this part of my life, I've jumped from Leo to Buddy, and maybe if I were someone else it would be healthy to be on my own for a while. But I've had plenty of time in my life to be alone.

It would probably be healthy just to have a male friend and not feel obligated to want to be with him, but at the same time, it hurts. There's nothing "keeping us apart" like attachments or orientations or distance... just a lack of interest on his part. Feels pretty familiar. Like rejection.

We got back to Philly and while I felt like I had managed to get some closure with my old life, my new one is still a wide open mess.

Thanks for listening. While I was typing up this long-ass story, I set up a Twitter account for some of us at the inn (we'll see if anyone else is interested in sharing) just for little thoughts between posts, updates... if any of you are on there, if you wanna follow us, it might be nice to interact that way because we don't always get around to replying to blog messages. For those of you still reading, it means a lot to us! (As specially since, as Greg seems to be finding, this story never seems to end!!)

Tori: Father's Days (Part 2)

2011-07-01T20:59:00.000-04:00

The night that I heard about my dad's heart attack, the first thing I did was price a bus trip to Buffalo. It's expensive to get there from here, as well as time-consuming, which is why I didn't keep close contact with my old body.

Unfortunately, I simply did not have the time or money to do that. I was desperate to get to Buffalo, though, and at 7 hours, the Mapquest-plotted course was looking a lot more realistic than the 15-hour one suggested by Greyhound. I ran down the list of people I knew who might be willing to help me. My first call? Alex.

I've only known him a few months, a lot of which I haven't really blogged about, but he and I had this instant connection I can barely describe, so I was hoping I could trust him to help me with this and not ask too many questions about why.

It took some convincing. I had to deal with a lot of awkward questions like "Who do you know in Buffalo?" and "Why do you need to drop everything and go now?" I think part of the reason I asked Alex was that since he hasn't known Tori all her life, like say Raine or Sara, I could roll back on the fact that there are simply things he doesn't know about my life.

So I told him it was a favour for a friend, who couldn't make it. I had to deliver a letter, in case "his" dad didn't make it. "That's quite noble," Alex said, "Y'know, I'm a sucker for a good story. This'll make me feel like a good guy."

I smiled at him, "You are a good guy."

He gave a weird, self-deprecating wink, "Sometimes it's hard to convince myself of that."

There were other reasons I wanted to spend all this time with Alex. Even though we hang out a lot, I still don't feel like I know who he is. He lets me talk on and on about my relationship problems, my issues with finding work (prior to him hooking me up with my current job,) and anything that bothered me about anything, but when I turn the conversation over to him, he gets gives the bare minimum. "How's life?" "It's all right." Etc etc. I feel awkward making myself an open book and yet being unable to pry anything out of him.

We hit the open road Friday after work. I had to break the silence to get my mind off my dad. About forty minutes out of Philly, we get to talking and I ask what he wanted to be when he grew up when he was a kid.

"I don't know," he chuckles self-deprecatingly. "Not this, I don't think. I mean, I like the job and everything, but I guess I wanted adventure, I wanted to be rich. Indiana Jones. I didn't see myself hunched over a computer."

I smiled. "Yeah, I guess I didn't either."

"Yeah, there never was an IT Girl Barbie was there?" Before I could respond he flipped the question back to me, "So what did you want to be?"

I sighed, "For a while... this is embarrassing, but when I was really young, I thought it would be fun to be a baseball player."

He did a double take, taking his focus off the road so he could share his look of skepticism. "Uh, what?"

I started to reformat the story so that it fit into my backstory as Tori. It turned out not to be that far from the truth "I mean... when I was really young, before I realized it wasn't really an option, you know? As I got older and my body developed... the way it did... that idea sorta faded away."

"You never talk much about your past," he pointed out.

"Neither do you."

"Touche."

"Were you popular in high school?" he asked.

"Yeah, I guess so." I recited unenthusiastically. This is the part of being Tori I hate, having to pretend the life I read about in her diaries was mine. "Lots of friends. Dating. Boyfriends. Sexual exploits behind the bleachers. Stuff I'm not really proud of."

"I always wondered how a girl like you wound up working with computers. Most of the hot girls I know can barely download apps for their iPhones."

I blushed a bit. Even after this time, it gets me that I'm 'hot.' "Something changes along the way," I said. "Being hot isn't a job, at least not one I was interested in. I spent a lot of time trying to find myself."

"Well I'm glad you did," he glanced over at me, "Otherwise we wouldn't be here, would we?"

"No," I breathed heavily, "I suppose not."

I was feeling it. I squirmed in my seat. He was doing something to me, something Buddy and Leo didn't quite. He can command a conversation and make me want to know spill my guts without ever saying much about himself. This whole time I've been Tori I've been the one on guard and suddenly I just wanna let it all out. He has so much more confidence in himself than Buddy, so much more charm than Leo.

Much of the rest of the ride was spent talking about work and singing along to the radio. We arrived in Buffalo after dark. I wanted to go straight to the hospital but it was way too late for that, so we checked into a motel and I brought him to my favorite neighborhood bar for a drink. The place hasn't changed, it was like stepping back into 2008. I tried to shrug off any discomfort.

We were done our first pitcher when I spotted a familiar face glancing my way. It was Justin, my best friend for years. I don't know how long he had been watching me. Suddenly I felt like I had been punched in the gut. It was one thing to be here among all the familiar buildings. It was another to come face to face with someone from my past, although I guess that was why I was there to begin with. I just wasn't prepared for it yet.

I excused myself during a lull in the conversation and crossed the bar to see him. He noticed me and got this awkward deer-in-headlights look. His eyes fixated on my breasts until I started talking.

"Hi there," I said nervously. "Justin, right?"

"Yes, yeah." I wasn't the only one who was nervous. "I'm sorry, I just can't remember where I know you from."

That hurt a bit, but I guess it was fair. He met me in this body once, a year and a half ago, at Thanksgiving just after I had transformed and was pretending to be "Cliff's" date so I could get one last look at my family. He and Willy set up a cruel trick where he would come in and pretend to hit on me, and then reveal he knew who I was. It was cruel because at the time he was going with a really great girl named Randi, and because Willy should have sensed how deeply uncomfortable that would be for me.

I reminded him of where he knew me from, and he nearly spat his drink out when I mentioned the name Cliff. "I haven't talked to that guy in forever."

"Yeah, he's been over in England for a while I guess."

"Sure, I guess, but even before that. Dude was getting weird. He was a really cool guy, but sometime after that Thanksgiving, he totally cracked."

"Hm. Maybe you just don't know the whole story."

"Oh yeah? What's the whole story?"

"I'm not saying I know, I just think maybe he was ... 'cracked' ... before that. Probably cracked before I came along."

"Well he hid it. Still, whatever happened, he got the balls to leave this place, which I'm kinda proud of."

"What does that mean?"

"So, his brother's a soldier. Been to Afghanistan and everything." (It was actually Iraq but whatever.) "They never got along. Total opposites. His brother, Bret, was actually a dick because, Cliff was kinda nerdy his whole life and Bret was the fave. Then, I guess right before he leaves for England, he decides he's sick of Bret's crap and picks a fight with him right behind this bar. And he knocks him the fuck out!"

My eyes widened. Willy could not have made a more out-of-character moment if he'd tried. I had my problems with Bret but I never would have let it come to blows, especially because I knew he could kick my ass. "Bret knocked Cliff out?"

"No!" Justin swigged, "Cliff knocked Brett on his ass. One punch. I never saw anything like it."

One punch?? I didn't know what to say. I stammered to change the subject. "Hey, wh-when, uh, last time, um, back then, you were dating this girl, um, how's that... uh, are you still together?"

He got real sullen and turned back to his beer. "Nah, that ended a while back." I didn't press him for details. I thought it was sad, though. I liked Randi a lot, even if she was indirectly responsible for me going to the Trading Post Inn (I don't hold that against her.) I actually liked her when she and I first met, and I always thought maybe if Justin hadn't been more charming, I might've had a chance. But I was probably too much of a geek for her, and now my life's taken the direction it has.

I felt bad for Justin though, in that moment. I know he really liked Randi, and I felt sorry I couldn't be there for him when the relationship ended. I guess that's how girly I've been because comforting someone wasn't really my forte when I was a guy, that wasn't how our friendship would've worked, aside from, I don't know, going to a strip club and watching Star Wars to get his mind off her.

I decided I wanted to keep him company and express my sympathies. He asked what I was doing in town and I said I was just passing through on an errand and I remembered this bar. He said that was lucky for him, and there was some cool stuff he could show me if I wanted.

Oh my God, I realized. My best friend was putting the moves on me.

I felt like an idiot. It was warm, so I was wearing a top that showed some cleavage. I was bending over him at the bar. For fuck's sake, you'd think I'd know what effect this body has on guys. I began to fidget.

I couldn't bring myself to shut him down cold like he was just "some guy." This is someone who was friends with me for years even though we could've been in totally different crowds - Justin was a good athlete in high school and well-liked, and he always tried to include me in shit. I've always felt like I owed him a debt.

I don't know what's wrong with me, that I even briefly entertained the idea. He was just so sad and he was such a good guy to me as Cliff. I knew this would cheer him up, but is that really who I want to be? Alex, a guy I really like, was sitting just across the bar from me, and whatever lies in his murky past, I didn't want him to see me going home with some random dude I apparently met.

It would also be such a bizarre experience being with this guy I've known forever, without him knowing it was me. I couldn't imagine all the hidden layers of awkward that would occur if I let him put his dick in me. It didn't feel fair to him. Shit, we used to watch scrambled porn together in his basement, back in the day.

He looked at me expectantly as all these thoughts went through my brain. "Listen, I appreciate the offer... but I don't think this is right. I'm not looking to... I'm not up for anything right now. I hope you understand."

I was about to back away, when I felt his hand enclose around my wrist. He looked up at me with these utterly pathetic eyes. "Please. Just let me buy you a drink."

Doing my best not to lose my shit on my former best friend, I said in a calm, measured tone, "Justin. You should probably let go of me. Right now."

Alex appeared behind me. "You heard her."

"What are you, her boyfriend?"

"I'm her friend," he said sternly.

Justin's eyes shifted back and forth for a second. Thankfully he didn't hesitate in releasing his grip. My heart was pounding.

"I'm so sorry. I didn't mean to get so carried away."

"Yeah..." I sighed and backed away, as Alex kept himself between me and him. When we were a safe distance away, her asked, "What was that?"

"It was a misunderstanding," I told him, "Maybe I'll tell you the whole story sometime." Probably not.

We settled up and found our way to a motel. Having dragged Alex all the way out, I insisted on paying for the two-bed room we ended up getting, but Alex wouldn't let me. What is it about being a girl that makes guys want to pay for stuff with you? (Oh yeah... boobs.) Sometimes that's really inconvenient.

I tried to lie back and go to bed, but I was having difficulties. I guess ever since 2009, I've had problems falling asleep in strange beds... for fairly obvious reasons, I should think. (It took ) The only times I've slept well in strange rooms is when I'm "with" someone, and that sure wasn't happening.

After a few hours of tossing and turning, it was nearly 4 AM. Finally, I permitted my hand to travel south. Now, I've done this plenty of times, but rarely with someone else in the room, especially if they're not my current partner, but it wasn't that long ago I had gone on a stealth mission with Buddy in bed next to me anyway.

I rolled over and buried my face in the pillow to muffle any inadvertent sounds that might squeak out of my face, hiking my butt in the air. The danger definitely added to the sensation. I suspect he may have heard anyway, because I heard him tossing and turning, but at that point I couldn't break away from my deed. Maybe he got a show. He didn't say anything about it the next day.

It helped me relax, although it was still a long while before I got to sleep. Probably around 5 AM. Thankfully, Alex let me sleep 'til nearly noon, which I really needed. I woke up and looked over at him, reading one of George R.R. Martin's Game of Thrones books. He gave me a "Morning sleepyhead" and asked what we were doing today.

I responded by rolling over and trying to fall back asleep. When I finally realized this was pointless, I began to plot out the day... and severely doubted that I had the balls to go through with what I was planning.

Greg/Sharon: Answers and Questions

2011-06-30T05:38:00.000-04:00

So its a little after 5am on Wednesday morning and I'm happy to say that the curse kicked in a few hours ago. Those of you astute enough to read the title will know already that I'm still female, having turned into the body of Sharon Barco.

I knew the change was going to happen tonight. Ive been doing a modest headcount the whole visit and last night we finally hit lucky number 13. I dont know what exactly causes the curse to kick in, but I stayed up all night waiting for it, like a kid waiting for Santa in a weird twisted way. Its nearly impossible to fall asleep anyway around here when you know whats going to happen. Most nights I drink heavily to fall asleep, but not last night.

Around 2am I felt that "hard to describe unlike anything else" feeling of the changes starting, and I did what so many of us Inn veterans do and I stripped naked and ran to the bathroom mirror.

The first thing that happend to me was the rapid weight loss, meaning that whomever I was turning into was smaller than a size 16. Wrinkles, stretch marks, and cellulite were also disappearing so they also took better care of themselves or were younger.

I got about two inches taller but it stopped there, and the sagging off my breasts disappeared. When they stopped in a more perky position is when I realized that I was going to stay female.

My hair actually got a little shorter, which was surmising. As Dee i'd been wearing it about shoulder length curly in the back, very easy to style. This time the hair went halfway up my neck in almost a Bob haircut. It also turned a light brown and all my gray went away :).

Then of course came the awkward slightly painful experience of having your face change. Its almost like having to sneeze but the sneeze never comes. Or an itch that cant be scratched. You figure everyone's face is different and there are a lot of bones and muscles and tissues that gotta be rearranged. The eye color is the weirdest one of all. It doesnt happen all at once though, like it gradually changes. Mine went from greenish to what people call hazel. Once it was all done I was much younger looking. No crows feet or laughlines and very nice teeth.

This whole time the pounds were just melting off. You cant imagine how big of a relief it is to be fat for a year and then just to see it go away. It wasnt just losing weight though, I gained a little muscle tone. Definitely could see some definition in the legs and butt as well as the arms. But the best part of all was the abs. I'm now the proud owner of a six pack.

After the tingling sensations stopped I looked myself up and down. I'd say my age is a little under 30, much younger than Dee but slightly older than Priya or my original self. Still white, but slightly tanner than before. Clearly lives a fit lifestyle and completely hairless except for a "landing strip". No kids, or at least I dont think so. There were no stretch marks or lines that would indicate something was living inside of here.

I was broken out of my exploratory daze at around 4 am from the screams and shouting and general hubbub in the commons. This meant I had to get dressed, which posed a problem. I discovered yesterday that the biometrically locked laptop belonged to Alex, only his thumbprint was gonna get me the electronically recorded note that included the combo to their luggage. I wonder if their spies, I dont look that atheltic but I could see myself as a spy now.

Either way, I'm not getting dressed until I find Alex's body. So I put on a Dee nightshirt that covered everything but fit miserably and went out to calm everyone down and tell them what was up. Only when I got to the lobby I discovered that someone was doing just that. Apparently I'm not the only veteran here and this younger looking guy was giving out instructions on what to do. Eventually everyone headed back to their rooms to look at their notes.

I knocked on Albert's door and a man about my age opened. "Hi, I'm Dee from next door, or I was last year...its a long story. I suppose youre wondering where your note is..."

He looked at me puzzled. "No, Ive got my note. Says Im someone named Neil Pane from Arkansas. I cant go to Arkansas, Ive got a family" I reassured him and sighed, figuring that bitchy girl next door (whose name I learned was Malinda or Mal or something) was Alex. But when I knocked on her door a woman opened the door, looking distraught.

"Hi, I dont suppose there's a 'man' in there" I ask

"No, I'm not that kind of girl, who the hell are you?" She asked, looking pissed off in a mannaer that told me it was Malinda in there

"Dee, from next door"

"You mean the old chubby lady? Man did you luck out" she said in a patronizing way.

I was mildly offended but wished her good luck, I have bigger things to think about.

I went back to the room and began this post...I'll start looking for Alex's body in the morning. Hopefully he doesnt panic.

-Greg

Greg: 1 week down

2011-06-27T23:25:00.002-04:00

So, with the first week of my Trading Post Inn reservation in the books, I now find myself in the body of.....Dee.

Yep, we haven't had guest magic number 13 arrive yet, which is strange because it didnt take this long my first two visits. I got to Maine late night on Tuesday, and found it to be pretty much deserted, just me, a single guy in his 30s, and a middle aged couple. I didnt say much to them but they didnt appear to be aware of what awaited them.

I, on the other hand, am only partially aware of what awaits me. The first thing I did when I got to my room was to check for luggage, but my closest had two suitcases. One belonging to Alex Barco and another belonging to Sharon Barco. The tags had the same address so I presume that they are some kind of couple. I didnt find anything more out because they didnt leave a note other than a post it saying "info stored on laptop". The suitcases were combo locked and I couldnt go through them, and the laptop case was next to them.

This is where it gets ingenious/tricky. The laptop had a special add on to it that in order to get access to it you had to put your thumbprint down and have it read it. Obviously, no one was going to get that information without Alex or Sharon Barco's thumbprint, meaning that until I possessed either of their forms. (I hope they arent spies, Id be a terrible spy and wind up geting captured or killed)

That leads me to the next big puzzle of the week. Which one will I be. From what we've learned over the past 5 years of this blog, the magic doesnt turn you into the person who slept in that room previously automatically. It turns you into the person who was sleeping nearest to where you slept, or something.

So while my room had two occupants last time, this time it only has one. Meaning I'll turn into one of Barcos, and someone else in the near vicinity will turn into the other.nThis means Ive taken great interest in the two rooms adjacent to mine, because in all likelihood, whomever stays there is going to wind up being my spouse.

The room to my left filled up the day after I got here. A guy by the name of Albert Connell. Albert doesnt know that the Inn is cursed. I found this out by talking to him around the hotel. He's in Maine trying to expand his business in the northeast or something. He's from Ohio and and has a wife and two teenagers back home. Its hard hearing his story, because I now that in a few days he's gonna be ripped away from his family and replaced with God knows who. I dropped hints at what happens but he didnt seem to notice, so this is clearly his first time here.

The room to my right didnt become occupied until this weekend. I havent done much talking to the girl who's staying there because she appears to do most of her communication in text form. She's actually really cute. Blonde, cute little body. Drives a nice car and has an iPhone. She looks to be about 24. Old enough to be out of college, young enough to still have sorority letters on her totebag. She gave me the brush off every time I approached her, apparently caring too much about her tan to bother with talking with older people. I kinda hope she turns into a fat person.

Of course, this is all speculation and this place has done nothing but send me curveballs. As of Monday night there are 9 people staying here. I thinks the economy is causing attendance to dwindle. If we dont have 13 by Saturday night Im tempted just to put an ad on Craigslist or something, because come hell or high water I will be getting out of this body.

Stay tuned

-Greg

Tori: Father's Days (Part 1)

2011-06-22T14:44:00.006-04:00

Sometimes I get sad when I think about the fact that as much as I love my dad, he's only been my dad for a couple of years. It makes me sadder to think of the fact that the love he has for me is the love he means to give to someone else, someone who walked away from her own life. I have a complex opinion of the "real" Tori, because she was gracious enough to let me keep living a life that is rightfully hers when it turned out I wouldn't get mine back. But the way she gave it up, sometimes I wonder if she appreciated what she had.

I put off talking to my family for a while after I got back from Houston. I really didn't want to talk to anybody, but of course I live with Raine, and I work with Alex, but I was quiet about it, and they respected that. They knew things with Buddy were complicated, but I never really could explain why, obviously. There were a lot of issues, even stretching beyond the "I used to be a guy" thing, because of who I was as a guy... partly, he reminded me of the old me, and that was both a good thing and a bad thing. Things I liked about myself, I liked about him. Things I hated about myself, I absolutely couldn't stand about him. But I guess I felt I owed it to myself to try to make it work, because I was just so high on being able to be in a relationship anyway.

But breaking up hurt even though it was mostly my own doing. I didn't want to show it because after all this time, I should know it's better to have loved and lost than never at all. I'd fall asleep clutching my pillow wondering if I'd made a mistake, and feeling guilty and irrational and emotional and embarrassed.

A while later, my dad called to see if I'd help him paint the house. The weather was getting nice and mom had been on his case about the window sills and the garage doors. Even though I didn't quite get why he'd ask me -- I don't think either the old Tori or myself showed signs of competence with that -- I was glad to do it, because I hadn't had an excuse to see them in a while, and wanted to stop avoiding them. Mostly, it just felt like a fun normal afternoon.

So I found an old t-shirt and some shorts and we spent an afternoon painting the place up. He goaded me into going up the ladder he'd rented to do the top floor windows. We ordered a pizza for lunch, and then he came out with it.

"So... I'm gonna guess you and Buddy are off."

I sighed heavily. "What was your first clue?"

"Well, he moved off to Texas, didn't he? Dallas?"

"Houston."

"Right. And weren't you thinking of joining him?"

"I was. I was looking for work down there. In case it worked out."

"And it didn't?"

I gave a moment's thought and answered "No. It did not."

He took a long time responding to that. He took a bite of his pizza and chewed, and then another. Maybe he was waiting for me to elaborate, but I didn't know what else to say.

He stopped chewing and looked at me and said "I didn't like him."

I smiled uncontrollably, but had to twist my face into a sour expression. "That's sweet of you to say, Dad, but I know it's not true." Although he wouldn't have, if he'd known how badly Buddy handled the break-up.

"No, it's not true. He was smart, nice enough, very polite. Your mother and I liked that you were with him."

I winced. "I've dated a lot of assholes." I haven't, but part of being someone else, unfortunately, is having the balls to own up to their mistakes.

He laughed, "Yeah. Sure. Some assholes here and there. But I never protested, did I? I let you find your way. And now look at you. I liked him fine, but I liked that you were dating him. He never got a ticket for street racing, I bet."

Dad brings this up from time to time and I have no idea what the story is behind it.

"He was smart and he had a good job and he didn't seem like he would've been popular in high school. Really different choice for you, if you don't mind me saying so."

"I don't."

"But that doesn't mean I'm upset you broke up. If there was a problem that couldn't be fixed, I'm glad you did what you felt was right. You're a very strong girl, Tori. You're a very different person than I thought you'd turn out to be, and I'm always surprised by what an amazing person you became."

I wanted to cry, I was getting so choked up, I had to throw my paint-covered arms around him. He had no idea how much those words could possibly mean to me, or what he was truly saying. I actually felt guilty because I'm not the girl he raised, but knowing he approves of who I am just means the world to me. You don't get to choose your family, and I'm so glad that when I landed in this body, I got one I love so much.

I was struggling to open a can of paint and I said jokingly (but not without meaning) "I bet at times like these you wish I was a son, right dad?"

He just grinned at me, popped the lid open and said "Hey, I could have called your brother up... what would I need another son for? I've got the best daughters ever."

He paused and added, "And the best son."

I was on such a high about that weekend, but it didn't last. A while later, I got an e-mail from "J.H. Clifford." Willy. My heart sunk and I almost didn't want to hear what he had to say. I clicked the message.

He had just gotten word that my dad -- My real dad, in Buffalo -- had had a heart attack and was in the hospital. Willy's still in England, but maybe I would like to have a look in on my family, in case he doesn't make it. There wasn't anything else in the letter. No "This is what I've done with your life," no question of returning to the inn. Just this fact.

I was looking up bus tickets to Buffalo that night, and before I knew it, I was back home...

Greg/Didi: Saying my goodbyes.

2011-06-16T11:17:00.004-04:00

I know at times Ive made it seem that I have no friends as Dee and that I lived my life as a hermit, but thats not entirely true. I have co workers and neighbors who Ive been friendly with and enjoyed their company and Im gonna miss a little when the Inn takes me on my next great adventure. I left work last Friday saying goodbye to all my friends, although they didnt seem to get it. As far as they were concerned, Dee was going to Maine for the 3rd year in a row and she always came back so much nicer. I realize now that I'm going to miss them, but theres one person in particular I am going to miss.

Let me start at the beginning, and rewind back to January.

The holidays were just finishing up and I was feeling really depressed, what with Dee's son spending xmas somewehere else and me being alone for the first time in years. That loneliness was compounded by a certain itch that needed scratching, as in sex. Dont get me wrong I had no qualms masturbating in this big lonely house, there were even toys for it. It feel very attractive doing it but it got the job done. But as any woman will tell you, there is no substitute for the real thing, and I dont know what Susan's sex life was like therefore I had no idea how long it had been since this body had had sex.

I had no idea how to go out and get laid as a girl, at least not as this girl. As a guy you went out with a group of friends at a bar or something and went on the hunt. As Priya all my encounters were on the receiving end of things like this, but Dee's was much to old to go to a singles bar, and I was to nervous to get all dressed up and try to look sexy. So I did the shy and dorky thing and one night I drank a whole bottle of wine and set up an online dating profile.

I didnt do it too seriously, just a profile and basic info. I actually wrote it like Greg would write it. Like I wasnt pretending to be Dee, like I was someone who looked like Dee with Greg's likes and dislikes. I went to bed and forgot about it. It was when I woke up the next morning and saw that I had 38 new emails, most of them responses from the site saying I had new messages. Turns out girls on the internet are so rare that even ones in their 40's get tons of attention.

A lot of the messages were from weird people with incomplete profiles who were clearly just looking to get laid. They werent even subtle about it. A lot of them asked about the status of some of my private parts, others linked me to pictures of THEIR private parts. And even though the main reason I started the website was a drunken desire to get laid, I figured they'd at least have to make an effort.

I started corresponding with a few of the ones who were serious and eventually gave my phone number out to one, whom I'll call Mike for anonymity purpposes. Mike works in some office job in Oxford and was also a divorcee empty nester. He had gone through the typical midlife crisis and had a really cool car to show for it, but lately he had come back to earth and was looking for companionship his own age. He was 2 years older than Dee, had a beer gut, a lot of body hair, and was pretty much bald. Not exactly romance novel material but who was I kidding, I'm not exactly pinup girl material either.

We met at a bar outside the student inhabited part of town. He was impressed that I ordered gin and tonic instead of some girly drink. He was even more impressed about the lengthy conversation we had about Rebel football and their chances next season.

We took a walk after that and I dont know if it was the gin or just my nothing-to-lose attitude but I found myself opening up to him. Talking, laughing, even flirting with him at times. After awhile when it was time to part ways, I found myself asking him back to my place.

He didnt immediately pounce on me once we got there, in fact he talked to me for about 40 minutes, slowly warming his way up to a kiss on the couch. (I later found out that part of the reason was to let his Viagra kick in). After a few minutes of making out he followed me upstairs and we got undressed.

What followed after that was mostly instinct. Its hard to explain, but when youre having sex as a woman its much easier to go on autopilot. That is just zone out and lie back and let it happen. Thats not to say that I wasnt there mentally or that I didnt enjoy it, because man did I enjoy it, but Mike was definitely in charge. It wasnt pretty to look at and Im glad we didnt make a sex tape, but it was just what this body needed. When he finished he cuddled me and we talked for about 5 minutes before he fell asleep.

He woke up in the morning and left early, before breakfast. Which was good because I was really regretting what I had done. I kinda liked the guy but didnt want to lead him on because I had no permanent plans for this body and didnt want to be his girlfriend before I left it. I told him as much when he called me back,(That part about not wanting anything long term, not the part about being a man cursed to look like this), and he seemed to understand, but didnt take it as a permanent goodbye.

We kept emailing and texting each other causually until about 3 weeks later when I called him in a haze of wine and hormones to come over. He did, we enjoyed ourselves, and he left in the morning, fully aware of what the situation was. This became a pattern throughout the rest of my time here. And Im sorry I didnt blog about him or talk about him, I'm not like other bloggers where I post about every new sexual encounter I have immediately.

Anyway, fast forward back to last week. I called him up and had him meet me for dinner, with the intention of telling him we'd never see each other again. The problem is, he was such a witty and polite southern gentleman that the opportunity truly never came up. Either that or I was too chicken to tell him. We wound up going home together and I found myself giving one hell of a performance in the bedroom. Doing my best to give him a good sendoff that way. As I watched him fall asleep I looked at his awkward naked body and decided that whomever gets this life next should have some option of companionship, and decided not to cut him loose for now.

But yeah, thats the one loose end I didnt tie up. Im packing as we speak and should be in Maine by the start of next week. Who knows what changes are in store for me there but I'll blog before the change (Or at least try) and let you know what happens to me and or other people there.

Nervously yours,

Greg

Tori: Houston and Philadelphia

2011-05-29T15:52:00.005-04:00

Houston

I wake up at 2 AM. I can feel him breathing on the back of my neck. I remember when we fell asleep, his arm was draped over me but now it's pressed between us. It's hot in our room under the covers. Sweat clings to my body, my chest and between my legs.

Slowly shifting my body weight, I sit up and plant my feet on the floor. Right where they land, my toes catch, tossed carelessly at the bedside, the panties I'd had on earlier. I slip them over my legs and feel the elastic over my hips. Aside from that, I'm naked, folding my arms across my breasts to keep them steady as I stand and step softly across the room, sneaking out the door.

In the main sitting area there's a seat by the window. I open it a crack and stare out at the lights of the Houston cityscape. I pretend it's not too dark and I'm not too high up for someone to look in and see me sitting, curled up, half-naked. The scenery is beautiful. I can't sleep.

I made such a mess of my interview, I don't even want to relive it by explaining how. I came off as cocky, but when asked for more detailed solutions to example situations, I stammered and second-guessed myself. I kept my composure, but when I walked out of the office feeling like breaking down and crying. I felt like a lie for the first time in years, dressed like a smart, confident woman when inside I'm still just a kid.

I comforted myself with Buddy. I dressed in the shortest skirt I have and the lowest-cut top, and made a lasagna for him when he came home. I tried to imagine myself playing house for a while, staying with him in Houston and finding something else to do with my life. I tried to imagine being that in love with someone. Make that sacrifice. I was going to tell him over dinner that I didn't think I'd be getting the job, but instead I said the interview went fine and we'd see.

I took him to the bedroom. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to sit quietly in front of the TV. I wanted to fuck. If I've got nothing in this life, no career opportunity, nobody I feel I can be honest with, I've at least got a body and I know he likes that. I know he likes me for a lot more than that, but I wasn't interested in talking about seeing the Thor movie.

It was wild, and physical, but brief and ultimately disappointing. After he came, I let him drift off to sleep and quietly began to pleasure myself under the covers. I'm sure in his sleep he heard me moan, but he didn't wake. I've been doing this long enough I know how to make myself come, and I wish he'd learn. He's done it before but it was more like a coincidence, and with a lot of prep time behind it. For a brief instant, as I shudder with orgasm, struggling to keep my legs from shaking and kicking him, I think I should bring him to Maine and let him be a girl for a while. It might be good for him. Fortunately, I know these are just the thoughts of a frustrated, sleepy mind, and I don't think anything of it. I finally fall asleep around 11. Oftentimes at this hour back in Philly, Raine and I are just deciding what to do.

At 2, though, I'm sitting at the window, which is opened a crack, feeling a cool breeze between my breasts. I know, in reality, the answer isn't in Maine. And I don't think it's in Houston anymore either.

By the time I left, all the doubts in my mind had solidified into certainties. Certainty that I didn't belong in Houston, that I didn't belong with Buddy. That whatever I was capable of, I deserved more than a guy who is constantly trying to push me just to go along with him, clinging to me because he doesn't think he can get any better. He deserves someone who wants him a lot more than I do, now.

For the rest of the stay, I was quiet and distant. I couldn't bring myself to pull the trigger, though, to tell him it was over. I don't know how. I was hoping he'd notice, but he'd just keep asking what's wrong and I'd keep telling him "nothing." I feel like I need to prepare, like I need there to be a reason other than "we've grown apart." But whatever happens, it's not going to be fair for him and I know deep down I can't avoid hurting him.

When we said goodbye, I still hadn't heard back from the job. I needed to go back to Philly and go back to my real job, helping businesswomen pick suits that make them look confident and feminine.

Philadelphia

When I landed in Philadelphia, there was a message on my phone saying if I wanted it, the job was mine.

I was so close to accepting. A job is a job and it shouldn't have anything to do with my relationship. My mind kept pushing me back to Houston, saying I could either try to make it work with Buddy, or I could take the job and just end the relationship when it got unbearable.

"Before you say yes, there's something you should know," Alex told me when I met him for lunch the next day. My heart jumped. Maybe I've become such a girl that I expected him to make a big speech saying he was in love with me, despite his complicated past, and knew he was the right one for me and I shouldn't move to Houston for Buddy, I should stay in Philly for him. That he needed me and that he could make me happier.

But that's not what he said. What he said was almost as good. "There's an opening at my company -- the people who paid me to take the course, they need more people. I could recommend you. You'd be a shoe in. It wouldn't be IT, but it would be a real job. You wouldn't have to move or anything."

He knows I have my doubts about Buddy. He supported me in the past but now he's trying to get me to stay. I squirmed in my seat and turned it over in my mind. The choices were clear-cut: Buddy and Houston, or Alex and Philly?

I held the phone in my hand for twenty minutes that night, just trying to dial Buddy's number. Trying to psych myself into it. I could barely breathe as I put the phone to my ear and heard it ringing.

It was voicemail.

With my voice trembling, I told him to call me back, I had to talk to him. It didn't seem right that it would end this way, but it was the only way now.

I had fallen into a nap on my bed when the phone began to vibrate. I saw it was him and answered. "Hey Buddy." Lately I've been calling him that instead of baby or honey or anything.

"Vic, what's up, babe?"

Quietly and without much hesitation, I told him, "I'm not getting the job."

"It's okay, it's okay," he went into his prepared remarks, "We'll find something. You're still coming here, right?"

I took my time answering. "No."

"No? but what about... what will you..."

"Alex told me he could get me a job. I want to stay here, Buddy."

"Alex? Goddamnit, Tori." When I first met Alex I made the mistake of gushing about him to Buddy, and he became (rightly) paranoid. I think this may have been why he kept trying to pull me in to Houston.

At this point, I guess, Buddy realized he was losing it and just let off. He accused me of being a cheater, an unstable, immature, indecisive, man-hungry bitch, and a liar. I just sat there and listened to all these epithets and rants and realized what kind of a person I had been dealing with.

"We're done, Buddy."

"Yeah," he said bitterly. "I guess we are."

Click.

And that was it. I spent the rest of May trying to decide if I was upset about this, or if I was happy it was over, or if I felt anything anymore. I met Alex's boss and got a job basically being the "Tech bitch" at the shipping company where he works.

So that's where I'm at now. Sorry I took so long to tell you, but I went from being too depressed to post to too busy.

I'll tell you more of what's happened as soon as I can. Thanks to Alia and Todd, my "writing coaches" for helping me organize all these thoughts. You're the best.

Love, Victoria Pearce.

Greg/Didi: The Home Strech

2011-05-18T00:36:00.000-04:00

Right, so its been something ridiculous like 8 months since I updated you on my saga, but since then there hasnt been much to update on. Im still in the body of Dolores Henderson. Im still in Oxford, Mississippi working a desk job in a college administration. Im still pretty bitter about what happened to me. The major blog-worthy change in my life, is that Ive got a reservation at the Trading Post Inn.

To be honest Id given a lot of thought as to whether or not I wanted to become a "Traveler" like Fletcher or whether I would just not tempt fate once again and live out my days in this body, but by January it became quite clear that I wasnt going to stick around.

The most glaring difference is the age progression? Youve heard the expressiong "Youre only as old as you feel?" well I feel ancient. Dee did NOT take care of herself and as a result I get up every morning feeling constant aches in my back and neck as well as all of my joints. It might have something to do with the nicotine cravings but probably a lot more to do with the terrible shape I'm in.

Dont get me wrong, Ive tried to exercise and diet, but when a woman gets to be my age, her metabolism slows way down. Combine that with Dee's genetics and you get almost no results. Its frustrating as hell to spend two weeks eating salad and going to the gym being laughed at in your sweatsuit only to find that you havent lost a single pound. At some point you just think to yourself "Its not worth it, I'm leaving this body anyway" and eat a hamburger.

Another thing that I hate about being her is the loneliness. I'm a recent divorcee who lives in a house all by herself. Dee's son doesnt seem to like her or get along with her either. Its not an actively angry relationship, in fact its rather cold. Like "oh yeah youre my mom". In a way thats worse. Ive spoken to him once, and that was arounnd Christmas when he told me that he was going on a trip with his friends. It wasnt a big deal when I hung up, because I dont even know the guy, but when Christmas morning rolled around and I was alone, I started sobbing. It really hits you how much you lost on holidays, because all your memories are attached to those days. I thought of my childhood, of Amber, even last year when I didnt even celebrate Christmas because I was Hindu was better because at least I had my friends in Chicago. It was that post holiday depression that caused me to pick up the phone and call the Trading Post Inn.

I didnt call on the first day, or even the first week. I waited until the end of January. My reasoning for this is because people would be trying to get back to their rightful bodies. I didnt want to mess up anyones "swap chain" so I waited until I thought most people wouldve had that set up before I called. My goal is to get the body of some unknowing tourist, keep it safe for them, and give it back the next year.

So I made my reservation starting June 19th. Since then Ive pretty much checked out mentally, sometimes not even bothering to pretend to be Dee. Lately ive been more talkative and as the day approaches I get less and less stressed out. Ill probably post more in the coming weeks

-Greg/Didi

Tori: She's got baggage

2011-04-28T22:21:00.003-04:00

I'm packing for Houston. The company I'm interviewing with wants to meet me in person, which I guess is a good sign. It certainly says a lot about where I am in my life that this is a decision I have to make.

The further I go from the East coast, the further I go from the Trading Post Inn, the life I used to live in Buffalo, and the one I've come to like as Tori, and the closer I get to having a future with Buddy, having a career and living in a new phase of my life.

Is two years long enough to forget who I was? Is six months of a relationship long enough to make this kind of choice? Is there any reason to do it other than that? Do I want this job? Do I want this life? Like I've said before, I wish someone would make the decision for me. I certainly never made the decision to become Tori, nor to keep being her after the first year, but it's worked out for the best. If you knew my track record as Cliff, you'd know it's not impressive. If I uproot myself for Buddy, and it doesn't work out... it could destroy me, emotionally at least. But I can't let this fear stop me from taking a chance on something good, at least that's what Alex is telling me. He's so supportive.

I look over at my suitcase at the end of my bed, at the clothes I've folded up into it, all the cleavage-baring tops and low-rise jeans and clean panties... when I first inherited Tori's wardrobe, I didn't know what to make of any of it. Now I spend my days surrounded by it, helping other women size themselves up and accessorize, and I don't feel the slightest bit self-conscious pulling on a cute pair of frilly undies. Buddy still makes fun of me, despite this, because he sees me as boyish because I cut my hair and read Sci-Fi.

If I don't get this job, I've been thinking about breaking up with him. I'm not sure there would be any point. I'll have to see how I feel about him when I get there. Lately, the distance thing has made him so paranoid and difficult to deal with, but we still have our good times. He's been asking about another video of me "going to town" on myself, but I've been reluctant. I tease him, saying he can wait for the real thing, but there's a darker reality.

Mae started dating this guy. She introduced him to neither me nor our parents, which I guess is fine, I could've seen myself wanting that level of privacy if I'd dated in high school. The problem is, she took some pics of herself for him -- not nudes, thank God, but very revealing -- and I guess they hit a rough patch since they ended up as attachments in a mass e-mail. Even I got them.

She has a pretty cavalier attitude about it... she's hurt, but not as pissed as she ought to be. Mom and dad were ticked, though, and Mae has asked about staying with me, and I haven't explained the likelihood that I won't be in Philly much longer. She knows something's up, but I haven't talked it out with the family the way I probably should have. It's a remnant of my upbringing, where we didn't talk about anything in the family unless it was an absolute necessity.

Anyway. I don't want that to be me. I felt personally betrayed when those pictures of Mae came out, and I don't even know the guy. I like to think I can trust Buddy, but can I trust him to delete that video of me if we break up? Am I going to let myself be held hostage because of a stupid mistake I made when I was drunk/lonely/horny?

If I'm having these thoughts, is it really smart to be considering moving forward with this relationship? Or can I go on selling skirts and shoes the rest of my life?

Tori: The easy road

2011-04-20T14:24:00.006-04:00

Unbelievably, I finally found a job opening in Houston for an accounting firm's IT department. I've never been so nervous about writing up a cover letter. Hell, I don't even think I was that nervous the first time I let myself have sex with a guy. In it, I wrote of my qualifications, my interest in the field, and the fact that although I am currently located in Pennsylvania, I am eager to move.

Maybe eager was the wrong word, but it's the one I went with.

I think this is going to be it. This is a make or break scenario for my relationship, I think... if I don't get this job, I think all the doubts I'm having about Buddy are going to explode and it's going to have to end. Even though I feel amazing when I'm with him, the distance just magnifies everything that's wrong between us. He also deserves someone who is willing to be there for him the way he wants, and if I can't bring myself to be that girl... sigh.

This is coming largely from a talk I had with Alex. He's helping to keep me on an even keel about this, helping me not feel guilty about considering breaking up with Buddy but also allowing me to consider how much I do like him. He knows this is tough for me, although obviously he can't know exactly why.

It's funny. Whenever we're together, we always talk about me. Since I've been Tori, I've always hated talking about myself because I'm worried I'll slip up and start talking more about Cliff. Obviously I can't be worried that people will "find me out" (although sometimes I wonder about Buddy's accusations that I'm "more of a boy" than most girls) but I just feel like that part of my life is done and it has no point. So now I only have about two years' worth of memories to draw on, and abstract writings from a bunch of diaries that didn't really happen to me. But somehow we always get by and I never stumble.

I'm also very cautious about what I say to him because inside I'm dying to know if he really did have sex with Danny, or if he's gay or what... but I can't bring myself to ask, because I'm worried the answer will affect my opinion of him. Either he's gay or bi or whatever, and he didn't tell me, and I'm disappointed about him lying, or he's not, and I don't... have as much reason to keep him at arm's length.

Okay, secret time, guys. I'm attracted to Alex. There. I obviously don't intend to do anything about it, since I'm still with Buddy and hoping to make it work... but I feel so guilty about it. I wish it could be as simple as "dump Buddy, date Alex," but it's not, because I still have stronger feelings for Buddy, because he was my first... man-love, I guess.

But there was this moment when we were doing laundry and he was loading some of my stuff into the dryer, and I made a crack about how "usually I like to know a guy better before I let him handle my panties." He smiled and said he figured we were pretty close by now, what's a little underpants between friends? That sent a little jolt through me and I thought "That felt nice... oh, shit, that was flirting!" and after being very careful about what I said for the rest of the afternoon, I spent the next few days replaying that moment in my head, feeling happy, guilty, excited, scared, nervous, etc etc.

I've never been good at making choices like this. I hope this job just works out and I can go on with my life.

Tori: Simplify

2011-04-17T19:18:00.004-04:00

Okay, so I'm done school... now what?

Alex, for instance, got a job at a company. I, meanwhile, still sell skirts and blouses to girls getting their first receptionist jobs. Like once a week. That leaves me a lot of time to sit at home and browse the web for other leads on jobs. I thought it would be easy, I don't know, slipping back into stuff I used to feel comfortable doing, like there would be opportunities. I've thought about changing paths again, going to culinary school or something, because I've liked cooking since I was a guy and wouldn't mind getting better... but the idea of spending more time to find something else to do, or not do? Just exhausts me.

I've thought about Houston. Believe me, Buddy won't let a conversation go by without reminding me to think about Houston, but it's not like jobs are any more plentiful there than here. And I mean, no offense to him, I still like him a lot, but I don't want to move down there without something to do. I don't just wanna move there for the sake of someone to date. No matter how I feel about him, I don't think that's any way to live your life.

Maybe it's that kind of thinking that kept me away from romance in my old life. Maybe I'm too used to being on my own, even though ever since I started dating it hurts to think of being without someone. How did I get so dependent? It's not like the day I became a girl I thought to myself "I need a man!" As you'll know from reading this blog it took a long, looooong time for that particular idea to occur to me.

But jeez is this getting old. I can barely even muster up the energy to play with myself anymore (sorry for the tease, all, but I know you like to hear about it.)

On the plus side, I have Alex. I was initially wary about what I heard about him, but somehow he managed to keep himself around in my life and I'm glad he did. I never even asked him about it, it just... feels like it doesn't matter. He can be, and be with, whomever he wants, and if he feels comfortable talking about it, he will. We've gotten really close over the last few weeks, and I feel really glad to have him as a friend... which is something that makes me feel guilty.

I'm allowed to have straight male friends, right? I'm in a relationship, but even if I weren't, I wouldn't have to have feelings for Alex in order to hang around with him, would I? I mean, I lived so much of my life with guys, as a guy, I should be comfortable, I shouldn't think there's anything wrong with just sitting on a couch in my apartment with him, staring at the TV, channel surfing (is there a new term for that? Menu-surfing?) and not waiting for the inevitable opportunity to jump him.

It's friendship, but I feel guilty for having it and I certainly don't feel comfortable discussing Alex's existence with Buddy. Is that wrong? He's said some really paranoid things, which is unappealing, but I don't want to give him a reason. Hell, Alex has given me some pretty valuable advice on being patient with Buddy. We were having lunch the other week, and I was sorta... spilling my guts about how annoying it is that he's desperate to get me to go to Texas, and Buddy reminded me that I could put it off as long as I wanted, but if I was going to call it a relationship, I was going to have to put in the work.

I told him sometimes it feels too much like work and not enough like fun, and he said well, that's life.

Sorry for the rambling, disjointed posts, all... maybe it's because I don't get on here much, and I forget to mention specific events. Hope you're all well!

Alia: Not a breakup, not a marriage proposal

2011-04-06T19:10:00.001-04:00

I feel like our absence from the blog should tell you how good things have been going in our lives lately, Todd and I. Todd's just finishing up his undergrad and I'm still mulling over whether to go to teacher's college in the fall. It's funny, a few years ago if you'd have suggested I might become a teacher, I would have smacked you. Then I was Rob and didn't feel so bad about it as a possible career plan.

The truth is, I'd like to completely leave this blog and be off in happily ever after, but Todd and I are trying to figure out exactly what that's supposed to be. We love each other, and probably for the first time since we started dating, our relationship is comfortable. But we're not the types of people to get married and have kids, even though that's generally what people do. In a way, we thrive on drama, and spoken or not, Todd and I worry about being status quo.

So it all sort of exploded last month when one of my stupid cousins got pregnant again and Todd and I were invited to the "couples baby shower." Todd expressed irritation at the pressure my parents put on me to give them grandchildren, to say nothing of their opinion of Todd... suffice it to say they don't see him as son-in-law material.

So we were talking it out and it got heated, and Todd asked me whether I agreed with my parents that I should have kids before I'm 30, and I said no. He then asked if I thought I should have kids ever, and I said I was leaning towards yes eventually and he immediately accused me of "parroting" my mother, which as all you gentlemen should know, always gets said about five seconds after you should have shut the hell up already.

That was a big fight, comparable to ones we've been having for years. The weird thing is, he's actually talked about having kids before: he was so impressed with Anne-Marie's kids, he admitted to me, he wouldn't mind having a couple of his own someday. I do, however, think he gets freaked out by babies.

Anyway, the whole thing is still unresolved, but we've called a detente, as you can guess: he does read this blog and probably wouldn't like me saying anything here I hadn't already said to him. I think the main thing we can agree on is: no kids for now.

Cheers,
-Alia

Tori: Maybe too much truth

2011-04-01T22:34:00.002-04:00

I have a headache. I'm lying on my bed refreshing the same boring-ass websites and re-reading old webcomics because I just can't bring myself to go out. Hell, it even took me this long (and opening my third beer) to realize this is pretty much exactly why I blog.

So my attempts to make Alex and Raine into a thing went bust, pretty much for the most bizarre reason. After it all went down, and Alex was getting a little awkward around me at school, Danny clued me in to something I would never have expected. He and Alex have... a past.

Excuse me?

Now, maybe I don't have the finest-tuned gaydar in the world, but I could've sworn Alex was all about girls. I really thought when we met he was into me, and he certainly didn't bring it up when I offered to fix him up with Raine. Anyway, Danny and Alex apparently agreed not to tell, but Raine dragged it out of Danny while I was away from the table and Alex was having a smoke. Even Alex doesn't know she knows. Danny ordered me not to tell. "Don't worry," I assured him with a smirk, "I'm great with secrets."

But of course, those are mainly my own secrets. Now when I'm around Alex, I can't read him and I just want him to be honest with me, because I feel like that's a barrier to our friendship. I don't know if he's gay or bi or what.

Meanwhile, I can't talk with Buddy without him pressuring me into looking for jobs down in Houston. Even though I want the relationship to continue, I don't feel like we're at a good place where I can make that sort of commitment. I get frustrated with him because he's single minded about this sort of thing. I guess he feels, because he's "doing something" with his life, he's entitled to me making decisions for mine based around him. Anytime I've ever hinted that maybe I'd prefer staying in Philly has been met with an instant fight. Add to that the layers of sexual frustration and loneliness that pressure the relationship even further and... bleh.

I didn't ask for this life. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I didn't ask to be this person. I'm doing my best to be her, though. Believe me.

Tori: Regrets of a fifth wheel

2011-03-19T20:42:00.000-04:00

Ah, uh, ok.

My social life has jostled around a bit since Buddy went down to Houston. It was one thing when I could go to New York and see him every weekend, I didn't need to worry about going out and doing stuff without him. Now, I try to stay in, and when I want to go out I have to play wingwoman to Raine (and avoid being hit on) or bring Danny along to be my gay shield.

I was determined to make St. Patrick's Day work, because that was supposed to be where my plan to fix up Raine and Alex came together. I made sure to let them know it was a fix up (I mean, what was I gonna do, trick them into hitting it off?) or at any rate an "introduction." To make sure I didn't become a third wheel, I invited Danny along. Problem was, he had a date for the night, so I became a fifth wheel. But I was determined to have a good night, so I pulled on a green top and hit the town.

This worked fine at the beginning, when I was helping Raine and Alex get into a groove while Danny had his date, and we were outside the bar waiting to get in. Once we were in and the drinks started flowing, I let myself get shut out while two dates happened around me. One was Raine desperately trying to find common ground with Alex, and the other was Danny and his boy getting really drunk really quickly, and then getting really handsy.

It's weird: I was a straight guy, and now I'm a straight girl, I guess... so the sight of two guys kissing is really weird for me. Yes, I kiss guys now, but I guess I'm still really "hetero," so seeing two guys kissing is... well not wrong, but still unusual. Maybe I was gawking. Actually, I know, as I got drunker, I was pretty much just staring. They didn't seem to mind. I had nothing else to do and no desire to talk to anybody else.

When I excused myself to the restroom, I met a waitress who told me she was getting weary of being hit on. I told her that since I'd been in a long-distance relationship, I was missing the attention I'd gotten when I was single. This was unthinkable just months ago... when I was turning guys away all the time, because the idea of any man showing interest in me was just too odd. Now I would've killed for something casual just for the night. And I felt super-guilty about that.

When I got out, Raine and Alex were gone, which I took as a good sign. Danny and his boy were on the dancefloor, and it was nearly 1 AM and I had class the next day, so I excused myself.

When I got home, I made sure Raine and Alex weren't around (I deduced they'd gone to his place,) I went to my room. But I was restless (and friggin' horny, I'm sure you won't mind me saying) and desperate for contact, so I turned on my cam and made a video of pleasuring myself and sent it to Buddy.

Now, if I had ever been a teenage girl, I probably would've learned by now that sending out naked videos of yourself via the internet is not a smart idea, so when I woke up the next morning, it was all I could think of. I felt so stupid and embarrassed and frantically wrote up an e-mail explaining myself. But not before getting his response: a polite "thank you" and a photo of his erect cock.

And I mean, it was a nice gesture, but what am I supposed to do with a picture of a cock? I mean, I know it's his, but his face isn't even in the photo. It's just a dick. As comfortable as I've gotten handling the equipment (and being handled by it!!) just the sight of one isn't enough to get me wet in the panties. All I could do was laugh nervously.

I'm really a silly stupid girl sometimes when it comes to stuff like this. Not feeling like a credit to either my current gender or my old one.

Then the next day, I asked Alex about it. He was pretty sketchy on the details, saying they fooled around a bit but it ended when she got a bit sick (ugh, that green dye, I think) and he let her sleep on his couch. (The gentlemanly thing to do would've been to let her take the bed, but WHATEVER.) I pressed him for more, his opinions on her and prospects of seeing her again, but he was shy about it. I guess I've forgotten guys don't really talk about this stuff the way girls do. Huh.

Raine gave the same account, with an equal amount of weariness. I'm not sensing a lot of enthusiasm from either of them, which is sad, since I like them both a lot, and I think they'd make a nice couple.

Tori: Someone around here needs to get laid

2011-03-15T20:42:00.000-04:00

And for once I'm not talking about myself.

Don't get me wrong, it's absolutely frustrating having your boyfriend halfway across the country, but at least I have someone to talk to (slash show my girly parts to via webcam) but Raine has been moping around the house for weeks after a few really negative experience with the opposite sex. When I was a guy, I was of the belief that it wasn't hard for a woman to find sexual attention -- and that's not wrong -- but it's about finding the right guy.

I feel bad, since Raine was pretty instrumental in getting me and Buddy together, so I'm thinking about paying her back. I'm doing something I would never have thought about until recently: I'm fixing her up.

Okay, this is where it gets tricky, since I haven't blogged in a while, you're not really up to speed. I started day classes in tech services last month. It's an 8-week course (I may have accidentally said 6-week in my earlier post) and it's pretty intensive. It's also almost all dudes -- some young guys, a few middle aged guys, and some middle-aged ladies. The reaction I got when I walked in was... well, it's the sort of thing I've got accustomed to over the last few years, but amplified since this is a crowd of computer enthusiasts. I'm striking, but in most contexts not unusually attractive. Here, they just did not know what to make of me.

They're pretty straightforward lessons, with hands-on assignments. Some people have been partnering up, but I'm mainly left to my own devices. It's the first time in a long while that my looks have made me feel like an outsider. It didn't help that the minute I got my hands on a harddrive, my introverted Cliff tendancies reactivated and suddenly I wasn't a pretty girl, but a skinny guy without a date.

For a while, I tried to make myself more accessible by dressing down, with plain white button-ups and cardigans, but I guess it was in vain. I don't know why I was so desperate to socialize with these folks, I just wanted them to accept the fact that someone who looks like me might be interested in computers.

Finally, in the middle of the second week, we were doing an exercise and I was having a bit of trouble. I used to be very good at my job when I did it, but it does require constant updating. I don't feel like I've lost knowledge, but I'm out of practice and much of what I know is a bit behind the times, even after only two years. This guy I'd noticeed with shaggy black hair and a hoodie -- heh, he kinds reminded me of the main guy from Questionable Content came over to me and asked if I needed help.

Embarrassed and self-conscious about seeming like a helpless girl, I declined and went back to studying the problem but he just stood there. "Look," he said, "I was having trouble with it at first, too. Let me show you what I did."

I rolled my eyes. "Okay, help me out here."

He showed me what I was doing wrong and I felt a little flush because of how obvious it was. He introduced himself as Alex. I shook his hand and said "Tori." Suddenly I had made a new friend.

I was a bit wary, though, so when I saw him the next day, I was sure to work into conversation the fact that I have a boyfriend. "We use Skype a lot, I like computers, he's in Houston right now," blah blah. It probably came off as really forced, but I pushed it out there because I didn't want to mislead this guy. Maybe he wasn't even attracted to me, because he didn't seem very put off by all this.

He's funny, he's smart but not too smart, and not overly shy... he's got kind of a Paul Rudd level of jokey confidence, which I think most girls should like. So after a few weeks, when I decided he was still going to be my friend once we were done learning about computers, I began to hatch this scheme to fix him up with Raine. I haven't told either of them about it yet, so we'll see, but I feel good about helping. Raine's been such a good friend to me since I got here, it's time I do something for her.

Max: Affair

2011-03-03T20:42:00.002-05:00

I never imagined I'd be the other man. I mean, I never imagined myself as a man until a short while ago anyway, but I always thought certain lines weren't meant to be breached. But as always, when you're dealing with Inn-folks, things get blurred, lines cease to exist.

It was just after the holidays, after all the chaos and putting out fires of feuds between Tanya and Melanie, that I got the message. "Hey!! Coming 2 canada. wanna c u." The e-mail was attributed to one "Beatrice Tran." I felt a lump in my throat of nervousness and fear when I realized "Beatrice" was the current identity of the man I'd known as Fletcher, the sketchy drifter -- I'm sorry, "Traveler" -- that wound up as guardian of a Roger, a guy who thought that by staying at the Inn, he might get a chance to be in my panties. I wasn't going to let him, and he ended up in a pair of panties of his own as Beatrice's daughter Lily. I didn't mean to lead him astray, and it's something I've been carrying around with me ever since.

I was not happy about the idea of Beatrice coming to New Brunswick, and part of that was fear that she was bringing her daughter with her. Eventually I got the balls (love that expression) to get back to her, and she clarified her statement: she was coming to Canada alone. Apparently, her life as a housewife was boring, so she took it on herself to do some traveling between stays at the Inn. Whether I invited her over or not, I was going to have to see her.

In fact, she came into my restaurant on New Year's Eve. It was lunch, and I saw from my dishwashing station in the kitchen a statuesque Asian woman dressed in a dark suit with a short skirt. I recognized her, but did not remember thinking she looked that hot. She was, after all, much older than me (mentally, physically, everything,) but it looked like Bea had put in some real effort to make herself... sexy.

She was still here when my shift ended, so I approached her. "What are you doing here?" I immediately asked.

"I told you. I'm bored. I like to travel, whether it involves Maine or not. I know I'm not your favourite person, but we have to stick together."

"We don't have to do anything," I hissed, "I just want to live my life."

"Oh yeah?" she smirked, "And how is that going?"

I was about to say "fine," but paused myself, and, well, let a lot of it out. About how Tanya and Melanie were on bad terms and I was caught in the middle, and how I had a thing for Mel but she turned me down, and how I was sick of all the resentment and bitterness that was flying around the house.

She got a flicker in her eyes. "Sounds like you're thinking about running away."

That started me off. I told her in no way was I considering going back to the Inn again, after all the shit I've had to deal with. It tempts me every day to go back and start again, to wipe the slate clean, but sometimes in life you just need to take the hand you're dealt. Going to the Inn really is a curse... knowing it's there makes you question every moment of your life. But I told her I was determined to ride it all out and keep going with this life as long as I could.

"That's a shame," she rolled her eyes, "Because you know, I've been trying to help my daughter with something, and I was hoping you'd want to take part."

That struck me. She knew I was carrying some guilt for Roger being Lily and was using it against me. I had no choice but to hear her out. Damn my conscience.

"Well," she continued, "As you know, January will be the time to start making plans to go back to the Inn. I don't usually go on an annual basis, but this situation warrants it. Despite what those people reading your blog think, I'm not a monster" -- she sneered while saying this, and used a far less polite expression than "people" -- "They think I'm doing this for my own amusement. Believe me, I'd like nothing more than to be free of responsibility. And if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have a daughter whining about going back to his wife and kids."

"No, you'd have me."

"Exactly. And you could handle it. Being a little girl, having the childhood you never got, or else having to go back to a different body altogether, you're a pro. Look at you! I bet you're even dating. Come on, there's some hot waitresses around here."

I probably looked embarrassed as I muttered that the misadventure with Melanie was my only foray into romance. She smirked. "And here I thought you were all man now. Whatever. You're still pretty adaptable, but as you can guess, Roger isn't up to it. So I'm trying to help him."

My eyebrows perked up. "Is there a problem?"

She nodded. "They've got his body," she said, "Roger's."

I paused, "Who've got his body?"

She cleared her throat. "I don't know who they are. Maybe they're those Pygmalion people your blog friends are always babbling about. Maybe it's someone else. I tried to negotiate with them to get his body back, but he told me not to call anymore. What does that sound like to you?"

I said quietly, "So what now?"

"Like I said, I'm not a monster. I don't want a daughter who's going to spend the rest of her life complaining about how she used to have a dick. And I'm not going to go through the guilt of leaving her behind when I make my next trip. So what I want is assurance that she can get a male body."

I said flatly, "You want me to give Roger my body?"

"If necessary, yes. Please. Consider it a favour to me. Consider it a way to ease your guilt. Look, there's something else I want to give you. Come by my hotel room tonight around 9." She wrote her room number on a napkin, then paid her bill and left.

Against my better judgment, I went. She answered the door in a lacy red bra and panties. I was... surprised. She pulled me in.

When I asked her what the hell she was up to, she made her pitch quickly. "Look, it's sad. If you can't get your little girlfriend to feel the same way, that sucks, but you shouldn't let it stop you from enjoying yourself. So consider this a freebie."

"What if I politely decline?"

"Then you're the biggest pussy I know. Come on. I'm gorgeous. I don't like my husband very much. I want this. Go on and tell me you don't." She had her hands all over me.

I got an immense headache just trying to deal with the mental whiplash. I was still somewhat thinking of this person as the scumbag who had come onto me in Maine. In effect, she still was, but in a body I liked more. God help me, I couldn't resist. At the first sight of her, my dick made it perfectly clear of its opinion.

I began to disrobe. When I was down to my boxers, I sato n the bed next to her and began to kiss her.

"Uh uh," she stopped me between pleasure moans, "This isn't high school, Maxy. I'm not your girlfriend. If you're gonna kiss me, it's not gonna be on my mouth." Jesus, who talks like that?

So I laid her back on the bed and began to run my hands all over her as sensually as I could,. I wanted to savor the sensation because, as eager as I was to get down to business, I hadn't felt a woman's body since well before I realized I had the desire for one. She grunted and moaned with pleasure, and it was music to my ears. Soon she began to speed up, and I upped my pace to match. She thrust her legs open and dared me to "show her what I've got."

We had hot, sweaty, illicit sex for about ten minutes or so, and then suddenly she stopped and said "Okay, okay, just finish up already." I swear, this woman. She didn't even seem like she'd had an orgasm, and I like to think I would've noticed.

It was really mercenary and frankly gross, and after it was over I remembered exactly what sort of person I was with. I asked her what all this was really about.

Re-clasping her bra, she told me that in this body, she felt sexy, and wanted that acknowledged, if just this one time. She had had sex with her new husband, but they apparently didn't click. I asked her whether we "clicked."

She flashed that evil smile of hers and said "If you have to ask, you have your answer. Still, it was quite nice. And I consider it a favour to you, and if you want more, you know how to get it."

"I'm not going all the way out to find you just for a booty call," I said flatly.

"I wasn't talking about me. I'm just helping you take a step in a direction you were already looking. now put your pants on, I have an early flight and need my beauty rest."

Women.

She was right, of course. I'd been yearning for female companionship, and was really starting to get a bit down on myself after Melanie's (quite justifiable) rejection. It didn't mean I couldn't look elsewhere.

Bryan: Whatever happened to the teenage dream?

2011-02-25T17:49:00.000-05:00

OK, guys, I would like to start by saying the title of this post is NOT a reference to the Katy Perry song, but to the T. Rex classic.

I haven't checked in lately. Mainly, there's nothing to report: I take pictures for a living, I sometimes get to play guitar with Todd, and I've been dating Shelby. So if you're really interested in the details of the coffee date we had last Wednesday, I'd provide them, but I'm guessing that's a bit too far off the usual subject matter of this blog.

For me, even though Connecticut is way in the past, and I sort of assume I'll never see Crystal again, I still sometimes think about it. I mean, no matter what, my time as Ellie is part of me, and I think it kinda helped me grow up, to feel like a bratty teenager. It's also kinda tempting, if and when things get bad, to think there's a place where I could go and get someone else's life for a while, if I wanted. Thinking about that mostly keeps happy where I am, since I'm well aware of the "grass is always greener" nature of the inn. I mean, for shit's sake, I was hospitalized with a panic attack because a girl broke up with me.

I think about Leanne sometimes though. Not just in a "wonder what she's up to" kinda way, but I think about my time with her. For better or worse, I've never had a relationship like I had with her. So much of my tension and frustration about being stuck in a teenage girl's body was applicable to the situation of two girls sneaking around, so she seemed to understand me better than most. Even Crystal -- we could talk about Inn stuff, but there was a whole other level separating our experiences. I never had to explain myself to Leanne.

The other night I dreamed about her. It sucks how you can't control what you dream about, so stuff you long thought you were done with bubble back to the surface of your mind. I remember her hand on my chest, her fingers teasing me, her lips touching mine, her body close to me... and for a second I forgot I was lying in bed with a really great girl.

I spent the rest of the night unable to sleep. I just laid perfectly still with my eyes clamped shut trying to get back to sleep so I could dream about anything else. I started fixating on this idea that Shelby and I could go to the Inn and no matter what happened, we'd have that in common. But I wouldn't drag anyone into this life, it would be a fucking awful thing to do.

At about 6 AM I decided I wasn't going to get back to sleep, so I did a few things: first, I scrawled down some lyrics, the second, I wrote an e-mail.

The lyrics were a rough attempt at getting my feelings on the matter out. They're not very good, but I can't just chuck them out. It's therapeutic. The main problem is, it's pretty explicitly about longing for an ex, or at least, the memory of an ex (I called it "The Memory Of You") which would be pretty awkward to play while my current girlfriend is drumming in my band. I'm still not even sure how I'm supposed to be feeling... the song is about that complication.

The e-mail was a lot easier in helping me relax. It was to Ellie, of all people. I have hardly talked to her since we got changed back, although Todd has had some contact with Anne Marie. I have no idea what she's up to, what her life's like, who her friends are now, if she dates. It seems a bit odd that I was this girl for nearly a year, and yet I thought I could just put her life back and walk away.

So I fired that e-mail off to what I think is still her address, and have yet to hear back. Maybe something will come from drudging up the past, or maybe I'm just making more trouble for myself.

Tori: I'm not so great with romance but...

2011-02-19T19:50:00.006-05:00

He left on Sunday the 13th, so we had to figure out something Valentines-y to do before that. We decided Friday the 11th would be "our night."

He wanted to make it all about me -- flowers, chocolates, all that stuff. I told him I really wasn't in it for the Hallmark stuff. He said he had a "pretty good idea" what my gift to him was (and he wasn't wrong) so he wanted to turn up the romance in anticipation. So when I got home from my shift at the shop, he had this whole Shrimp Alfredo meal made up. I didn't even know he could cook! Mostly when he was living out of a hotel, we were going out to eat all the time. He said in had come in handy when he was a single guy, and I nearly told him I was the same way... that could've been awkward. It's so rare I even think about stuff from my old life unless I'm sitting here writing on the blog.

I led him to the bedroom and told him to get comfortable. He noticed there were candles all around, and I pointed out that yeah, while I'm not "about" the Hallmark stuff, I still like a nice mood. Maybe that's me being girly. He says it's why he likes me. I tell him to wait while I "prepare" things.

When I came back to the door, I was dressed in a tight, tight miniskirt that makes my ass look amazing, nylons, a blouse, and high heels. He's always said how much he goes for that look, and I rarely have a chance to put it on for him. He sat up when he saw how I was dressed. Then he saw what I had hidden behind me... a pair of handcuffs.

Okay, that's not the kind of thing you just spring on a guy. But one weekend while we were in New York, we went into a sex shop for a laugh, and while I was marveling at vibrators, I noticed him handling set of cuffs in a more-than-curious way. I even asked him, and he said he thought they were "neat." So I bought a pair... for a special occasion. He asked me what I was thinking. I told him he could have a choice: freedom... or chains. I don't know why, but I really thought he was going to pick freedom. Luckily, I was hoping he wouldn't.

So I cuffed him to the headboard, and slowly, slowly began to work him over. I ran my hands up his thighs. I rubbed my breasts against him. Softly ran my tongue all over him... made him watch as I slowly undressed, pulled down my stockings, unbuttoned my blouse, slipped my bra off, one strap after the other, and crawled over to him... I could tell he was suffering such intense agony, such lust, he couldn't control himself. When I decided he was finally ready, I got really busy.

It must've been painful for him. I've never been in that situation, but I can imagine what it's like to have a woman there, teasing you, working over every inch of your body, when all you want to do is get inside and fuck her-- and honestly, it was hard to restrain myself from just climbing on and rocking him senseless, but I needed to go slow. I needed to take every second I could with him because it might be a while before we get to go again. So I felt every inch of his skin, rubbed every muscle he had, made him moan and groan and beg me for mercy. I made him watch while I touched myself, warmed my body up for him, and then finally, after I felt I could do no more... I was ready to get started.

Given the circumstances, I guess I can't blame him for not lasting very long. He's usually pretty good but I'd be lying if I said he was an hour-long type of guy. He's usually only good for a good ten, fifteen minutes tops. Here, with all the extra stuff, by the time we got to the nitty gritty, he was about ready to explode anyway. Maybe I was expecting too much; I know how little control guys have over their stuff, but, I don't know, maybe I had mentally convinced myself he could tough it out.

Anyway, it was good. I know we both enjoyed it. But he was real quiet afterward, like, I guess he didn't like the handcuffs so much after all, or I had overdone it with the pregame. He wouldn't talk to me about it. Men can be so tough when something's bothering them. The few women I ever dated were always very open -- perhaps too much so. I just want a happy medium. Ultimately, it was a pretty awkward way for us to leave off. We've talked a bunch since he got to Texas, but he hasn't mentioned it, so I guess the topic is dead.

Anyway, he's gone now, so that leaves me alone for my day to day life. Days I'm in class, evenings I work at the shop selling skirts and tops and panties and whatnot. Pretending I know how to offer fashion advice. I'll tell you more about that later. Raine and I are gonna go watch Life As We Know It and make fun of it.

Just another Saturday night, I suppose...

Tori: Love sucks

2011-02-06T10:38:00.003-05:00

I'm sorry, but it does, at least for me. I mean, I guess I officially qualify. Whenever I'm with Buddy, I get nervous but in a good way, I get excited when I know I'm going to hang out with him, we get so comfortable together... it's a whole butterflies thing. Sheesh, a while back I didn't think anyone could make me feel this way, let alone a guy.

But it sucks. It sucks, it sucks, it sucks so much because even though I'm pretty sure I'm in love with him, I know we have problems and part of me is really scared it's not going to work out. But I guess that's part of being in a real relationship, is that if you care for somebody, you make it work.

A while ago, I made the mistake of telling him about Leo, the guy I was, um, screwing up until I started seeing him. I maybe didn't "break it off" immediately after Buddy and I started dating, but to me, the whole fling was over as soon as Buddy and I became an item.

It started because we were talking about personal issues, and how he wondered why I seemed to be in such a bad mood on New Year's. I decided it wouldn't hurt to tell him I'd been in a fistfight with Cyndi the night before, and eventually wound up spilling my guts that Leo was at the heart of it. The truth is, Leo and Cyndi had gotten back together so close to me and Leo ending it, I'm still not sure they didn't resume dating while Leo and I were going on. And here I was, thinking telling Buddy this made me look like the good guy.

Well, as he tends to do, he made it about himself. The entire time he'd known me I'd been sheepish about the sex thing, which is why we didn't end up dating right away. So I pushed him away (well, also because I thought I might be getting my male body back, but... yeah.) But, in Buddy's eyes, the second he left town I was all over Leo in this "purely physical" thing that I had passed him over on.

I called BS on that, because it was mainly a timing thing: he left town, I was feeling shitty, never sure if I'd see him again, and Leo was in the right place at the right time. He called BS on "timing" because it was apparently all up to me whether or not we could have dated, all summer. I told him I wasn't ready, he asked what changed, and I said I didn't know, but it was all in the past.

He spent that night at his sister's. I spent it crying on the couch eating comfort food with Raine.

But I guess the reason why the two of us work is that we're capable of putting this sort of thing behind us and getting back to our normal routine. He apologized, I apologized, we both apologized for apologizing so much and for a few weeks things went back to normal.

And God, what a great two weeks that was. I don't work a ton and he's not going to Texas yet, so we spend a lot of our time fooling around in bed, or trying to cook for each other, or going out for walks in the snow... I mean, this is great, this is the kind of relationship I always wanted (albeit I didn't always want to be the one with the... uh, yeah.)

It's just sucky that it has to be complicated. You can love someone, obviously, but that's not automatically going to make them into who you want them to be. You'll both still have difficulties and insecurities to overcome and it isn't as easy as you want it... but if you can't stand the thought of being without that person, well, yeah, I think that's love.

One last thing that sucks: he's going away soon. As in... before Valentines Day. And damnit, I wanted my first Valentine in a real relationship in years (and first as a girl, natch) to be worth writing about.

Oh well... guess we'll have to do something super-sexy on the 11th...

Max: Moving ahead

2011-02-04T19:55:00.007-05:00

I guess I'm a bit lazy when it comes to writing my story out here. It's not that I don't have the time, but as we get further and further from the starting point, the story seems to change. But let's jump forward a bit.

All through the winter, it got colder and we all got a bit closer. Melanie continued to mesmerize me with her attitude. From everything I know about men, about people... about this blog, a man who's been transformed into a woman should not take it so... well. I don't mean she was out in skimpy outfits clubbing and hitting on dudes, I just mean, to watch her, to see her walking around and dressing herself, and speaking for herself, you'd never guess anything was amiss with her. Nothing seems to bother her. Hell, she even kept up with her homework. I found this confidence in the face of life-altering trauma... fascinating, and yeah, really kind of attractive.

Tanya, on the other hand... did not keep up so well. From the beginning, she took the change very hard. She's a very controlling woman in a situation where she has to play by someone else's rules (or the Inn's, or whatever.) Plus, it's become increasingly apparent she has some real body image issues... I don't think she's taken it well that Melanie is the "thin, modestly-curvy" sister and she's the, well... "big" one. I wouldn't say she's fat, but she has a noticeably fuller figure. And maybe, yeah... she's a bit overweight.

I guess around late fall, the cracks in their "relationship," such as it was, really started to become visible to her. It's not like they could present themselves as a couple out in the world, but Melanie was, I later learned, no longer willing to even pretend they were "together" in any sense. From my room beneath them, I could hear arguments.

Tanya: Where is this all coming from? You can't deny we had something! You can't pretend this never happened!

Melanie: I wouldn't! I wouldn't pretend it never happened, Tanya--

Tanya: Don't call me that, you know that's not my name--!

Melanie: It is! While we're here, it is, and I can't switch back and forth like that. Max knows exactly what I mean--

Tanya: Shut the fuck up! This is all so convenient for you, isn't it? You pretended like everything was fine but suddenly we get here and you--

Melanie: I "what?"

Tanya: Now you want to play girl, and dress cute and date boys...

My ears perked up. But it got quiet, and after a few minutes I heard the door slam and footsteps toward the door. I wondered which one was coming. Of course, it was Mel.

"Hey," she said. She had streaks of tears down her eyes and her arms folded across her body for warmth. "How much of that did you hear?"

"A lot. What was it about?"

She sat down on my couch-bed. "Who knows? I may be a woman, but that doesn't mean I've got them figured out."

I snickered, "Join the club." Mel was unamused.

"I guess," she said, "That was our breakup. Officially. I mean, we've been broken up for a long while now, but I just had to break the chain, just finally get it out there."

"So it's over? I mean, what if you guys go back, and..."

I trailed off and she picked up my meaning, "Even if we go back, even if we get where we belong, it won't fix things. I've seen a side of her, and she's seen a side of me, we're just... we don't belong together anymore, no matter who we are."

"Well that's unfortunate."

"It's okay. She's just mad she's not in control anymore. And she hasn't gotten laid in a while."

I wanted to laugh at it, it was intended to be a joke, but maybe there was some serious to it. Sex can be a real stress reliever, and some women don't handle dryspells as well as they'd like to. It's not like sitcoms, you know. And seeing her now-ex happy and confident and uninterested in her body must've really stung. Like, I get it. I've got my own crap to worry about, but I get it.

I just wanted to know if this meant there was room for me in Melanie's life.

Weeks passed. Things were tense. Tanya, like Melanie, began venting to me and I got to know her a bit better, but she remained guarded. She would repeat her claims that Melanie was clearly eager to start "playing girlfriend," for some male, but Mel insisted Tanya was way off base. As I was kind of into Melanie, I found this a bit hard to deal with, because if it was true, it gave me hope, but I definitely didn't want to push her before she was ready.

It was around early December that I "manned up" and put it on the line.

Mel and I had been seeing a lot of each other, spending time together outside the house, and I guess I began to take it as a sign she was ready for something. Progressively over the early weeks of winter, she got more and more familiar with me.

We were out at dinner one night and I just... came out with it. "Melanie... do you see me as a boyfriend?"

"What?"

"I mean, we hang out a lot. You don't socialize with many people other than me. We talk about everything. Am I, like, a boyfriend substitute for you?"

She hesitated for a long while before saying "Is that something... you'd want?"

I played coy. "Maybe... I mean, we seem to have some chemistry."

"Chemistry?" she balked, "I don't really think so. I mean, you're a great person, guy or girl, but... I mean, I don't see you that way. No offense. I mean, you know I'm not trying to date or anything, right?"

"Right."

"I've been in relationships for so much of my adult life, I don't know... I like not being with anybody. If anything, I see you as a way to protect against that-- Oh God, that came out wrong. It's just... it's not sexual, this thing. I'm not a sexual person, I don't think. It's a friendship, you know? It's companionship. But it's not... I don't want to put a label on it or... yeah."

I was stunned, heartbroken. She could tell I had been hurt and from then on has been a bit more distant from me. I tried not to let it show, but... I don't know. I guess I never really "confessed" my feelings, but it's clear she now knows what I was thinking.

Tori: Under one roof

2011-01-25T23:05:00.003-05:00

Since Buddy's job ended last week, he's been staying with me in Philly while we start moving my stuff over to my new place at Raine's. Sara's nearly moved out, so I can go over there anytime I want... I'm just having a hard time saying goodbye to the family.

I'm hoping having Buddy around will give me that motivation, because it's a little awkward knowing that dad will go down to the kitchen in the morning and see the guy who is banging his daughter sitting at the kitchen table. I mean, he's a cool guy and he takes it in stride, but I guess I imagine it's a front, like he'd rather not see that. I know I'd rather he didn't.

Really, it's been a remarkable step for our relationship. Before this, it was mainly about trying to keep the lines of communication open between sex. Now we're actually have to be together and do stuff. I mean, it's a lot of work. I'm used to having a lot of space and nothing to do, and now... it seems like we've always got to be doing something together.

I've been in relationships before. I never had sex as a guy, but I very nearly married my long-term girlfriend, so I know what it's like. I've just gotten so used to having nobody around that it's hard to update my routine. After the first few nights, we even started going to bed without having sex. I didn't know what to do. He wasn't even hard.

Now that I'm not working at the telemarketer, I was worried it would just be us sitting around the house all day bored, and then we'd eventually realize we didn't have much in common (totally not true) but I did get a new job. Thankfully it wasn't as hard as last time, because in the time since I've worked there I've managed to get enough new contacts and references that speak to me as a person (not just a hairdresser, as Tori was) that I got a job at one of the first places where I applied. This was especially weird since it was just past the holidays, so I wouldn't have thought it would be available.

It's nothing much, just a little clothing shop, a little boutique that opened up. I guess I got a bit of a feel for it since shopping with Raine. I've only worked like 20 hours per week since I started, but the girls there are really nice. The main catch is that they prefer we wear the stuff we sell, so I can't go to work in jeans and a t-shirt anymore (not that I thought I would be.) The clothes themselves aren't that remarkable, although I do look good in them.

Of course, this became a thing with Buddy, who's always tried to get me to dress sexier for him. I told him, here I thought I was sexy no matter what, and he says yes, but he'd rather I look the part. I just rolled my eyes instead of starting another fight over it. I think it bothers him when I make decisions that aren't based around him. That could be a problem later.

Sigh, this whole Houston thing. I don't know if I'm going to want to go, but I don't feel like ending it with him. And I really don't know if I trust myself going back to being single. Last time I was single, I was dead-set against going home with anybody, now I don't know that my judgment will be so intact. That's not a very good reason for keeping a relationship. And I really do like him. Maybe I love him, definitely when he's not being an asshead about my hair or my outfits or my job or my life. But do I "Houston-love" him? I'm getting ahead of myself. I won't even be done "school" until April. He knows I'll be here until at least then. I just need to keep the relationship afloat until that.

The family seems to like him. He says all the right things to mom and dad, he even won Mae over, so she doesn't judge me for dating him. Although if she nudges me and says "You should let him get you pregnant soon" again, I'm gonna smack her.

We're in a good place, I just need to be ready for it all to change.

Max: The Grind

2011-01-19T15:07:00.005-05:00

Hectic early days of transformation turned into routine. Life slowed down. My life became a blur of work and home, nothing really seemed important. I was in serious danger of going on autopilot, which is bad news. When you step into someone else's body and life, stagnancy is hard to stave off, because you just don't know what to do.

I had the monkey on my back of attraction to Melanie. I would catch myself glancing her way at dinner, trying to find moments when she wasn't looking to get a glimpse of her face, her body. Wondering, if I was feeling this way about her, what was to stop her from thinking about me? But I was loaded with doubt. It wasn't likely she was there yet, not to mention, her "sister" slash "girlfriend" or whatever you want to think about their relationship, in plain view of the both of us. I couldn't in flinch in Melanie's direction without Tanya being aware. For a few weeks I barely spoke to anyone.

I can see the dining area from my station at work. Every time a pretty woman walks in I look over at her and try to think of her the way I had thought of Melanie. Sometimes I could see it taking shape. the way the blonde in the black dress might flick her hair to the side, or how the hipster girl with the glasses might look naked... and I thought to myself, I have the desire and the opportunity to go talk to any woman out there, if I want to. So what was stopping me?

A hot woman would walk into the store, and I know she's hot... like, guys, I know you have trouble admitting it when one of your own is attractive (and even pretend like you don't know) but women know. One of the guys in the kitchen would give me a nudge, and I'd just shrug like "She's ok," because she wasn't giving me that feeling.

Then the guy eventually asked, "Come on, man. What are you, gay?" And that question bothered me, so I just said "I don't know, maybe," expecting him to keep making fun of me for it.

But he didn't, oddly enough, he just went back to his work and said "Okay, let me know if you figure it out." Canadians!

Then a few weeks later, Melanie must've noticed I was acting weird around her, because she cornered me and kinda called me on it. She came down to the basement while I was playing Mario on the Wii and sat down next to me. I had no choice but to sit and talk with her.

"I just notice you getting really shifty around me, looking in my direction. We never talk, you don't hang around much. What's going on?"

She's got this "girl" thing down. Maybe it was the spell of the Inn putting her in that light for me, but she seemed so sensitive and delicate in her mannerisms I nearly spilled my guts.

But instead, I just kind of stammered out a response along the lines of, "Oh, I've just been giving you guys space, you know. I worry about you guys. I know this wasn't your first choice for how to end up..." I struggled to complete the thought, "It must be taking a real toll on you and her, and I'm not her favourite person, so I thought it'd be safer to just... keep my distance."

"Don't say that," she said, "Tanya thinks very well of you. She just doesn't show it well. She had a lot of anger pointed at you at the beginning, but I told her over and over that you had no more control over this than we did. Now she just wishes she felt like she could talk to you."

It's sad -- I had thought Tanya and I had had a nice moment early on, but I guess she wasn't immediately convinced about me. In faking concern for the two of them (well, it was real but not the real answer to her question) I found out how hard we had to work to bridge the gap between us.

I turned the subject over to two of them. "How are you guys... doing"

"Us?" she smiled that pretty, innocent smile, "There isn't really an 'us' anymore. We're done. Just don't tell her. I don't think she's ready to hear it."

"Oh really?"

"Well, come on, Max. Let's be honest here. We're not only both girls, but we're sisters, living under their mother's roof. It's been very hard to feel like a couple."

"Do you feel like sisters?"

She laughed, "To be honest, I feel like we're strangers. She still wants to talk to me like I'm a man, but there's this very obvious fact that I'm not. And it's sick, but this whole change has shown me how weak our relationship was. I'm starting to feel like it was always about sex for us. Without that, without planning dates and talking about work, and... and fucking, we don't have a lot of common ground."

"Sounds like you've thought about it."

"Believe me, I'll miss it. I'll miss her, but she's gone. She's not the woman I loved-- thought I loved. And I'm not her man anymore."

"But you say she's not ready to hear it?"

"I don't think so."

"So what does this mean for you?"

"It means..." she sighed. I watched her breasts raise and lower softly. "It means I live my life. This life. And she lives hers. And whatever happens to us, happens."

"And how does it feel you'll be living, at least for a while, as a girl?"

She scrunched her face up with a smile, "I'd rather not talk about it. Is that weird? I mean, I feel really comfortable around you and everything, I just... I'm not ready to dig into it. It's very... one day at a time. I know you used to be a girl, and Tanya's been really good about stuff, but I'm not going to want to start talking about it for a while yet."

"Well, whenever you're ready to talk, I'll be here."

"Thanks," she said, then laughed slightly, "That almost sounded like a come-on!"

I bit my tongue. It almost was.

Tori C: A rough night for Victoria and her Buddy

2011-01-16T23:24:00.004-05:00

When I got to New York, I was definitely expecting Buddy to be surprised at my new hairstyle, but I didn't expect him to flip out about it. I mean, it seems so innocent. It's just hair, it's not what defines me, it's not who I am. In fact, having short hair might make me more myself.

But when I took off my hat (a silly wool cap with ear flaps) and he saw what had happened, he just stared a while. "Well, that's... wow."

"Cute, right?"

He winced. "Uh, maybe? I don't know."

"What do you mean you don't know? Everyone else has said it's nice."

"Well everyone else isn't dating you. I kinda would've liked a head's up at least."

"What's the big deal? It's just hair!"

Then he goes off on this whole thing about communication and trust and whatever, and how we're long distance so we should be paying special attention to that kind of thing because he can't be near me all the time -- and when I ask him just what is that supposed to mean, he says to drop it, it was a poor choice of words. I don't push the issue, but it still sticks with me.

I told him I didn't tell him because it was spur of the moment, and if I'd spent time talking to anyone about it, I probably wouldn't have done it, even though I'm happy with it. He insists I should have, and accuses me of making "a lot" of spur-of-the-moment decisions lately. Leaving my job, moving in with Raine. I guess he feels like we're on shaky ground. It seemed like neither of us could say the right thing, because I told him not to be insecure, and that sent him off into the snow for a few hours.

I had already called Ken to see if I could crash on their couch, if this fight was going to last all night, but I wanted him to come back first. I ordered up some food to tide me over since the two of us were clearly not eating together. He came back around 7, drunk, but I guess he hadn't eaten since he was mad I hadn't ordered anything for him.

I tried to apologize, but things just got worse until I finally just had to leave. I was in tears again, worrying about fucking up my first serious relationship as a girl right when it was starting to get good.

Ken and Jana were just about ready to get to bed by the time I arrived. And so was I, so I laid out on the couch with a comforter and tried to get some rest. Before I fell asleep, I heard a buzz in my purse. A text message from Buddy.

"I'm so sorry. I love you so much."

That hit like a fist in the face, and I spent so much time staring at it, trying to figure out what I wanted to say in response that I fell asleep without answering.

It didn't come up again the next day when we met up for breakfast, at this little corner cafe we like. Mostly we just talked about the future. In February, I'm starting night courses in computer repair -- it isn't anything I need to re-learn, but nobody knows that. Mainly I just want to brush up and get certified. It's a 6-week course and then I'll probably be able to get a job and just go on living my life.

That's when he told me he was moving around again. He's got a new gig in Houston, and if he's lucky it might become permanent. I went stone cold at this. If we were having this much trouble with him just a state over, how were we going to do with half a country between us?

Then he told me he was thinking, if it turns permanent, and we're in a good place, how would I feel about moving to Houston with him?

And I just didn't know what to think about it. Uproot myself again, leave this city, leave the family, commit, and basically give up the option to become Cliff again? I mean, I am basically done with that life, but I guess I just thought it would make an effective back-up plan if I ever needed it. I haven't even heard from Willie in months. Last I heard he was in England still.

I told him we'd see what happened. It's a possibility. But deep down it really feels like just too much to handle. To completely base my lie around this relationship? That would be different.

We went to the bus depot, and he told me to think about it and I said I would. I gave him a big hug and a kiss -- his lips were ice cold but his breath was so warm. We just stood there a while in our winter coats, holding each other, and he said to me, "Have a nice trip, Vic."

I looked up at him. He's never called me Vic before. I asked him where that came from and he said, "Your family all calls you Vic. I thought maybe I could call you that, too. Maybe since you're changing your life, you might like a new name. New haircut, new identity."

I smiled. It was a little bit of a dig, but kinda sweet also? Like, mean but also being cute, after all, it's a guy's name, and he makes it a point to remind me any time I do or say anything guyish, including my short hair. I told him it was all right if he wanted to keep calling me that. I've learned not to get too attached to names. You never know when you might wake up with a new one.

I kissed him on the cheek and told him goodbye. I spent the whole ride home wondering what Vic was gonna do next.

Tori C: Impulsive behavior

2011-01-15T17:55:00.003-05:00

I've been an emotional mess lately. Things aren't even that bad, but I've felt so stressed out by life now that I'm trying to make things happen with it, it makes me just want to hide in my room curled up in a little ball.

I've been packing up my stuff for when I move in with Raine on February 1, into Sara's old room. It's a bit far in advance, but it's important for me to go through all this junk, both inherited from Tori and accumulated by me -- and decide what I want to bring along because I won't have a ton of room to myself. Compared to the last time I had a major life-altering move, I think it's reasonable to want some control.

Sara and Thom will be getting a one-room apartment elsewhere. It's weird how couplehood has pushed them to the edge of our friendship circle. Danny and I hang out way more than I do with Sara, and Raine has her way of keeping guys at arm's length. And me, my boyfriend is over in the next state, for now at least, and the situation's not looking any better.

I'm not especially looking forward to leaving the family behind. I mean, I'll still come over all the time, but I know it's going to change. It's like going off to college all over again, except this time the family has been demonstrably more interested in keeping me around. With all due respect to my "real" family, the Cliffords, they were never as good to me as the Pearces have been. And that's really sad to me. How much I love these people.

Speaking of love... here's the real core of my stress. Last weekend, I was lying in bed with Buddy. I had my lips around his dick -- I'm trying to decide whether I like doing that or if I'm just giving him what I think he wants. And he's running his fingers through my hair and moaning with pleasure, and he says, "Mmm, yeah... I love that."

It made me pause. I guess on its own, it's a meaningless statement, but that word has been working its way out of his lips more and more often. I make a joke about Ewoks, and he says, "I love that you say stuff like that." He sees me in a low-cut black dress and says, "I love you in that." I get out of the shower and he says, "I love your hair when it's wet." It's starting to really get to me, like he's working he way up to saying the three little words. Every time it comes up, he seems to get closer. Later that night, he had his arms around me and we were falling asleep, and he whispers, "I love spending time with you."

I mean, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. We've been together a while now. We have a lot of fun together, he seems to get me. I just never considered the possibility that it was really love and not just... dating. Screwing around. God help me when he actually says it. I don't know how I feel. I never honestly expect to get that close to a human being, not like this.

So I was thinking about all this and stressing out and taking inventory of my stuff when I made a decision, a harmless little decision to cut my hair. Like, all of it. I mean, I didn't shave my head, but I'm definitely rocking the pixie look now.

I had only been to a hair salon a few times since being Tori. My hair has definitely suffered neglect. I just get really uncomfortable with all the ritual of the salon scene, versus the male ability to get in a chair and get out with shorter hair. What's more, even though the long hair has always been a hassle to me, I was so dead-set against altering anything I'd gotten along with being Tori that it had to stay even after I learned I'd be her for a good long while.

So I finally womanned-up and set foot in the salon with a photo of Audrey Hepburn -- as cliche as it is -- and the hairdresser just smiled and said "I'll take care of you, hun."

Like an hour later, my hair was nice and short. No more ponytails or blowing in the breeze, no more waiting hours for it to dry, no more long hairs down the drain or waking up with it all over my face.

The family was taken by surprise, it wasn't like "me," since "I'd" always held my hair with such importance. "It's just something new," I said. Mom thought it looked nice. Dad rolled his eyes. Mae said she was jealous, and boys were going to think I was smart now. Thanks, Mae.

Then I decided to brave snowpocalypse again to go to New York. As nervous as I was about Buddy being in love with me, I was especially interested in his reaction.

It was... not great. Really surprising, actually.

I'd give you the details, but the fight is technically still happening. He went out for a walk in the snow just to cool down. Considering the temperature, it ought to work. I'm thinking about staying with Ken and Jana tonight. Sigh.

I'll get back to you.

Todd: New Years Gig

2011-01-12T12:06:00.005-05:00

An old friend of ours who works in the kitchen of a dive club downtown heard that Bry and I had put together a new band and managed to get us a gig on New Years. The place was cramped and sketchy as anything, pretty much a basement, but a gig is a gig, free drinks are free drinks, and it's just generally nice to have something to do on New Years.

Shelby had been nervous playing in front of people for our first gig, but we've been working with her. She even attempted to bring one of her friends from school, a girl in her lit studies class, to the gig. This girl, apparently named Jewel, supposedly did show up but none of us ever saw her. For our part there were a lot of familiar faces around, who were happy to see us back in a band.

We played as part of a showcase, starting at around 10, with a minimal cut of the door and a small number of free drinks. We played about 45 minutes worth of the usual covers and three originals (Bry's been working on "Change You," a Nirvana-esque ode to the Inn that doubles as a metaphor for relationships... it's as good as anything he's ever written.) At Alia's urging, I did a bit more singing than I usually do including a deliberately bad singalong version of Oasis' "Wonderwall." Well, no matter what anyone else in the room says, I will say it was deliberate. But anyway, "Change You" and "Song for Crystal" two of our originals got a huge response, so that was encouraging.

After our set, we hung around a while, drinking and enjoying bands that were either:

a) Better than us
b) Better-rehearsed than us
c) Better friends with the management than us.

It was actually a really nice night, and we had a lot of fun. And then at midnight, I was kissing Alia, and out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Bryan and Shelby going at it. This was not an innocent "Hey we're friend's and it's New Years so why not" kiss. This was drunken sloppy "I've wanted this for a while and now is a good enough time" make out. It was pretty ostentatious.

Now, far be it from me to tell Bryan how to live his life, but I had to register my disapproval on a few grounds. First, Shelby just got out of a relationship with her last boyfriend, so it makes me uncomfortable to think Bry had something to do with that, or if he's just a rebound. Neither option is good, although if it's the latter it will just seem like the natural course of events. The former option bothers me because it doesn't reflect well on Bryan. Or Shelby.

Another reason is of course, band romances are a bad idea. It was one thing for a group like Fleetwood Mac to all be screwing each other, they were a huge band. We're just three people that play instruments, and if we're not careful, our rehearsals might quickly become a lame excuse for Bry and Shelby to mess around, and then the band just falls apart. And if they break up, there goes our little group.

So yeah, I take it a little personally. I didn't make much of it at the time, I thought fair enough if they just want to mess around, they should know what they're getting into. Then a few days later we were jamming and I asked if they wanted to get dinner, and they said they already had plans. Ay yi yi.

Bry and I had a conversation where I basically summarized the above points (otherwise I wouldn't have posted them somewhere he could find them) and he answered yeah, good points, but he's gonna just do what he feels is right.

Oy.

Well, that's on him. Plenty of drummers out there. Plenty of girls, too.

-Todd

Tori C: Confrontation

2011-01-06T23:08:00.005-05:00

I went to New York to see Buddy on New Years, but I wasn't feeling up to our usual brand of fun.

I haven't told him exactly why, but I was in a bad mood because of the night before. I had gone out drinking with Raine and we ran into of all people Cyndi... and Leo.

I got a chill up my spine. Cyndi had seemed much warmer in the past few weeks, chalked up to finding a new boyfriend... I just hadn't realized it was her old boyfriend, the guy I had until recently been banging without commitment.

The sight of the two of them together made me... irrationally angry. I was just coming off my period and a ton of holiday stress and the sudden thought that Leo was so okay breaking it off with me because he was back to her -- the woman he would complain about more often than talking about anything else, because he knew I agreed -- nauseated me. The idea that he may have been screwing her before we "ended" hurt me even more.

I didn't think they'd noticed us in the bar, so I was just about over it when I stepped out to the snowy parking lot to find her waiting there for me in the cold.

I guess she had found out, because she wasn't so sweet to me as she had been recently. Which was fine, since I knew she was a big faker anyway.

I tried to be the bigger person, brush her off and go home, but she kept throwing words. She said I was a slut for going after her man. Said I was a bitch because she used to consider em a friend, but she realized how two-faced I was (excuse me?!) But the straw that broke the camel's back was when she began slinging the d-word... a derogatory term for a homosexual female I won't repeat here.

That got my temper up like it's never been. I'm used to crying, used to being. sad and feeling like things are pointless, but I haven't been mad in years. I walked back over to her and shoved her, demanded she take it back. My voice must've gotten really shrill as I tried to put so anger into it. She just repeated her taunt. I shoved her again. She slapped me. Wrong move.

I had a big brother, and I used to get bullied at school. I know a thing or two about fighting, although I've never actually had to fight anyone (just kinda meekly defend myself or roughhouse.) I put her in a headlock. She began to claw and scrape at me and pull my hair, until I let go. She tripped me but I got up in time to scuffle some more with her, and at some point I may have punched her lightly in the boob. She responded by kicking me right in the crotch. And I might not have balls anywhere, but getting hit someplace personal hurts.

Now I was mad. And in pain. And emotionally off the rails. And I just socked her right in the face.

That sent her down for a second. I can tell you she'd never been hit in the face before, and since she models, it must've really shaken her. She just sat there, holding her jaw. Hell, the next day at work her lip was swollen. But there, she was sitting there looking at me, wondering how all this got so far out of hand. And when I unclenched my fist, I had to stop and realized I'd just punched a girl in the face. And whether I'm a girl or not, it felt wrong.

I left work early the next day and took a bus to New York. The whole ride, all I could think about was why things got so far out of hand. Was I mad at Leo for going back to her? Mad at myself for caring? Like I said, the very sight of them being back together unsettled me, but the moment that broke me was when she started laying into me and Raine, and the messed up thing was, a year earlier, I had kissed Raine on New Years and not thought twice about it (well, maybe I had thought twice) and now the insinuation that she and I were "together" was somehow an insult to me? What the fuck has become of me? I hated that I had that reaction.

It made me distant and cold to Buddy when I got to his place. We went to a little gathering with an acquaintance of his, and I just kinda faded into the background like old times. Back at the hotel, when he called me on it, instead of explaining myself to him, I just gave him something I figured I owed him. A little attention... if you know what I mean.

Maybe it was for him, maybe it was for me, maybe it was for show. Maybe it was for something to talk about on this blog.

Either way, it didn't feel great when I woke up with his sticky, bitter taste in my mouth (next time: toothpaste AND mouthwash) still emotionally sore (and a little physically sore) from the past few days.

When I got back to Philly, I handed in my two weeks notice. I had made up my mind, but now seemed like as good a time as any.

As to what I'm doing next... I have some thoughts, but I'll let you know when it happens.

Todd: A Quick MSN Convo

2011-01-03T00:21:00.002-05:00

Alia: Hey what are you doing?

Todd: Homework

Alia: Lies

Todd: You can't prove that

Alia: Semester hasn't begun yet

Todd: I have a big assignment due in Jan I wanted to get ahead on

Alia: Still he lies!

Todd: For all you know that's true! I'm really responsible now!!

Alia: You went back to Maine didn't you! What's your name, lady?!

Todd: ...

Todd: Too far.

Alia: You laughed.

Todd: Nuh uh.

Alia: Todd I'm sitting at your desk, watching you on your bed, you're not doing homework. And you laughed.

Todd: K fine. I'm booking a vacation.

Todd: NOT MAINE.

Alia: I was gonna say...

Todd: Just pricing New York trips.

Alia: Sounds good.

Todd: Also looking at porn.

Alia: Of course.

Alia: Touching yourself?

Todd: Of course.

Alia: Pics plz.

Todd: http://thechive.com/2010/06/21/so-i-guess-this-is-the-popular-new-pov-sweet-26-photos/?obref=obinsite

Alia: Mmm u so hot i got a boner wanna fuk??

(Three hours of sex ensues)

Max: Dawning of a New Day

2010-12-30T14:33:00.000-05:00

By the end of my first month as Max, I had a considerable chip on my shoulder. I was living with a lot of hostility, from Mrs. Kearn, who held a lot of Max's actions against me, and from Tanya, who saw me as the enemy in her quest to return to normalcy. Of course I wasn't actually antagonizing her, just trying to ease her into acceptance of her (yes, likely temporary) situation.

It was exhausting to try to take on all of their problems, avoid confrontation, prove that I wasn't the bad guy, and go on with my life, working five or six days a week on top of it. I was understandably frustrated.

Between us all was Melanie, the former man in Tanya's life, who had wound up as Tanya's sister. She stayed quiet ever since the change and I was worried she'd taken it badly, and that nobody was looking out for this possible mental trauma case. She seemed to fade into the background while Tanya did all the thinking for both of them, despite Tanya's insistence it had been Melanie's idea to come to New Brunswick.

I learned a fair bit more about this fellow in a young girl's body one morning in early September when I passed by her bedroom. She was still in her PJ's, sitting on her bed cross-legged with her eyes closed.

Curious, I poked my head in. "What's up? Am I interrupting?"

"Oh. Max. No, no, I'm just... meditating. It's a stress-management technique I learned while I was an air-traffic controller." She laughed slightly, "It really helps."

"I'll bet. How are you doing with all this?"

"You mean being a girl? Being far from home, stuck in this house, with my girlfriend transformed into an unrecognizable... well, bitch? As well as can be expected, I suppose."

"Not well?"

"Not perfect, but what choice have I got?"

"Melanie..." I said, still under the impression she needed me help, "Don't be afraid to let it out. If it's all too much, it's not going to do any good to bottle it up. If you need somebody to help you, I'm here. Don't avoid talking to me just because your gir-- sis-- Tanya doesn't like me."

"I appreciate the offer, but I'm more worried about her."

And I realized it was true. From what Melanie told me, Tanya was not typically a panicky or angry person, but the change had brought out her more erratic side. By now she had gone from trying to control the situation to resentfully going along with it. Neither of them was "in control" now. According to Melanie, Tanya had still not yet come to terms with that.

I told her Tanya had told me it was Melanie's idea to come to New Brunswick, even though they had apparently gotten permission from the new-them to stay in Washington.

She straightened her legs out over the edge of the bed and ran her fingers through her hair, sighing with resignation. "If you'd seen our place in Tacoma, you'd know. It was pretty small, a one-bedroom apartment. Where were the two of us supposed to sleep? What were we supposed to do with our time, enroll in school? Move around the block and get shit jobs to pay the rent? Take our older selves as our caregivers, watch them live our lives from a distance? Supervise them? That wasn't going to work, and she was in denial for thinking so. She thinks I just wanted to get away, but for crap's sake, you'd be crazy not to. You get it, don't you? You said this is where we belong right now, and you're completely right. It wuold be stupid to pretend not to be these girls. Right? Right?"

She was right, but it felt harsh to hear it laid out like that. I nodded along anyway. "Yes, of course."

She lay back on the bed and motioned for me to do the same. "I like looking at the ceiling," she said, "All these posters on the wall, Melanie's possessions, Melanie's furniture, Melanie's clothes son the floor... but there's nothing on the ceiling, so when I look up, I can forget my hair, forget my clothes, forget my boobs and just... be nobody. So lie back for a minute, will you?"

I did. We were shoulder to shoulder. We stayed quiet, all we could hear was each other's breath whistling through our noses, all we could see was the white plaster on the ceiling.

Suddenly, I couldn't resist the urge to look over at her. She looked so at peace. She looked back over at me and smiled. "It's nice, isn't it?"

I felt my heart get heavy, and a warm, stuff jolt from inside me down to me... crotch.

I sat up quickly and stammered, "I gotta, uh, get to work."

Oh, no. I hoped to God she hadn't realized what had gone through my mind.

Tori C: Christmas toys and new resolutions

2010-12-26T16:11:00.004-05:00

Instead of going ahead and just summarizing my holidays, I'll look at a comment that was left on my last post:

It doesn't seem like you're "all woman." It seems like your a little girl playing with a new toy.

My first reaction to this was, "Uh... what?" But the more I thought about it, the more I saw the reality. It's kinda true. And I don't think there's anything wrong with it.

I mean, all this here, once I've gotten past the angst and anger and frustration of my situation, it should be enjoyable. I mean, if I don't see myself going back to male, (or even if I do) I should at least be happy, and being happy shouldn't mean avoiding something I want just because it's something I didn't used to want. So while you see me as a little girl, all excited for a little playtime, I still see myself as a mature, rational adult, reaping the benefits of her situation.

But the "little girl" thing hit home, because of my situation I've avoided certain life decisions that would maybe put me in control of this life, which is the goal for 2011.

Stuff has been mounting... my discomfort with attempt to have sex under this roof, my increasing dissatisfaction with my menial, trivial job. So I have two objectives for the year. One is to get a new job, hopefully one closer to the computer work I was doing before I was girlified. The other is to move out. Frankly, I can see myself doing both of these in the month of January.

I've already talked to Raine about moving in with her. Sara and Thom are getting a place together, so that leaves us as natural roommate potentials. We're looking at places today. If this happens, I might be able to move forward with Buddy, provided he sticks around the area. And if not... well, let's not worry about it yet.

Oh, and then there was this comment:

Speaking of, are things still pretty straightforward for you in the bedroom, or have you been able to try new positions or new activities?

Which made me blush... I don't know what you're looking for, uh, we're not into anything that exciting. We still just doing it like regular people, although he ate me out for the first time last weekend, with the expectation I'd return the favour sooner or later.

Um.... we'll see. It was okay, though. I felt guilty for just taking my own half and not returning, though, and as much as I've grown accustomed to having someone be with me, it still felt odd to have him focusing his energy just on that. That's why I just like straight-up regular intercourse. I know he's happy to do that.

The last few weeks haven't been all that eventful beyond that. Stressful, perhaps, trying to make a plan for after this job's end, as well as getting all the usual holiday madness. We went back over to the Uncle and Aunts, back to the awkward family gathering. I'm trying to branch out a bit with the family, so I spent some time speaking to Grandma Pearce, and for my trouble I had my fashion sense criticized. That shut me up.

Most of my gifts were unspectacular... gift cards and some more personal stuff... but for whatever reason, Mae asked for some "fun, sexy underwear." It was a bit off-putting and I wanted to inquire. I'm guessing there's a new guy in her life, but she hasn't discussed this with me. Maybe it's not any of my business, but I'd like to know if she's dating some kind of hoodlum. Still, I found it amusing that she felt she could come to me with this request, and that I'd just fill it (and I did!) but it was definitely one of those weird moments of recognition, when I was standing in the lingerie store, eyeballing bras and panties, and trying to estimate my sister's size (I did cheat and look, but still, I had to imagine getting her something she'd like and look good in and... this is why, even as a girl, I don't give clothes as gifts.)

The holiday flew by, I still have yet to confirm that I will be leaving my job... and I'm not sure how much longer Buddy will be in New York after the new year, so I've got a lot on my mind!

Max: Missing days

2010-12-12T22:35:00.006-05:00

I haven't had a parental figure in my life since I was a 14-year-old girl. After the first change, I was pretty well cut off from my first family, and I never really got close to Sam's. So sitting down to dinner with Mrs. Kearn was pretty brutal.

I had no idea how to read her. She was quiet, and I could tell she did not care for the fact that I had come back on my own without her daughters without any concrete explanation as to where they were and why. But I couldn't tell what she really thought about the situation, about Max, and what she wanted to do about it. She was still letting me live in her house, apparently rent-free. That alone was enough to make me want to make any concession she had in mind.

I had faith that Tanya and Melanie would arrive sooner than later. I just had to endure the awkward silence until then. I didn't expect either of them to be better-equipped than I was to handle their new mom, but them being there would make our adjustment easier anyway.

In the meantime, I was sneaking out of the house to go to Max's job. He's a dishwasher, so I wasn't exactly in over my head, and I was able to smooth over things with the kitchen manager so I was able to keep the gig, not that it was all that precious to me. I just needed something to do while I waited and figured out what, if anything, my next move was going to be.

They did show up about a week and a half after I did. Jet-lagged, or maybe body-lagged, they stumbled through the doors looking exhausted, dragging a their luggage with them.

Mrs. Kearn rushed to greet them while I stood coldly in the kitchen doorway, saying "I knew you'd show up" with my eyes. They pushed past me to find their new rooms. I didn't go to confer with them immediately, instead I retired to the basement, figuring Mrs. Kearn would want a night with her daughters to get their story on why they'd left me in Maine.

Apparently they weren't too forthcoming. I was making my bed the next morning, the girls still asleep, when Mrs. K came by to interrogate me again.

"They won't tell me why they left off from you," she said.

"Well," I sighed, "If they ever do, can you let me know? Because I'd like to."

"You're saying two teenage girls just went out on their own in a strange country and you couldn't do anything to stop them?"

"Pretty much."

"I don't believe me."

"Yeah, I don't believe it either, but that's what happened."

"I can't even believe I let you go on that trip!" She spent another half hour laying into me, but I faded out of focus and just let her go, not really trying to stand up for myself, until she said, "I swear, if I find out you laid a hand on those girls--"

"What?!" I stopped her immediately, "Lady, I don't know what kind of guy you think I--" I stopped myself. I really had no proof even to myself that the old Max wouldn't have hit a girlfriend, but knowing that wasn't the specific case here kept me from being able to take that one on the chin. "It's just... no, okay? I didn't. You can ask them."

She didn't respond, but just left the room the conversation unresolved.

That day, when Mrs. Kearn was out, I asked Tanya what had happened out west to change her mind.

"What does it matter?" she snapped, "We're here anyway, isn't this what you wanted?"

"It's not what I want, it's what has to happen," I explained, "If you think you can make a go of it out in Washington, be my guest, but I have my doubts they'll let your boyfriend resume his duties--"

"You don't say a word about my boyfriend, you don't even talk to him!" she shrieked.

"Woah, calm down, okay? I just want you to know why you're here."

"Uh huh. Why am I here?"

"Because this is what yuor life has become. For better or worse, your life isn't that anymore. Not for now. It belongs to someone else. You can get it back... if you're lucky. But not for a long while. So I'm sorry we got off on the wrong foot."

She muttered, "Yeah," agreeing sarcastically.

It was a tense few days after that. I couldn't speak to anyone in the house. The official story was that "Tanya and Max" had broken up, but Mrs. Kearn was at least willing to let me keep sleeping in the basement, albeit with extreme reluctance. Tanya and Melanie weren't all that interested in sharing the details of the trip with their new mother, who still believed I had traumatized them somehow. Melanie still seemed shellshocked and led around by Tanya, who was on bad terms with everyone else.

It was a week or two later that I was walking by Tanya's room and I heard sobbing. I knocked softly. No answer. I opened the door a crack.

Tanya was lying on the bed with her face buried in a pillow, sobbing her eyes out. She looked up at me.

"WHAT."

"Nothing! I just wanted to see if you were okay."

"Do I look okay?!"

"Not really."

"God, don't you ever say the right thing?"

"Apparently not. What's the matter?"

"What's the matter? Are you shitting me? All of this! God, every day that I wake up and I'm still here is just--"

Yeah, she was still taking it badly. I went to sit next to her, to try to break the tension.

She slid just a bit away to make room. She sat up on the edge and rested her elbows on her knees. She wiped some tears and snot from her face with a pink kleenex.

She sniffed, "You must think I'm an overemotional bitch."

"No..." I lied.

"Let me tell you what happened. We got to Washington, we got back to our apartment, and then a week later, we got a call from the new us." I had actually never received a call from the new person in my old body, at least not at that point.

She went on, "They were going to let us stay, Max. They were going to let us stay in our own home and try ti rebuild our own lives, and then for whatever reason [Melanie] changed his mind... and made me come here. I don't understand why."

"Did you ask her?"

"Yeah, but she-- he-- wasn't making any sense. Gave me some of that stuff you were talking about where we belong. I don't know. I was willing to go along with it, but... I can't take this, Max. It's not right."

I rubbed her back and she said, "I guess I've been unfair. None of this is your fault. You're not a bad guy."

"Thanks."

"I just... I don't want to be here."

Nobody ever does.

But she did get a bit better after that. More soon as I can manage.

Tori C: Bedpost Notches

2010-12-10T00:34:00.001-05:00

There were a few occasions when I did sleep with Leo -- I mean spend the whole night. They were rare and I always felt like he didn't want me there, like he didn't want someone in his bed with him, which is why I didn't do it often. He never seemed comfortable, like he was just one twitch away from waking up, and he tossed and turned a lot, keeping me up. As a result, those few times we did sleep together didn't feel very... romantic.

The first time I slept with Buddy, it was different. He slept naturally, like we belonged in the bed together. I think when we woke up, we sensed the difference.

We went out to breakfast and he seemed utterly elated by the step forward we'd taken. "Can you believe how much time we wasted?" he said, "All this time we could have... we could have been together! Instead we just wasted more time being lonely and miserable. we should've just gotten over ourselves sooner." I still haven't told him about Leo. I don't sense that he needs to know. He might react badly, whereas if I don't tell him, it's just, well, another pointless thing I don't tell him about myself.

Cutting it off with Leo was one of the loose ends I needed to tie up last month after Buddy and I became more or less official. I had been putting him off for weeks hoping he's get the message, but every few days, I'd get a text, "Hey, you busy?"

Finally, the Thursday after Buddy and I hooked up in New York, he texted me again and I responded, "I think we're done."

The answer back? A few minutes later, a simple "Yeah, guess so. K."

That "K" really bothered me. What was it doing there? Shouldn't he be upset about this? Aren't I hot? Aren't I a decent enough partner? If he was just looking for something casual, was I not as casual as it gets? Maybe too casual since I barely was speaking to him by the end! Ugh, that's what's so frustrating. What a waste of time. Maybe I was telling myself I had to keep going with it because it would hurt both of us to break it off, but apparently not. I'm not hurt at all, but... I was annoyed as hell about it.

But of course I had something to take my mind off it, my next weekend excursion to NYC. Funds are tight, but I'm living a cheap lifestyle so I can afford frequent trips. There was just one thing I hadn't counted on... my parents.

As a 24-year-old girl, they're pretty understanding of my boundaries, and haven't really said anything about my frequent late night trips out to see Leo or to go drinking with Sara and Raine. They're more concerned with Mae, and only police my behavior so far as they want to make sure I don't give Mae the idea it's okay to stay out late, do drugs and have a ton of random sex.

So when they found out I was heading out to New York on the weekends to see my new boyfriend -- and boy does it still sound weird to write that -- their first request was that they meet him.

That wasn't so easily done. His current employer keeps him no retainer so he can't go jaunting out of the city on a whim. He had time off for Thanksgiving, but since we go see family, it'd be such a busy day that it wouldn't be easy to arrange some kind of dinner with the family that involved him. Dad suggested we invite him over for Thanksgiving Dinner at his brother's place, but it was just too damn much pressure for a relationship that's not a month old yet. Besides, I was sure he had plans of his own.

Nope, as it turned out... he has his sister in Philly, which is how he ended up there, but most of his family lives out west anyway, but he agreed to go along with my explanation. In the end we compromised and he agreed to come over to meet the family after dinner.

So after I got to New York, and right as I'm getting into Buddy's hotel room, I feel my purse buzz. I didn't want to answer it, but he insisted I did. I had a sinking feeling in my gut that it was Leo asking me to take him back.

It wasn't. It was Ken, saying "YO VIC! Heard you're in NYC. Why no call?"

Agh! My big brother, the only family member it feels like I can relate to. I hadn't even thought about the fact that he lives in the city with his wife. That wasn't exactly why I'd come all this way. so I discreetly responded, "Getting laid." That's the kind of relationship I have with him.

A moment later, the purse buzzed again. "K, when you're done, let's all go for coffee. Not taking no for an answer."

Buddy laughed, "Your brother's a special guy."

I blushed, "It's... not easy getting away from him. And I do owe him, since I tend to disappear from his life. Would you mind?"

"Nah, it'll be a nice preview for when I finally do meet your family."

So we ended up getting food and drinks with Jana and Ken. Jana was quiet as a mouse, looking like she'd been forcibly removed from her apartment, while Ken interrogated Buddy about how we'd met and how long we'd been together. Buddy looked a bit uncomfortable, but he and Ken eventually found some common ground.

We said goodbye around 11 and headed back to the hotel. After an hour or so of messing around, we were lying there relaxing and he noted, "Your brother calls you Vic."

"Uh, yeah. It's short for Victoria."

"Is that what you like to be called? I've been calling you Tori this whole time..."

"Dude," I assured him, "Don't worry about it. To my family, I'm Vic, but to friends I'm Tori." I don't know why this is, but I didn't say so. "It's just a name."

"Heh, I guess you're right. As long as your name's not really John or something, I think we're good."

Heh, yeah... about that...

Thanksgiving was the usual awkwardness of affair. While Jana joined my mom and aunts in the domestic circle, I stayed with "the kids." There are a couple younguns who like video games, and one who's hit puberty since last year and didn't want anything to do with us. Mae observed, "I remember when that was me."

"That's still you."

"Yeah, but now I at least pretend instead of hiding."

Bored, I picked up a Wii controller to join the game of New Super Mario Bros. Before I knew it, Ken had joined in as one of the Toads. I made some stupid out-of-character comment about how this brought me back to my childhood, and he replied by asking "Since when did you ever play Nintendo?"

I almost had to smash the controller into the TV. It seems stupid, but months of comfort have done a lot to make me forget I ever WASN'T Tori, so when I'm reminded of the difference between Cliff and Tori, it can be very, very frustrating. Add to this the fact that I still haven't gotten the hang of my extended family and the awkwardness expands tenfold.

After dinner, Ken asked me what was up. Suddenly I was playing video games and dating, in his words, "Kind of a geek." I asked what was wrong with any of that, and he said nothing, it was just unusual.

"I'm making changes, Ken," I said, pretending for once that any of this was my choice. "I'm trying to be different from what I was."

"Well don't change too much," he said with a hopeful smile, trying to indicate he didn't mean to accuse me of anything. "We like you plenty for who you are."

I smiled back, "It's too late, Ken. I'm already different. But it's okay. You like me no matter what, don't you?"

"Of course. And as long as you like this new guy... I'm glad you're with him."

Buddy did stop by later that night, but as predicted, the parents were tired and went off to bed after about a half hour of chitchat. That left the two of us alone, for all intents and purposes. Buddy was curious to see my room, and I was... reluctant to let him. But I couldn't say no.

So I brought him up to my supremely-unsexy room. After all this time it's still largely-unpacked boxes, a few personal items, and some piles of clothes here and there.

"This," he chuckled, "Is not a girl's room." There he goes again.

"Then what are all these bras doing around?"

"You're a ladies' man. You collect them," he said.

"Oh yeah," I smiled, playing along, trying to turn it into sexy-talk, "You're just another notch in my bedpost aren't you?" I pulled him close and stuck my hand down his pants. Rock hard. For all his "guy"-talk, he knows I'm all woman. We started to mess around.

He pushed me back on my bed and I undressed as we made out. We did it on my very cushy but very small bed, and spent the night cuddled closer than before. The heat's not great in my room, so I had to re-dress before bed.

It was considerably more awkward than doing it in his hotel room. Especially since he had to get out the next morning without dad seeing him. He didn't succeed but let the guy go without commentary.

Me, however... I got a box of condoms thrown at me. Thanks, pop, for being so supportive.

Alia: Wish You Were Here

2010-12-06T19:10:00.005-05:00

This is going to be a quick one, as there's not a ton going up here in Toronto. Todd and I have been going through a hellish November for school, while he juggles his part-time work at the record store, and Brian has been working and hectoring Todd into this whole band thing.

Believe me, it has not been the easiest thing in the world for me and Todd to feel like a couple again. We barely manage to spend time together, and I feel so removed from the days when I was happy being someone's girlfriend. My time as Rob was refreshing... it'd been a long time since I'd dated Todd but for the first time I wasn't moping around heartbroken and single. Happy being single. Happy with myself. As a guy in Philadelphia. Never thought I'd say that.

Maybe I'm over-romanticizing it, because it definitely wasn't all sunshine and rainbows, but that level of freedom and independence, I'd never had. I started being with Todd right when I left home, and he was my first love so I spent a lot of time -- probably too much to accurately call myself a feminist -- being sad it was over. Follow that with guilty rebound sex and isolation, and Rob Garcia: Philadelphian High School English teacher sounds like a decent trade.

So the whole dynamic has been different between me and Todd and for a long while I was wondering whether it was even meant to be anymore. I saw the way he was with Shelby, even though she's got a boyfriend, and wondered if he'd be happier with her. Or if I should find Crystal and give her my body back and just leave this place forever (I know a lot of you would love that!) But here's what happened: that stupid ass band.

It doesn't even have a name, they've just been calling it "The Todd and Bryan Epic Band." Funny in a kind of "we're so lame it's cool" way.

Then they coaxed Shelby into playing drums and it became... a thing. And that pissed me off. Whereas it was just them, whenever they got together, with their guitars, it was suddenly a requirement that they spend X number of hours each week at Shelby's place working on their material, because after all she's got the drums and it wouldn't do to transport them anywhere, let alone to their little apartment.

I spent a lot of November ready to say "screw it" to the whole relationship, these friendships I've had for so many years, when The Todd and Bryan Epic Band Featuring Shelby booked a gig in Mississauga (for the curious, that's a town that borders Toronto to the East and is largely suburban with a slight cultural center.) Irritated that it should be so convenient to go all the way down there, I debated even bothering. I hadn't spoken to Todd about my doubts about us but I think he was picking up on them. I went anyway, to show my support.

They went through a number of familiar covers. They're really impressive musicians, Bryan even did a Marty McFly version of Johnny B. Goode, complete with windmills and Jimi Hendrix affecations (although the imitation definitely isn't perfect.) The originals were uneven... the ballad Bryan had written (for Crystal, I think) seemed a bit cheesy, and the uptempo number was a bit clunky. I'm just being honest here.

THen for their finale, Todd stepped up to the microphone. He doesn't sing often, although he's better at it than he gives himself credit for. He looked out into the audience. I was sitting far enough back that he probably couldn't see me, but he dedicated it by saying "This last one goes out to the pretty girl in the back, with her hair in a ponytail." Me (he's often called me "the girl in the back" because of how shy I was when we met.)

Todd exchanged his bass for an acoustic guitar and began to strum. It was Pink Floyd's "Wish You Were Here," a song he'd played for me on one of our first dates and had a special resonance now that we had been apart. Instead of fading out like the recording, it climaxed in a louder, louder, I'll say it -- epic riff to climax the show. The following act actually made a snarky remark that they couldn't follow that and were going home (they actually played a respectable set.)

And me... well I'm not made of ice. In that 5 minutes I felt the feeling welling up in me that I haven't had in a long while. That passion, that desire... Goddamnit if I'm not a sucker for a boy with a guitar. More than anything, it made me feel for the first time in years that I was being thought of, that I was wanted, that I was important to somebody.

Our relationship isn't fixed overnight, but that one song went a long way toward that goal, based on what happened between us later that night.

Ta
-Alia