Arthur/Penny/Millie: ... No More Teacher's Dirty Looks!

Look, it was either that or "school's... out... forever!"

I started typing this in my home office at a reasonable 10:30AM and left the window open while I do other things all day.  It's just me in the apartment, because Ray is in the office and Harmon is at the school, grading the last finals and essays and attending some year-end meetings that have to be done in person.  Then, just like for the past week, he'll be driving up to the Trading Post Inn, except that he won't be driving back tomorrow morning, but just hanging around until he's no longer Penelope Lincoln Lee and I've got the chance to be myself again. 

There was a time I would have envied the year he's got in front of him; the luggage and letter that was there when he arrived is a stud who looks like he's spent a good chunk of his 18 years in the gym, accepted to a good college, nobody in particular to fool.  Probably got a huge dick, because some folks just have good luck fall into their laps. 

Which admittedly includes me; the last few years have been a bit tougher than expected, with Ray starting his own firm and having to get a full-time job because "midlist author" isn't quite the stable income it used to be, especially when you've got a kid with often-expensive hobbies.  Those are the most first-world of first-world problems, really (note to self: have not heard kids say "first-world problems" in the time I've been embedded among them).  I've been Penny long enough to have developed a certain world-view that it's maybe useful to have upended.

Not that I'm ever going to admit that the months of worry are a fair tradeoff for understanding Millie better.  Yes, one of the lasting lessons I've learned as a parent is that worry is what you spend to have a child you can be proud of; I've worried every time Millie hurt herself playing sports or spent the night at a friend's place or went to camp, and, boy, that time I watched her ride a bike out of my sight gave her her first T pass at 11 were crazy, but I do think she'll be a braver, more independent woman for it, and she got through an Inn experience that I suspect might have broken me had I visited the Inn at 13 and wound up a grown woman apart from my parents, mixed bag as they were - I might have been so lost that I might not have been able to conceive going back and being myself again, but Millie is still herself underneath the silly facial hair, and I'm grateful.

And, for all that this started with me expressing private frustration with relating to her because her genes weren't the ones that made me who I was, regardless of what I became later, I know for a fact that she is my daughter in all the ways that matter.  My instincts steered me well as her, and nobody ever told me I was acting weird.  Plus, she apparently took all the writing classes she could fit into Griff's schedule at school, not quite enough that he's going to come back to find he's minoring in journalism, but it shows that a lot of what drives both me and Ray is in there - just like the way she ran off to find the Inn, she wants to know things and communicate it and make them right, which is a big part of what drove me into writing and him into law.

Maybe this time will fade for her, or maybe she'll have a leg up on dealing with men and other adults as she grows older.  I kind of hope it's the first, but no kid comes out of something life-changing, literally or figuratively, unchanged.  She looks like she's doing well, but she deserves to be a kid and a teenager.

Speaking of which, today happens to be her/mine/our 14th birthday.  We're going to eat some garbage and watch the new Supergirl movie tonight, and then spend the weekend with her humiliating me at tennis and whatever other sports we can get to while she's got a 21-year-old male physique.  With any luck, we'll get a message from Harmon tomorrow about the Inn doing its thing, and we can look forward to changing back and being able to talk about everything.

-Arthur/Penny/Millie

Arthur/Penny/Millie: When Will This School Year End?

I try not to fall into the trap of thinking my life experience is more universal than it actually is - the Inn will disabuse you of that notion very quickly - but I feel like I should be out of school by now.  When I was growing up, the school year basically ran the day after Labor Day to a couple weeks into summer, every year, everywhere.  I'd heard that maybe it was different in the extremes - like, Minnesota would have a long winter break and start a little earlier/end a little later - but not too much so.  When you watched TV, it was basically like that on every show with kids and school.

And yet, for my first year back in public school in 25 years or so, it started around then but I'm there until the 25th of June, and that's without much in the way of snow days.  They don't have many of those any more, between climate change and all the tele-learning infrastructure that was built during the pandemic, and it's driving me nuts.

And it's not like this everywhere - on some places, it's weirder!  I'm on a group chat with other authors, and one of them who lives in Texas says her kids' school year ended the week before Memorial Day, so they had to take their summer vacation the week off the holiday because the kids' summer activities start on June 1st, when I've still got three weeks to go. 

Would I have been this annoyed by it if I were in my natural role of teacher/parent?  Probably not, I admit.  It's normal for Millie, as much as anything is (she's had two out of eight years disrupted by a pandemic, so what's normal?), and a couple years ago, I was getting used to having a scheduled job rather than being freelance, so it didn't seem too long.  I did kind of notice kids staring out the window a bit more on nice days as a teacher, and I'm sure doing it right now.  Granted, I've been doing it all year, but I'm maybe even more fidgety now.  Kid attention span when you know some of your teachers are playing out the string is a heck of a thing. 

On top of that, the delay is driving the whole group of us nuts.  Millie has been at a complete loose ends ever since Griff's academic year ended, because there really isn't anything to fill her time with, and it's stayed to really get awkward with the "girlfriend".  My daughter is only just about to turn 14, and she's had crushes, but by and large attraction is new to her, and six months or so is about when someone who has been to the Inn starts to really acknowledge that the gender identity, sexual orientation, and hormones they've inherited are something to be accepted rather than fought.  So she's got the urges of a 20-year-old man who spends a lot of time with someone with the appearance of that boy's girlfriend who has spent most of the past year looking out for him, and, yes, I do freak out every time I see Emilia and Rusty talk about how quickly Katey started hooking up with that grown man at right about this point!

So we've been doing what we can to keep her busy.  Ande apologizes for not helping out more now that he knows, but we don't blame him for wanting to spend as much time with his girlfriend as possible before she's off on her internship.  I try to get her over at the house as much as possible to read and study with me so she won't be very far behind when she starts school again in the fall, and I like to think it's centering for her, seeing that her life is being tended to and that I'm there to help.  Harmon creeps her out, though, so she's been spending a few nights out with Ray. 

It's annoying that we're dealing with Harmon this long, which is another artifact of the long school year.  Since he doesn't plan on becoming Alicia again, we decided to basically run a month behind with a broken "thread", which means that Millie's current "roommate" is heading to the Inn tomorrow, as is Harmon, even though they were a month apart last summer.  Harmon is going to be doing a daily round trip like Toby and Lambert did, although thankfully without flying to Miami and back, heading north at around 4pm or 5pm, then setting a 4am alarm so she can be at school the next day.  By the time it's my turn to head up, school will be out, so we won't have to do around much. 

Suffice it to say, we are all really, really ready to get things back to normal! 

- Arthur/Penny/Millie

Arthur/Penny/Millie: So Happy and Furious

I was going to just use this post to talk about some book stuff, which I've kind of neglected over the past year because talking about writing and publishing is boring for other people.  Basically, I write two books a year:  There are the Lynn Ashford mysteries about a lady sportscaster who has a bad habit of running into murders when she blows into town for the Olympics, the Women's World Cup, the NBA Finals, whatever, which I've been writing for almost as long as I've been Penny, and I've usually got some other, more fantastic series going on, generally pitched toward young adults and often involving identity and transformation to some extent, sometimes under a pseudonym (or a different one, considering what you think of "Penny Lincoln").  You may remember Annette liking the Pygmalion series; after winding that down I did something more science-fictional whose second of three volumes is due out in August, and I've been trying to work on a comedic high fantasy since then.  It kind of started from a joke about how dragons don't hoard gold so much as they shit it out because they expand their cavern lairs by eating rocks that pass through their alchemical digestive systems, with the hero a princess who got swallowed whole and winds up a muscular Adonis after traversing the monster's intestines.  As you might imagine, it's been kind of tough writing that one in my current situation, although I've had a ton of ideas for age-regression stories!

Anyway, this year's Lynn Ashford is World Cup of Murder, and while I think it's pretty good, the lead time on publishing novels is enough that I had to deliver the final draft for this story meant to tie into the 2026 World Cup being held in North America in late 2024, when we were pretty certain that Kamala Harris would be president, and everything even vaguely related to the border and boycotts and foreign relations has made my book with its international cast of characters look more and more like it takes place in some far more pleasant fantasy universe.  It's not the first time this has happened, even recently - the publisher was insistent I not mention that Covid quarantines happened in my last one - but it means that the release and tie-ins got a little more low-key.  Truth be told, that's been the case generally over the last few years - making less from writing is why I took the job as an English teacher in my daughter's middle school, and that makes it a bit harder to do publicity.  It's kind of a self-reinforcing loop, but what can you do?

What that all means is that the release has been relatively quiet and the "book tour" has mostly been New England bookstores during April vacation, when schools of the region, or at least Massachusetts, take a week off around Patriot's Day.  Without a lot of sports practice taking up my time that week, I'd been "assisting" Harmon on these stops.  Part of it's the usual things that adults have their kids do to keep them busy at events like these - fetching water, having a fresh pen ready, getting books open to the title page and passing them over - but also interrupting in my best annoyed teenager when someone asks a question Harmon can't answer.  Everyone laughs and finds the kid who remembers stuff better than her mom adorable as opposed to Harmon alienating fans by not having read my entire output.

Anyway, we were doing an event in Harvard Square when a couple of college students made it through the line to the card table, and I'm kind of half-zoned out making a little pile of hardcovers ready to be signed when I hear Harmon snort-laugh at something, which isn't necessarily bad reader interaction, before she shakes my shoulder.  "Oh, Millicent, you've got to hear this - this guy says he saw new layers to my work after staying at a hotel in Maine!"  I look up and see this boy of about twenty with an extraordinarily silly mustache sweating bullets mouthing something like "you call her Millicent?", his girlfriend standing behind him with her arms crossed, kind of keeping him from fleeing.  My eyes go wide in realization and I shift into Mom Voice for the first time in months.  "Oh, we've got to talk, young... man!"  I slam the book he was getting autographed and drag it to the side, walking to the door, knowing that they're following me without seeing, vaguely hearing the rest of the line murmur in confusion.  I pull the phone out of my back pocket and dial Ray's number on my way out the door, saying a curt "Millie's at the signing, get down here now!" when it goes to voice mail.

When we get to the sidewalk, I turn around and take them in.  They both look even more nervous, and the knot in my gut tightens a bit as I see that the young woman is wearing a Northeastern University sweatshirt.  At that second, they're looking over their shoulders at Harmon chuckling at the commotion in a way that's not very maternal before turning back to me.  "Wait, are you--  Mom?"

I look up at him (her) in frustration.  "Of course I'm your mother!  What, did you think I was going to let just anyone step into your life and decide that they just might want to keep it for their own because you're so pretty and talented and have such a bright future?  That your father and I would just trust some stranger with your well-being?"

I hadn't really meant to attack the other person, but she turned a deep crimson.  "I'm sorry, I was under the impression that she had been communicating with you--"

I pointed vaguely down the street.  "I will deal with you later!  Right now I have things to discuss with my daughter!"  The other person nodded and backed away, and I crossed my arms to await an explanation.

Millie was crying, and I felt bad about that - neither Ray nor I are big yellers and she probably hadn't been hit with this for the past year.  "I don't know what I was thinking!  I just heard you say you might not really be my mom and that it had something to do with that Inn so I figured I had to get to the bottom of it even though I didn't know what I was going to find there!  And then it did this to me and I was still so mad that you'd kept something so important secret..."  I kept staring.  "Okay, I should have told you, but then it felt so good to be grown up and have people trust me..."  She sniffled.  "And then, every time I came to look at how the new me was doing, maybe offer some help, it freaked me out that she... you...  that nobody would be able to tell that I was gone or different!  You didn't seem to need me so I just threw myself into being Griff--"

Despite myself, I snickered.  "Griff?"

"Yeah, Angelo Griffin; everybody calls him Griff, which I guess is better than 'Angelo'.  He found a flyer for the place in his roommate's mail--"

Something clicked.  "Ande.  You're roomates with Ande."

Her eyes went wide.  "You know Ande?"

"Yeah, he comes to this little thing Auntie Ashlyn does at the Changeling was a month for Inn people.  He used to be his twin sister."

"That maybe explains something--  Wait, does that mean Auntie Ashlyn...?

"Used to be a guy too, yes."

"Is anyone we know who they're supposed to be?"

I gave it some thought.  "I think that's it.  Although, don't ever imply to Auntie Ashlyn that she's not who she's supposed to be!"  And though I thought it went without saying.  "And don't ever even think that I'm not supposed to be your mother!"

I guess she really needed to hear that because she grabbed me for a bear hug, which was kind of awkward because this Griff guy is taller than I am as Millie, but then, the other moms who aren't freakishly tall women say that's just part of having your kids grow up.  We got a lot of concerned looks from people on the sidewalk, but fortunately that was when Ray showed up, panting a bit as he ran from wherever he'd parked the car.  Millie still had her face buried in my hair when he said "is this...?" and I nodded, so he grabbed us both. 

Millie turned to look at him.  "Are you mad?"

"So mad.  But more relieved.  We love that you're stubborn and want to handle things yourself, but you have to ask for help with something this big!"

She nodded and said she had help, which is when we finally relented and waved "Griff's girlfriend" over.  She seems nice, and has done what she could to keep Millie's head above water.

We considered going to grab something to eat and maybe invite Harmon along, but Millie decided she didn't want to see her looking like me more, that it's different seeing your own face or hearing your own voice, because she doesn't really spend that much time looking in the mirror, and I get it.  We've at least been able to text and email recently, so that all the arrangements for turning back could be made.

It's been a tremendous load off our shoulders for the past week, though!

-Penny/Millie

Arthur/Millie/Penny: Jumpy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- Arthur/Penny/Millie

Arthur/Penny/Millie: I Need Another Vacation

Even with all the snow, I'm not going to get it any more than I got to enjoy this last week, which was packed because Millie is good at sports, and when kids are good at sports they wind up expected to fill their school vacations with tournaments and events, even when you'd think these girls would really rather be home watching the Olympics and getting inspired!

I wouldn't mind so much if it was just tennis. I like that a lot, although I'm probably hurting Millie's chances of being noticed by the scouts looking for the next girl who could be a teenage champion, which seemed a whole lot cuter and more exciting when you're just watching the Williams sisters crush seasoned vets on TV and marveling at kids being prodigies than when you're simultaneously that kid having practice eat your weekends and her mother worried about if this is hurting her in school or making her miss out on being a child.  Oh, and that a bunch of adults are looking at a kid and seeing her as just one of of many their hedging their bets on, abandoning the ones they can't exploit.  Millie and the other girls mostly seem to enjoy the attention and the praise from knowledgeable adults, but I obviously can't get into that mindset.  Maybe it will be a good thing if my being just pretty good means she doesn't get recruited into a big program, but i can obviously never, ever say this to her after we get back to normal.  All apologies! 

But that's tennis.  Millie's winter sport is cross-country skiing, and I think I hate it.  Aside from it being constant endurance and knowing how to pace and push your body, it requires a lot more talent in terms of reading the trail than I've developed.  One thing I've learned as Penny, and which the original has learned in his second life as well, it's that there are physical activities where it's fun to go all out and others where it's better just doing enough to burn some calories, and cross-country skiing isn't even that. 

(Oddly, I kind of enjoy using the Nordic machines at the gym - it's like a good run except your breasts don't bounce as much - but once you're out in the snow, it just kind of sucks!)

But I think I could endure that if it was just not looking the activity, because as both Millie's mom and an Inn person not wanting to leave someone in the lurch, I want to return her life to her just as she left it.  But, God, why are boys like this? 

I haven't talked a lot about having to dress like a girl Millie's age, because I really haven't figured out how not to sound like a creep or uptight mom or hypocrite.  There's lots of wearing leggings like they're pants and midriff-baring tops in warmer weather (or when you know you're not going to be outside), and I absolutely have become the sort of woman who thinks that sort of thing is okay to wear when working out but not when hanging out, even if you're doing both in the same city park.  Girls this age are also starting to experiment with cosmetics, and not only am I not ready as a mom, but I'm actually kind of too good at it:  I had to study hard and really drill myself to make it second nature, and it kind of takes the other 13-year-old girls by surprise when the tomboy whose dad especially doesn't want her putting anything on her face blends her makeup like she's been doing it longer than they've been alive.  Harmon giggled when I told her that I'd said my mother taught me because anything worth doing is worth doing well, and living up to that layer is going to be annoying. 

But I digress.  What I'm trying to get at is that, while tennis is just skirts that aren't that far off from regular clothes, skiing is spandex that shows that my chest and bottom have filled in a bit over the past few months.  I'm still more tall and rangy than curvy, but now a whole bunch of middle school boys who didn't realize Millie had breasts or a butt are taking notice and finding reasons to "accidentally" brush up against them, and, god, it's so uncomfortable, because I'm not sure what to think.  I know that, despite having a whole lot more life experience, I am a nearly-14-year-old girl on a certain level, with a whole bunch of hormones, and while some of these boys are leering like creeps (and let us not get into their dads!), some are just having their attention caught and are probably perfectly nice, and the sort of boys Millie would like.  Hell, I kind of like them, and I can't deny that I sometimes feel like I've acclimated to this age more than I'd like, when I feel patronized or come up against something in school that I didn't encounter in my previous lives or pick up some pop culture thing that Ray and Harmon don't know.  But, yes, hormones are flowing, I'm feeling very frustrated by the fact that I haven't had that sort of intimacy as part of my life for six months, and I sometimes think that maybe I should get myself a little boyfriend, just so that Millie doesn't look weird skipping another dance or have rumors swirl around her that she has to deal with when she gets back.  I won't, but "tween" does come from between.

And then, of course, there's the racism.  Yes, there have been a lot of Asian and Asian-American folks doing very well at the Olympics over the past couple of weeks, but there are still a lot of folks out there (mostly parents) who think winter sports are just for northern-European people like they don't have snow anywhere else in the world and have depressingly little filter about Millie participating in them.  Official school sports is pretty good about not putting up with that nonsense, but you still here it before people get escorted away, and during vacation-week invitationals, there's usually less enforcement.  This isn't my first go-round as an Asian-American, so it's not out of left field, but I must admit, I kind of figured Elizabeth might have been someone who brought out the worst in people and they reached for the worst possible thing - I'm not proud of ever having had the mindset of a white guy who thinks there must be some sort of explanation for vile racist shit - but that's definitely not the case with Millie.  That some of it came from a 15-year-old boy that looked like might become something and that Millie might like, well, that was the icing on the top of a terrible dessert.

So that kind of sucked, and being stuck in the apartment alone with Ray and Harmon today has been a pain.  The city's big enough that we can all kind of go our separate ways when things get uncomfortable, but Harmon decided to be flirty today.  I guess she teases Ray a lot when I'm not around, and he always says it's really inappropriate, but he got mad today, and Harmon giggled when he went in the restroom to relieve some tension, then outside to shovel.

Needless to say, I'm very ready to get back to being myself again.  I've had another card from Millie that sounds like she's feeling the same way, at least, but it can't come soon enough.

-Arthur/Penny/Millie

Arthur/Penny/Millie: Missing Date Night

There are some days when I almost want to return the attention of the various middle-school boys who awkwardly express interest in Millie, just so that I can go through the motions and maybe keep from getting too rusty at certain sorts of social interaction before next summer.  Yes, I'd be indulging certain insistent hormones as well, but I can kind of feel that part of my connection to Ray starting to atrophy and it kind of bothers me, especially because Harmon gets to go through the motions instead of me. 

In some ways, it would have been easier if I'd wound up becoming Millie the last weekend that the Inn was open for the summer.  We could have made excuses for where Penny was that would have been ridiculous but impossible to check, continued to go on what looked like daddy-daughter outings, and explained a while lot by just pulling closer in "Penny's" absence.  Heck, I might have convinced Ray to come with me (or "bring me") to The Changeling for the monthly meet-up.  We would have probably found a bunch of things that just didn't work, but word situations can give you a chance to be creative. 

The other alternative, of course, is for the three of us to just stay out do things as a family in all the time, getting used to each other and maybe making that work, but Ray and I belong to a lot of adult communities:  l socialize with other faculty and staff at the school and have authors groups, he networks with other attorneys and is active in the local Korean-American community, and there are some folks we just hang out with as a couple.  It's kind of gratifying that our absence was noted, but very frustrating to be on the outside looking in, and also kind of seeing a different dynamic forming:  On Halloween, Harmon thought it would be fun to wear one of the flight attendant uniforms from her(*) old life, getting Ray a matching pilot costume.  It was a weird fit; I was a lot taller than she was as Alicia, but Alicia was curvier, so the uniform stretched in different ways.  She also wore heels, which I very seldom did, because while Ray is confident enough in his masculinity to not find it a big deal, other people do.

(*) Pronouns are weird with Harmon.  She's spent years as Alicia, and has certainly embraced presenting herself as feminine, but there's a very masculine vibe to her and the way she approaches being a woman, like she's settling despite both Penelope and Alicia being upgrades to who she was, or like she intends to be the alpha in a given situation.  It's tough to use "she" when calling her "Harmon", but she's no longer Alicia and I'm damn sure not going to call her "Penny" or even "Penelope", and while she's gone by "Harmony", she doesn't seem to like it.

It wasn't a big deal, but it was the first really couple-y thing they've done since Harmon arrived, and it sort of broke the ice in terms of them doing more.  Not every night, but a couple times a week. and I can't deny that it's making me a little crazy.  Not afraid of Ray cheating on me or anything like that - I can read him pretty well by now, and there's definitely a sense when they get home that any fun he had was despite being out with Harmon than because of it, and he really seems to enjoy discussing it with me as my husband even if he's seeing his daughter while he does it - but the feeling of being left out of my own life hits pretty hard when they're out.  I kind of wish that I could say that Millie's life fills the void and distracts me, saying something about how much teenagers have to study compared to my day, but I can actually keep up with her classes.

What winds up happening is that I wind up playing video games online with Millie's classmates, and I don't mind that they regularly destroy me and ask why I've sucked so much since school started, but it just feels like such an isolating way to have your social life compared to what I was doing at their age and what Ray and Harmon are doing right at the same time.  Plus, the language!  I know it makes me sound like my grandmother, but I'm having a hard time getting used to tweens swearing at each other or calling girls sluts.  I've sort of grown a bit of a shell where that's concerned as Penny and forgotten a lot of the vile shit that must have gone through my mind as a boy/man, but even though they're addressing me, they're saying it about Millie, and as a mom that really drives me nuts.

But sometimes, afterwards, I think that maybe the ability to forget what something was like is part of what makes it possible to function as humans.  Not just people who have been to the Inn - although the fact that what it's like to be a man has receded quite a bit in my brain can be a blessing - but just generally.  Sure, I was probably a little brat with a foul mouth a Millie's age, and I'd probably react differently as a parent if I could really remember it clearly; my instincts to protect her might make me smother her, rather than letting her figure out where her lines are.

And, sometimes, when Ray and Harmon are out, I start to understand how she could feel so betrayed that she went out to investigate.  What I feel on date night is not quite the way a kid feels at having their parents feel there's something they'd rather do than be with them even for a few hours, but I hate that there's something really important going on without me.

And, at times, I wonder if Millie is really enjoying not having to feel all this.  I read about the girls in New York who are only a few years older than she is, and the fact that they seem to be doing okay makes me really nervous.  She really should have contacted us by now, and I don't know what's scarier - that she's landed someplace where she's in over her head, or that she might be dreading the idea of coming back now that she's been able to skip what must seem like the boring parts of one's life.

-Arthur/Penny/Millie

Ande: Movember!

Has any girl turned guy talked about shaving on this blog yet?  I haven't seen any, but then we're really outnumbered by the folks who went the other way, which makes sense.  I mean, it's hard losing a big part of your identity and all, but a lot of day to day stuff gets easier and who wants to complain about the creepy teacher not staring at your boobs, or claim that morning wood is more annoying than periods?  There's some hidden things that aren't great in terms of expectations and I still worry about losing my temper and losing control, but I know Andie got the more difficult situation. 

And shaving your face is pretty easy.  I haven't gone more than a day or two without doing it since becoming Andrew and by now it's just part of my morning routine.  At first, it was really important - neither of us wanted to be the guy who grows a full beard in high school, it was an unwanted reminder of my new masculinity every time I looked in the mirror, and it's just itchy and annoying when you miss a day.  Some guys get really into it, heating up foam and using a straight razor, but when I was a girl, I just took a bath rather than a shower and used a pink disposable every few weeks, since it's not like I was wearing miniskirts to school or on the swim team.  As a guy, I've basically been doing the same, just keeping a razor in the shower and doing it by feel while the steam and hot water has my pores or follicles or whatever open.  Don't even need shaving cream. 

There's some downsides to this, of course.  I'm basically doing it blind and shaving the sideburns off entirely rather than have them wind up uneven, and that wasn't really a big deal at first, and even desirable - I was still thinking of myself as a girl and didn't want 'em - but now I'm starting to look a little more baby-faced than I really want to, and it kind of feels like the sort of thing a grown man should be able to do. 

So, when a couple guys in one of my study groups came in looking a bit scruffy and mentioned that they were growing their beards out for "Movember", I figured what the hell?  If I don't like it, I can shave it off, and it's dumb to not see what I look like now that I've more or less accepted that this is who I'm going to be .

Right now, I look like a caterpillar is clinging to the very bottom of my upper lip for dear life. 

It's apparently hilarious. 

Don't take my word for it; Hildy apparently didn't even see it the first time she leaned in for a kiss and came away saying yuck, although she then said it was promising for just a few days' growth, with only a little detectable insincerity.  Griff was walking by and asked what was so funny and said he would try that.  He woke up the next morning with more than I'd managed in three days.

And I just got off a Zoom call with Andie, who saw what was on my face and then immediately started laughing, putting her head down on her desk to smother it, holding up a finger after a minute to say she needed another few seconds when I asked if she was done, and then letting out one last snicker when she sat up straight again. 

"Sorry, man, I just feel like I dodged a bullet, you know?"

"Har har.  But did you?  Do you think I might suck at growing hair because of some Inn thing, like it didn't make me male enough?"

She snorted.  "If it worked that way, I wouldn't get the cramps I do."

I allowed that, and talked with her a bit more.  She insisted on taking screenshots to show Mom & Dad, and that reaction will probably be interesting.

-Ande

Ande: First Anniversary

So here's a kind of funny thing:  Andie and I both had our first-anniversary dates about a week ago, and it's kind of funny how sometimes we're in sync like that, even though we're in different parts of the country.  I mean, we should be - we're twins and we've exchanged lives! - but things don't quite wind up lining up quite so often as we'd like.  

She and her boyfriend did fly out this summer, though, to see the fireworks on the Fourth and get a chance to hang out with me and Hildy.  The spare room they used has since been filled with Griff's girlfriend - they really like having their own space - and I like Chipper.  I don't think I would have dated him myself, though Andie does think about what might have been when hanging around Hildy, but he seems like a pretty good guy who likes Andie a lot.  I'm also glad to see that long Covid isn't completely kicking her ass these days, though she shows symptoms often enough that we didn't bring up the idea of switching back.

Strangely enough, I may have felt more pangs for my old life during the anniversary date.  Hildy and I don't dress up much when we go out, to the extent that she was making jokes about how completely buried her one pair of heels were in her closet, but she clearly spent a lot more time than usual, curling her hair, doing her makeup, waxing her legs, all that.  On the one hand, it kind of sounds like a real pain in the neck these days, but in the other, my heart kind of jumped into my throat when I met her at her place.  Sure, I was wearing a coat and tie,  but it wasn't the same effect. 

The date itself was fun - we had a nice meal at Legal and then went to a show at the A.R.T., then got snacks at Insomnia Cookies because we didn't really want to mar the night by not being able to talk or way into a bar.  We spent the night at her place (we didn't want to get the stink-eye from the new roommate either).

Andie texted me a selfie overnight, saying she knew it was weird for me but if she was wearing garters and stockings and had a big old slit practically all the way to her butt, plus a push-up bra, she was showing off.  I laughed, saying she looked good and I don't know if I would have had the patience, and she said, yeah, probably not, but sometimes we both overcompensate.  I asked how I overdo it, and she said she couldn't help but laugh at how short my hair was in July  especially since I had to wear a baseball cap in order to avoid sunburning my scalp. 

She's got a point, I guess. 

Anyway, it's kind of worth noting that I've been doing my thing as a guy long enough to have an anniversary that's more about being happy about something in this life rather than thinking that i can't believe I've been a guy long enough to have dated a girl for a year. 

-Ande

Ande: Staying put for the summer

I'm pretty sure that there have been moving trucks parked somewhere on my street constantly for the past two weeks.  The profs and TAs make jokes about September 1st being Moving Day because every lease in the Boston area runs from September to August to accommodate the schools, but between all the graduations and folks going from closing dorms to sublets for summer programs, there are a whole lot of folks packing and unpacking right now.

I'm not among them, though - the rent's got to be paid through the summer, and the parents of the guy who left during Christmas break aren't going to be paying his part any more, so I don't have the luxury of working a part-time job with the idea of making spending money this year.  Or necessarily going home, because you don't necessarily make Boston rent money working the same job back there. 

Anyway, to make it a relevant-to-this-blog thing, it kind of got me thinking about how maybe I've left home for good and only realized it afterward in the same way I stopped being a girl for good a few years back but wouldn't really know until a year or so later.  I left home back in the fall thinking I was just going to school, and home would still be home, but it's entirely possible that I've had my last extended period in my own room, and that the house where I grew up was now a place I would just visit as opposed to a place where I lived, barring an extended period of not being able to find a job post-graduation.  It feels like a decision i should have made deliberately.

Mom and Dad think it's good that I didn't, that it would have been another moment that would have made them cry.  Andie thinks I'm being silly, but she's moved back home for the summer and may actually wind up commuting next fall.  Griff and Lindy nodded for a second, not having thought of it that way.

On the other hand, it's kind of nice.  I feel like I've slowly spent the past year and a half making this life mine, after coming east to attend the school Andie chose, and if it's not my original plan, I'm mostly still doing what I want, without looking over my shoulder to see if Andie or my folks approve.  I'm not doing anything weird or dangerous, but it's been months since I wondered if I was doing something out of character, and even if I love my parents and brother-turned-sister, sometimes just having them around makes me ask the question.

That said - it was hot as shit yesterday, and I still don't really have a handle on when a guy can go shirtless in the middle of the city.  Hildy looked way more comfortable in her halter and booty shorts than I did in my t-shirt and cargo shorts!

-Ande

Ande: Shipping Down to Boston?

Is seeing Dropkick Murphys at Fenway Park (well, the connected music hall) on St. Patrick's Day weekend the most stereotypical college male thing imaginable?  Maybe.  But my roommate Griff bought four tickets last fall, but that turned out to be super-optimistic:  We actually lost a roommate over winter break - not lost like "dead", but like "his grades were terrible and he figured maybe he'd be happier as an electrician than an electrical engineer" - who was going to use his second pair, and asked me if I'd be interested.  I wasn't, at first, but Hildy thought it would be a lot of fun.  So we said we'd take them a couple weeks ago, and he put the other one up (purchased for the girl who got back with her high school boyfriend over Christmas) on SutbHub or something, and I didn't think a lot of it.

Then, at around noon on Saturday, I get a text from Mack, saying she's at Alewife, and was I up to anything?  Hildy was doing something with lab partners, and while I had figured on studying all afternoon myself, I was already looking for excuses not to, since it was kind of a surprisingly nice day, so I said why not; we'll meet up at the Common.

I was scrolling on my phone when I heard her call out and looked up and did a little blink.  It's been almost a year and a half since I've seen her in person, and she sure hit me different now that she's seventeen and I've kind of accepted that I'm probably going to live out my life as a man who likes women.  She was wearing blue jeans that had rips up and down the legs from how tight they were, high-top sneakers, a white crop-top and a full-zip hoodie tied around her waist.  Maybe a bit too much makeup, but her short haircut was cute.  "That's not a college-visiting outfit."

She laughed.  "Yeah, like I'm getting into some fancy Boston college!  Nah, just down for a concert tonight."  She grinned for a second like she wanted me to ask what before blurting it out.  "Don't laugh, but I'm seeing the Dropkick Murphys."

I folded my arms, kind of suspicious.  "Really."

"I know, it is so white it has bagpipes, but look at me.  I am in fact just that white, as far as anybody can tell, and not only did a guy in my class put them on a playlist for me, but I should probably make some effort to get in touch with the Irish hooligan roots everyone will assume I have when I go off to Springfield on my own."  She shrugged.  "Besides, Jonah is getting married to a great guy i would have met if I'd been staying with Momma during quarantine, and every once in a while the invitation on the fridge makes me want to scream.  It's good screaming-at-injustice music."

"And you didn't know I was going to the same concert?"

She started to open her mouth to reply, but held it like that for a while.  "I think you might actually have put it on my radar by putting it in the group text, but aren't they playing all weekend?  Anyway, we're probably on opposite sides of the building."  Without it needing to be said, we pulled our phones out and brought out the ticket apps.  She started laughing even harder when she saw we were two seats apart.  "Oh my god, what are the motherfucking odds?"

"Yeah, my girlfriend's going to find this hilarious."

She gave me a look that seemed to be trying to imply she was wiser than her years.  "C'mon, Ande.  I may have been that kind of bitch before, but I haven't been in a long time.  And you're still a kid to me."

"Is that what you thought when you offered to, you know..."

Her eyes went as big as they could, and then she shook her head.  "Damn, I did offer that, didn't I?  I mean, mostly it was about making sure you didn't miss out, but, let's be honest, the teenage part of me did have a crush on you.  You are good-looking and it would be nice to be with someone who knows, but, honestly, I've had three high school boyfriends and it's great fun until they do something that makes me go 'that's so cute', and you're kind of doing that right now."  She folded her arms and smirked.

I raised my hands in surrender, we declared a truce, and then went to find ice cream before hitting Newbury Comics and other places around Quincy Market for the afternoon.

I guess I'm not supposed to find shopping that much fun as a guy, and I know that when I'm getting stuff for myself, I'm kind of happy to just see what's got a good price at Marshall's (when I'm not at home), but i don't know if that's all I need as a straight guy or if I know how much fun I could be having and don't want it to bring me down.  I haven't really had a chance to be "dragged along" with Lindy yet, but I had a good time with Mack, and I don't think that because she was giving me some sort of treat.

Somewhere around or four I texted Lindy that I'd run into a friend who was also going to the concert, so maybe we could grab dinner.  Mack suggested a Mongolian barbecue place after seeing that all of her other go-to places from when she lived in the area were gone.  She was starting to say something about that when Lindy arrived and gave us the look I'd been dreading.  "I didn't realize 'Mack' was a high-school girl."

"Oh, yeah, my family wound up vacationing in her hometown for a couple summers in a row and we wound up hanging out."  It didn't sound weird to me, and Lindy shrugged it off.  Eventually, Griff showed up, we ate, and wound up at the show

Which was a lot of fun!  I'm not sure I would have been into the band as Andi, but Mack's right in that it's the sort of punk you can yell with but still be having fun because, like, the first song of the concert was some sort of Revolutionary War-era thing about making out in the servants' quarters or something like that and they've also done deep-cut baseball songs, although Griff said they didn't do either of the big ones that night (unless you count "Shipping Up to Boston", which, I guess became a pitcher's entrance music because it's about dismemberment).

Griff and Mack hit it off, at least, although I didn't realize how well until I realized Mack was still heading to our apartment while I turned off to head to Hildy's because her roommates were still on spring break.  She had an early morning call with some overseas classmates, so I went back to my place in the morning, where I found Mack making coffee in her crop-top and panties.

"Fun night?"

She smiled.  "Let me tell you, 19-year-old boys don't really know what they're doing, but they can do it all night!  Trust me, I know from both sides of this!  Anyway, want a cup?"  I nodded, and she poured two.

"Cary going to be worried?"

"Nah, he knew I'd be staying over somewhere, probably here, although he'll tell anyone who asks that I found a hotel room when the concert didn't finish before midnight."  She smirked.  "Kind of hoped it would be with you, but you really like your girlfriend."

I stopped drinking my coffee but still held the mug in front of my face.  "What?"

She sighed.  "I'm awful.  I told you, I get frustrated about my boyfriends being kids, but I tell myself that the real problem is I hate lying to them - which, let me tell you, is kind of new, because I absolutely was that bitch the first time I was in high school - and I figured, hey, maybe Ande will get me.  But, no, you're really into Hildy, which is sweet, but, annoying."  She took a sip.  "How do you do it?  Like, ever since that first time at the Inn, I've always been with people who knew I wasn't really the person they see, but now I'm looking at college in Springfield, and while I'm kind of psyched to be the first person in my family to go, even if it's the long way around and Momma and Karla will never know..."  She held out her arm.  "I mean, look how pale I am at the end of the winter.  Am I just going to start thinking of myself as a white chick once I've got nobody who remembers me being otherwise?"

"There's worse things to be."

"Oh, you know I don't mean it like that and you're my favorite white girl!"

"Whose dick you were after."

"Right!  Where am I gonna be if I don't have people bringing me back down to Earth?"

I laugh.  "I know.  Maybe you could come to First Thursdays, after you graduate?"  I told her about the regular meet-ups at the Changeling.

She seemed about to say something when Griff came out of his room, and we looked at each other a bit disappointed that we were going to have to start talking like normal people, improvising together on the fly when he asked why we'd never hooked up.  Girff asked if we wanted to do brunch, but Mack said she kind of wanted to drive, so she got her pants on, let me walk her to the Hynes station, and gave me a little peck before heading to Park then Alewife then points north.

I've got to admit, it's been hanging with me the past week, especially when I looked at Andie's pictures of herself in a bikini at spring break and thinking how she really doesn't have much reminding her of her old life when Mom and Dad aren't around, and maybe that's better that feeling I'm lying to Hildy.  It doesn't happen very much - although I kind of wonder how she parses me being happy to talk about my family but not really telling any stories from more than a couple years ago - but it does, occasionally, and, heck, sometimes I wonder what Mack thinks of me always calling her "Mack" when I know she's Krystle, and whether I'll wind up somewhere where I'm just this guy and nothing else to anyone else in a couple years, to the point where I might try and do something I know is wrong to not entirely disappear inside being "Andrew".

-Ande/Andy/Andi

Daryl/Zee: First Thursday Club

As I mentioned last time, one of the reasons I decided to settle in Boston is that there's Inn people there, but it hasn't really been an official support system until, I guess, fairly recently, when one of the local folks decided that she owned a bar and might as well get folks together there.  Invitations got sent out and, after work, I headed the other direction up the Red Line and then took a buss from the end of the line a little way up Massachusetts Avenue and found "The Changeling".

Props on the clever name - it is, at heart, an Irish pub, even if the Irish lady who runs it used to be a Texan (and thus puts unusually good barbecue on the menu) and is thus sort of like those creatures placed in other people's lives.  Is that too much explaining the joke?

So, I walked in a little nervously and saw it was a bit busy, what with it being happy hour and all.  But then, it's just a bar, so I walked up to the counter and asked the bartender if she knew anything about "First Thursday Changelings' Club".

She was actually Irish, and said I'd be wantin' t' go t' the far booth, pointing me at one in a back corner, near a foosball table but no windows.  One person was already sitting there - a woman of about 40 or so, who leapt up when she saw me.  "Hi, I'm Ashlyn!  Welcome to my bar.  You must be...  Za-rye-uh?"

"Za-ree-ya.  Call me 'Zee'.  You look great!"  I looked her up and down a little, not sure what I'd expected, other than it wasn't quite this.  As someone who had a number of older female friends as Magda, I've known a few who having not just been very attractive in their youth, but who traded off that, are either blithely unaware of how time has worked on them or who have been maniacal in maintaining it to the extent that they can and won't let you miss it.  Ashlyn, it seemed, was in the second category, wearing a green dress with a plunging neckline that showed she still had an impressive rack, although it was maybe a little tighter than intended in some other spots.  Her hair is bright red, and she's got strong-looking arms and legs as well as a face that ha a few more lines but great cheekbones.

"Thank you.  40 can hit hard and I'm not going down without a fight!"  We laughed, and then we started talking.  She asked if I was a Celtics fan yet, and I told her that I'd manage to cling to the Bulls despite not having been in Chicago for a while, and she expressed her sympathy but also her respect, because she'd given in little by little over the years, especially once she opened the bar.

We talked a lot of sports, and, god, I missed that; the ex's friends weren't really sports people, none of my female friends have been, and even the best of guy friends tend to get weird when a lady likes sports.  I mean, I did the same thing back in the day, because it's like a signal that you're extra-compatible or something at best and a threat to the ego at worst.

We'd gone on about basketball for a while when a blonde lady about Ashlyn's age came in and he beckoned her over.  "Zee, Penny; Penny, Zee.  We shook hands like it was some secret 'we're actually guys and don't hug' signal, although Ashlyn was a hugger where this old friend was concerned.  "So, how's the new job?"

Penny grunted.  "It's a lot.  I mean, it used to be enough to be married to a lawyer while writing a couple books a year, but Ray's practice is just getting off the ground and Millie is just good enough to need expensive coaches, so now I'm dealing with a classroom full of twenty Millies twice a day, and this is just part time!"  She turned and gave me a wry grin.  "Don't get me wrong, being a mother and a teacher is very rewarding, but sometimes I wish I could have passed my daughter bookish Arthur Milligan DNA as opposed to how athletic and competitive the original Penelope Lincoln was!"

That kind of bowled me over.  "Geez, I hadn't thought of that."

"It's weird!  It's not like I ever look at Millie and feel like she's not my kid or love her any less, but if every parent looks at their kids and wonders where that comes from, at least they have some idea!  I keep getting blindsided by the parts of her that aren't clearly Ray."

I nodded, and then she pointed at the guy who was walking from the bar.  "Now, Ande - Ande isn't going to have to worry about that, since he'll be using his twin's DNA!"

Ande started to back off but Ashlyn grabbed his arm.  "Don't mind her, she doesn't mean you're going to be having kids any time soon.  Now, c'mon, how do you know Penny?"

"I don't know her, I just, uh, sort of asked for something weird at a book signing."

"Not that weird - I get one or two Inn folks who want that to be part of their autographs a year.  Usually on the Pygmalion books, even though I haven't done one of those in five years, although some of the Wandering Inn ones attract the same audience.  Not that Ashlyn pays attention to anything but the mysteries."

A few other folks showed up who don't contribute to the blog and said to respect their privacy.  We stayed well past happy hour, and by the time things were about to break up at around ten, one gave a big, exaggerated, maybe somewhat tipsy sigh.  "Well, Zee, it looks like you got lucky and Lenny's not going to show up."

Penny turned to Ashlyn.  "Wait, you invited Lenny?"

"What?  I couldn't not invite him!"

Penny harrumphed.  "Agree to disagree."

I noticed a bunch of folks were kind of trying not to look at me.  "Who's Lenny?"

The lady who brought him up took me by the hand.  "Lenny spent, like, eight weeks as a woman five years or so ago, and ever since, he's hit on everyone who returned from the Inn a moderately attractive woman, saying that we should stick together so that we can share everything about our lives."

A few other folks jumped in.  "Which isn't entirely wrong."  "But he's such a weirdo about it!"  "I don't know how he even finds out."  "Learned what a girl likes, though."  "And that dick--"

The first woman slapped the table.  "Hey, stop making him sound good!  Fucker cheated on me with that stewardess for two months!"  She pointed at me.  "I'm just saying, you are totally his type - he really likes girls who used to be guys, and black girls besides.  He acts like he really knows what you go through, and talks a good game, but he's a fucking dog."

I was a bit taken aback.  "Well, I'm not looking to get back into another relationship right now."

Penny punched my shoulder.  "You say that now, but c'mon, you're a romantic like me, and guys like Lenny have a real appeal to gals like us.  I mean, if I hadn't already been married when he set his sights on me..."  She shook her head to clear it.  "Welp, that's enough sharing for tonight!  Anyone heading to Camberville and want to split a cab?"

A couple folks raised their hands, and the party split up after that.  At that relatively late hour, it took me over an hour to get home, and the walk at the end got my blood flowing just enough that I couldn't sleep now it's too late to try.

Good thing it's no-meetings Friday!

-Zee

Ande: Off-campus and In...

Well, infatuated at least.  I think?  It's weird feeling like this about a girl.

Anyway, first things first - I'm back at Northeastern for the fall term, although instead of a dorm, me and three other guys have an apartment a couple miles away.  I'm not yet sure whether this is more concentrated testosterone or less than being in a dorm, but it's probably more.  Like, it's only been a week and I'm already resigned to being the one that's going to be cleaning the bathroom, because I came in to wash my hands and could spot two distinct types of facial hair in the sink.  Apparently I'm weird for choosing to shave in the shower?  And the pubic hair!  God, the pubes! Like, i know it's a cliché that I can't handle mess because I used to be a girl, but my friends are disgusting!

It's not a bad place, though - the guy who's local scouted it out over the summer, since all leases in this area run September to August because of students, and it's pretty convenient to the school.  A bit to the south, because Boston is expensive, but it's an easy enough walk and a block away from a bus stop that goes right through three campuses, at least.

Anyway, that's where I saw her, wearing an MIT t-shirt, jeans with the knees worn out, short black hair with a streak of purple in it, and I might have ignored her except she suddenly broke out laughing and her smile was something else.  She saw me looking, said "what?", and I found myself tongue-tied enough to just ask what was so funny.  She named the podcast, the bus came, and as she moved to the back I stood up front, both because I was only going a couple stops and because standing next to her made me tense.

Found the podcast, though, and, yes, it was pretty funny.

I didn't see her again until Friday, because class schedules change day-to-day and the #1 bus either comes every five minutes or gets weirdly delayed and then three come at once.  The latter was happening, I wound up on the bench next to her, said I liked the podcast, and we talked about it a bit.  I managed to sit next to her as far as Northeastern while she continued on across the river.

Anyway, her name is Hildy, she's cute as heck, says the weird way I spell my name will help her remember me, and I don't know if a boy ever made me feel like this when I was a teenage girl.  Like, for a moment I felt like some bit of internal bracing was kicked out of place and I couldn't figure out exactly what did it.  I'd barely heard her speak and just barely spoke a few words to her, she's pretty but there are a lot of other attractive people out there who didn't do this to me, and, somehow, every other guy around me didn't seem to be reacting the same way!

This didn't happen with Cindi.  She decided she liked me - and it did kind of feel like she decided it, rather than having something about "Andy" capture her attention in a way that didn't let go - and I went with it for kind of the same reason, because you're supposed to have a boyfriend/girlfriend, it felt like something Andy would do, and I was kind of flattered, even if I had my issues with her.  It built into something more than just playing a part, but I don't know as any moment of it was that intense.

I kind of daydreamed in class a lot on Friday, and I wonder how many people get into that sort of state trying to figure that whole thing out but not really aware of it the way someone who has tried to work out what it means that all their hormones and brain chemistry has changed does.  And it makes me think about how I can get really mad, just ready to lash out in a way I never did in my original life, and all the guys who haven't given that much thought, or even been encouraged to not give it a lot of thought, and how many of them won't be able to handle being told that the girl isn't interested.  I'm pretty sure I won't be that guy, but I also sort of recognize that, while we've talked a couple times and I'm hoping to see her every time I ride the bus, she hasn't given me a last name or an address yet.  I probably could find her online, but I'm kind of worried about the line between curious and stalker.

Anyway, here's hoping we meet again soon!

-Ande

Daryl/Zee: Wouldn't Be a Proper Inn Person Otherwise

There's a bunch of reasons us folks who have been to the Inn wind up in and around Boston, eventually; it's the nearest big city that has a direct connection to Old Orchard Beach, if only by rail, so a lot of folks who wind up switched around come from there.  If you're looking to change back and at a loose end, it's tempting to settle there so that logistics don't mess it up - they never posted to the blog, but I heard about one person whose borrowed identity was low on PTO, so they would drive up to Maine, sleep there, and then come back to Boston until they changed so that the person getting their old life back wouldn't get in too much trouble at work.  And it's a pretty nice city; not Chicago or New York but it's got all the sports, plenty of museums, at least one restaurant from whatever cuisine you happen to like, and, relatedly, your various ethnic enclaves.

"Inn People" isn't really one of those, but I do think we need each other.  You look at some entries from when this blog first started and there's someone who wound up really far from everyone else, they drop off the site, and when someone gets back in contact they've got a conspiracy wall that was apparently 10% informative and 90% paranoid.  Or you can just lose track of who you were before, like this huge portion of your life just didn't matter.  And given my personal history of losing myself, it's probably a good idea to have people around who can say "hey, Zee, what would Daryl think?"

(Is this always a good rule for an Inn Person?  Probably not!  Is it good for me to occasionally ask the question?  More often than not!)

Plus, and I cannot stress this enough, the new job is full-time rather than freelance, offers health insurance, and only averages a little more than two days a week required in the office because my job entails leading in-person training sessions as well as project management, and there's enough hardware engineering/prototyping going on that a lot of the team is on-site anyway.  Apparently my willingness to come in got me the position over a few people who insisted on being completely remote even though my "Zee" résumé isn't quite so good as my "Daryl + Elaine + Zee" one would be, if I could get people to believe in it.

So, that's me in Boston.  I found a fairly decent condo in Dorchester, although the down-payment has nixed me doing any sort of real vacation for a couple of years.  It's not quite on the subway, but one of those bike things is nearby, and that's probably better for me anyway.

Will I be here for good?  Who knows, I may decide that even in a fairly Black neighborhood, this city lives down to its racist reputation and decide to go elsewhere.  But for now, it suits me.

-Zee

Jonah/Krystle: Just a bridesmaid, not yet a bride

 ... but it's good to see things from inside.

(Doesn't exactly rise from just rhyming to poetry, does it?)

So, I don't talk about the family I was shoved into a lot these days.  Part of moving to New Orleans was that being part of someone else's family is weird, after all, and it's not fair since Momma Kamen and Karla and the rest don't know that they're part of this weird identity-switch thing so they shouldn't be too much a part of the blog without knowing.  But it sometimes means I'm probably not fair to them; Karla, especially, probably got a raw deal because I still kind of looked down on women like her, raising multiple kids from multiple men and moving back in with her mother, when I first became Krystle, and even when my life started running on a similar track, I had a tendency to see it as God teaching me humility, which can kind of let you still think less of someone, like the important lesson is "don't be a jerk about it" as opposed to actual empathy.  That she kind of enjoyed her little sister getting knocked down a peg didn't exactly make things easier.

But things are better between us now, and not just because we're far apart and our kids liked each other.  She's also really gotten her life together as well, and while I certainly know a lot better than I would have before to say it's because she's got a good man in her life, Rakim's presence has not exactly hurt.  They both seem to think so too, because (as I'm sure anyone reading this has guessed by now), they got married on Saturday.

Also obvious:  I was a bridesmaid.  It's kind of weird, because I'm not really her sister and I don't know if I would have been just a few years back when we saw each other often, but I suspect she might have included her sister Krystle just to please her mom even if she or I had been fighting.  Which meant that I took a full week of vacation for this and flew up to Boston with Moira last Friday.

We got there ahead of Gabe, so I checked into the hotel he had booked and took Moira to the Children's Museum, which isn't far off from where his train would get in at South Station.  I'd kind of expected this to be a group thing, figuring that when I told Moira we were taking a trip back East, she'd want to see some of her old friends, but she never mentioned them.  It's been two years, I know, an eternity for a little kid, but she had left her old life more or less completely behind.

Eventually, Gabe got in, and we made an early night of it after getting some dinner because even one time zone change can hit a kid hard when bedtime is supposed to be 8pm.  Sitting in the hotel room with Gabe that night was kind of a strange sensation, because we hadn't arrived a week early just so that we could see the fireworks on the Fourth - we were going to be introducing him to a fair number of people, and wanted to do it early enough so as not to look like we were stealing the bride's thunder.

And we did.  Of course, Saturday was already spoken for, as Karla had made an appointment for me to actually try on my bridesmaid's dress so the shop could do any alterations.  She clucked a bit about forgetting how muscular climbing made my arms - I really like it, but I readily admit that anything sleeveless really highlights them and anything with sleeves looks tight unless it's fairly loose, and because of my chest, anything too loose makes me look fat; even when I'm not going to a wedding, I try everything on before buying, which I never did as a guy - but she rightly cooed about how adorable Moira was in her "junior bridesmaid" dress.  Seven is apparently too old to be flower girl, and Rakim has a younger niece.

Then we spent most of the day with Karla, her kids, Rakim, Momma Kamen, and some other Kamen family I've probably never mentioned.  Some of them had met Gabe before, but either before I was Krystle or during the height of the pandemic, so it was basically new.  They all seem to like him, although there were a lot of questions about whether he knew about "my" wild past, and thus a lot of cutesy "I'm a whole different woman these days".

Sunday was a chance to see "Big Moira", who remains completely taken with her namesake and joked about how if she'd known that all it took to get me to visit was someone getting married, she'd have started looking harder for men who aren't complete shite years ago (leaving Little Moira confused as to whether or not she'd said a bad word).

After that, it sort of became a blur.  My parents came down to see Moira and meet Gabe, which justifiably left him a bit confused as to why I almost seemed more excited to see them than my mother and sister, and I said it was complicated, that they'd been a big help when I was pregnant and continued to be even though things were really complicated between me, them, "Jonah", his girlfriend, etc.  Hopefully he'll never have any reason to really dig into the chronology of it, because we all kind of stretched the truth a lot.

While Gabe and Mom were playing with Moira in a park, Dad chuckled, saying he never thought he'd be telling me I'd found a really good man, then awkwardly mentioned that he didn't know if he and Mom would have been okay if it had come to that without all the Inn weirdness.  He likes to think he would, but it's taken them a long time to really come to grips with it, especially since he really didn't understand if I was trans, nonbinary, or what now.  I said I really didn't either, that I know some people in the same boat who have gotten into what the Inn does to our gender identities, but I've just been trying to take it as it comes, and eventually Gabe was part of what came.

He was being very careful about asking whether, in the moment Gabe had proposed, I had felt like I could tell him the truth.  I knew that part of the question was that if I had, I'd be able to tell him who Mom and Dad really are to me, and it probably hurt them a little that I hadn't.  I told him truthfully that I was overwhelmed in the moment, and that as I thought about it afterwards, I wasn't sure.  Gabe's not homophobic or transphobic, to the point where I've seen him tell a guy that hit on him that he had a girlfriend, but, hey, it can't hurt to ask, but I don't know if I want to because it's hard to kick out one of the things a relationship was originally built on even if we've created a much more solid foundation.  He understood, and understands that I hate lying, but hopes that maybe I'll see it from another perspective sometime.

After that, there was Karla's bachelorette party; I haven't had that much to drink in a long time, and I've really glad that I legitimately don't know any embarrassing stories about her youth, because maybe I'd have spilled them.  Karla seemed to appreciate what she saw as my restraint, though.  We rented a canoe to watch the Fourth of July fireworks from the river, which was a thing everyone should do at least once even if it's not exactly easy to be part of a mob returning small boats to a dock in the dark at 11pm and then another mob getting on public transportation.

Then Saturday, an the wedding, and my God, am I going to have to be in the middle of that next year?  So much makeup, and hair, and calling the venues to make sure everything is okay.  I've never been this close to the center - I was a last-minute plus-one at the only one I've been to as a woman and barely remember any I went to as a kid - and I absolutely understand why "wedding planner" is a business.  I manage a small franchise location, which is like a half-dozen employees and maybe a couple dozen guests at a time, and while a lot of the concerns are the same, it's like ten times as many people, everyone is emotionally heightened, and I've probably got more experience in management then most people who suddenly have to plan a party for a hundred folks who will try to take advantage of being your good friend or family do.

But, Karla looked beautiful in her dress, Momma Kamen cried about how strange it was to be really on her own for the first time since she was in her twenties (although I ribbed her about the silver fox she'd brought as her plus one), we danced into the night, and, boy, was Gabe really still full of energy when we went back to our hotel because Moira was ready to drop.  Spooning afterwards, he asked if I still wanted to go through with that, and I honestly said that, yeah, I did, although I'm still trying to talk myself into a big life-change requiring you work yourself up about it so much.

Sunday morning, we all had a nice brunch before Karla & Rakim jetted off to their honeymoon in Bermuda, and then we parted ways at South Station as Gabe got on a train and Moira and I headed to the airport.  Hopefully, we're not going to be parting at the end of a weekend much longer; he's visiting NOLA early next month so we can look at neighborhoods even if we're not exactly looking at specific houses, since he trusts me to be the person on-site while he looks through the phone's camera.

I guess that's our next step, just a year behind Karla.

-Jonah/Krystle

Andi/Andy : Freshman Year Down, Summer Starting

So I just realized that there's nobody who might come in and look over my shoulder as I post something here, two weeks after getting home, and I guess this means that I'm just used to this?  That I'm going to be Andy for life and maybe going back would be harder than staying this way.

The funny thing is, Andy probably could have updated the blog with his/her adventures as a freshman girl all year without it being a big deal; his roommate was a cool lesbian who is really into writing slash fanfic for some detective series and even if she didn't believe "Andrea" used to be "Andrew" before visiting a magical inn, she would absolutely have been into someone writing about their life as if they were really someone else dropped into it.  Me, I got a jock who gave me a hard time every time I said I'd been to the museum or streamed a movie that was not built on explosions.  So much more testosterone in the room than I wanted!

The whole floor was guys, which was some crazy immersion therapy, even after having been Andy for the previous couple years, because we could always come home and have each other and our parents know who we really were, or really had been after Andy unilaterally decided he wasn't going to saddle me with his long covid by switching back.  Now it was 24/7, and it was kind of either be Andy or go nuts.  Not that most of the guys on the floor were like my roommate, or I was at some boys' boarding school where you could go weeks without seeing anyone else or anything like that, but when you're surrounded by guys during your just kicking back/studying hours, it starts to mess with what you think is normal for at least that part of your life, it can kind of bleed over into the rest.  I wasn't quite a complete idiot in less than two weeks, but I did kind of notice the way I was talking about girls with other guys after a while.  Not disrespectful, I hoped, but much more "them" than "us".

Plus, I spent less time with folks who knew me.  I thought I'd see Mack occasionally, but the day in September when she came down for the Janelle Monae concert was kind of uncomfortable.  She looked more grown-up than she had before - she'd gotten her hair curled, put on some makeup, and padded her bra a bit - but even though I'm just a year and a half older than she is, officially, folks looked at the college freshman hanging around with the high school junior kind of weird.  Not much, but she pointed out that I'd just get to know more people who would wonder what our deal was if she kept coming down for stuff.

Cindi and I thought we'd be seeing more of each other, too - she's going to school in New York, and that didn't seem quite so far, but apparently it is in the Northeast, especially since we left our cars back home.  Even with regular buses and trains between the cities, you're still maybe looking at leaving later than you would and coming back earlier, her roommate was not going to let me crash in her dorm room (and that's reasonable! I wouldn't want her trying to sleep around my roommate!), plus you often can't just go straight there, but there's stops in Providence or Hartford or New Haven or whatever.  It's a huge hassle, but whenever one of us implied it was a huge hassle, the other felt slighted, we found we had less to talk about at Thanksgiving, and...  Well, not sure exactly when we broke up, but we did.  Not like Andy and Len - we're still following each other on Instagram and stuff - but it got weird for a while.  She's blossoming, but I kind of had a bit of a "I shouldn't even be dating anyway, because it's all a lie" funk.  I haven't seen her since coming home.  I hope it's not too weird.

What is weird is how much Andy has committed to my life/his life/her life.  I was still mad at her when I went off to Boston, and Thanksgiving was kind of weird, but by Christmas I'd sort of settled into the whole guy's dorm thing, and started talking about changing my major and looking at other parts of the class catalog.  It still kind of felt like giving up, but Andy's recovery has been kind of slow, and I kind of think about the number of hills I walk around campus or the time I spend on public transportation and I'm not sure I'd swap good lungs for ovaries.

Spring semester was more fun, though - I knew the city and campus better, the classes were more interesting, and making Andy's life my own has made things a little smoother.  I do, occasionally, wonder if this electrical engineering major would have been more difficult as myself.  I haven't been a jerk, I hope, but Andy and I have been noticing the way teachers and classmates have been treating us a bit differently for the past few years, and while this isn't entirely easy mode, I do sometimes wonder if I'd be on track to getting frustrated as myself and even wind up reverting to some more traditionally-feminine major.

(Looks at all those "myself"s and sighs)

I'm going to have a real hard time with the whole "I'm a guy going forward" thing, aren't I?  I've kind of got to, because Andy is doing more to embrace his - her! - feminine side.  It's getting warm, and I can't miss that she's shaving her legs more, letting her hair grow out, and hasn't made any comments about clothes or makeup or anything being weird since I got back for the summer, aside from wearing wedges most of the time and saying she misses being taller.  Heck, she wears actual heels at work.

(But more about that later!)

-Still kind of Andi-with-an-i in my heart.

Jonah/Krystle: Just Like That

It's no secret around the gym that I've been looking for another job; they've seen me come to work right from interviews wearing skirts and heels and other stuff I don't generally go for, and besides, everyone who gets paid by the hour is looking for a new job.  Heck, a lot of people higher up are.  Low unemployment, but lots of bosses who don't realize people have options.  It's a lot easier if you've got a college degree, though, so I've come up short a lot.

I hadn't been on an interview the day I got called into the manager's office at the end of shift, so I wasn't dressed up, unless you consider lycra dressy.  I'm worried about getting fired, of course, but my boss just looks at me like he hasn't really done that since I was hired.  He wasn't alone, though - there was a guy in a suit from the corporate office.  "So, I gather you've been looking for new work?"

"Uh, yeah - don't misunderstand, I love it here, but my daughter's getting big enough that Momma's apartment is starting to feel small, plus she needs school clothes and supplies, and, well, there have been a lot of weeks when it's not close to full time unless someone gets sick.  I mean, I get it - lots of folks in Cambridge still not ready to come inside and exert themselves around people breathing heavy --"

He seizes on that.  "But you haven't missed any time, have you?"

"I've been lucky."  I smile, realizing he probably can't see it under my mask.  "And, you know, I'm careful."

He nods.  "I see that.  It's got you cross-trained pretty well, too."  I shrug.  "So.  How would you like to have a manager's job?"

My eyes go wide.  "Is Bob leaving?"

He laughs.  "No, not yet.  Here's where it gets tricky.  The opening isn't here.  We've opened a few new locations over the past few months, and they've had some staffing issues.  Hiring folks who don't know the day-to-day business, others who do but leave after a few weeks.  Others who, uh, aren't a good fit for the community.  That's where we need you, at one of the new locations."

I racked my brains.  "You need me in Salem?"

He stared at me, the hardest a man has looked me in the eyes since I became Krystle.  "No.  We want you in New Orleans."

I'd like to say I did something cool or funny like laughing, but instead I just stared back, trying to see if this was a test.  "New Orleans, Louisiana?"

"I don't know that there's another one."

I let out the breath I didn't remember holding.  "That's a big move."

He nodded.  "It is.  But your performance reports have been excellent, you are clearly looking for better things, and, like you said, we would lose you soon anyway."  He slid a folder with various papers in it over the desk.  "We will need to have a formal interview, of course, but we can do that on Friday.  As I said, the previous person we hired for the role has quit, and we need the position filled quickly."

I take the folder.  "Okay.  Let me, uh, let me just talk to some folks."

"Of course.  I look forward to talking with you again."

He gets up and leaves.  Bob raises a hand for a high five, and respond, though not really a hard slap.  I'm not sure I really say anything to him on the way out before getting on the T.  When I get to Alewife, instead of walking back home, I head to the buses and go up Mass Ave a bit, getting off at the stop closest to The Changeling.  They've moved it in the past couple years.

As I walk in, Moira - the original - squeals.  "Krystle!  What a surprise!"  She quickly cleans off a spot near the end of the bar.  "What can I get you?"

"Uh...  Heh.  A bourbon, I guess."

She raises her eyebrows, since I don't drink a lot, especially while I'm still wearing a t-shirt over spandex, but she pours one anyway.  I take a sip and wince.  "So what's wrong."

"Nothing.  It's just... this." I show her the papers.

Her eyes go wide and she shrieks a little, getting looks from the customers, and even getting Ashlyn to walk in from out of the back and see what's going on.  "Oh, hey, Krystle.  Coming crawling back?"

We both know she's joking, but Moira's accent triples in strength.  "She is not!"  She shoves my papers in Ashlyn's face and I mumble something about how that's kind of private.

She looks it over and beams.  "Oh, man, congratualtions.  You are going to love NOLA.  It's amazing!"

Moira looked up at her.  "When have you ever been there?"

Ashlyn's been at this so long that she doesn't even get rattled when someone sees something inconsistent with her being girl who grew up in Providence and has seldom been west of Manhattan.  "Hey, I was a real party girl in college, and where's a better place to party?"

I interrupt before Moira has more questions.  "I haven't accepted yet.  Heck, I could still blow the interview!"

"Come on, be reasonable.  There have to be plenty of people closer to the area they could go to if you weren't a lock."  She came around the bar and sat on the stool next to mine, putting her hand on top of mine.  "Besides, it would be really good for you.  Sometimes we really need a new start.  A place that's ours and not, you know, just where life put you."

Moira chimed in, not aware of the context, but talking about how leaving Ireland was like that for her.  We spent the next hour or so talking, and then I got back on the bus because Momma Kamen was looking after Little Moira and had a night shift.  She looked a little concerned when she smelled alcohol on my breath - it was probably some warning flag with Krystle in the before-me times - but I said I was fine and put another stick of gum in my mouth.  I spent the evening playing with my daughter, watched Frozen again, and then stayed up, plugging the New Orleans location's address into Google Maps and then looking at what apartments cost to rent in that area.

Momma Kamen saw what I was doing when she got in.  "Something I should know about?"

I told her the whole thing, and she got kind of quiet before smiling.  "Well, I've always wanted to visit New Orleans, and visiting my granddaughter sounds like as good an excuse as any."

I think it was this that unlocked something that I couldn't identify that had been feeling more strongly all day.  "Does everybody want me gone?"

She chuckled and hugged me.  "Oh, Kryssy, no.  But I've been in your shoes - a baby, no man to rely on, barely a high school diploma, feeling like I was a burden on my momma - and I want so much more for you and Karla.  There were days I didn't think it would happen, especially when you were getting into so much trouble, but look at you - you've grown so much, and I'm so proud of you.  You deserve this opportunity."

Her being proud of me always felt strange and made me feel more guilty - I've taken her daughter's life and now she's a white teenager - so it didn't hit as she expected.  "But what about Moira, and her friends?"

"Honey, she's five.  She'll be mad at you for a few weeks, and then she'll make a lot of new friends, and if you stay down there, she'll never remember anyone from here but her cousins.  Do you remember anybody from Roxbury?"

No, I didn't.  I had no idea that the Kamens had lived anywhere but this Cambridge apartment block.  But I didn't exactly remember a lot of people from when I was five, either.  Heck, I'd lost touch with most of the other people who were at the Inn with me.

I still had a hard time sleeping, though, so when I woke up early, I went out to the fire escape and made a video call to my real parents, who would already be up and getting ready for work.  They were obviously worried that it was some sort of an emergency, and they weren't nearly as enthusiastic when I laid everything out.

Mom was especially not-quite-happy.  "Just when I thought I couldn't lose my son more, that we were getting closer."

"It's not like that, I just - I mean, I'm a Black single parent in an expensive city where I never know when I'm going to run into someone who had a problem with Krystle ten years ago and holds a grudge, and a clean slate kind of sounds nice.  Not totally clean, just..."

I didn't have an end to that sentence, but Dad nodded.  "I understand.  We moved a few times back when we were younger, too.  Every one does, and their parents all have a hard time with it."

We chatted a little more - Mom expressed worries about Moira and Dad tried to give me practical advice for moving - and then they had to leave for work.  I had to get Moira ready for pre-K and then run some errands.

On that Friday, I showed up to work two hours early, in my interview uniform, hair straightened, worrying about whether I look like I'm trying to lean too hard on my looks while still wanting to show I care about how I present myself (men who have never been women have no idea how much this bounces around your head), but I handle it professionally.  I get the offer.  I say yes.

I'm going to New Orleans.

-Jonah/Krystle

Jonah/Krystle: Not officially my first date, buuuuuut...

I've gone out on dates before.  Not really between my high school girlfriends and the man I met at church this summer (before Krystle blew that up), though I guess you could count the time I got knocked up and the time I met Joseph on the day he got out of jail, but to say that one of us wasn't really into it both times is selling those days short.  But last Tuesday felt different.  It was the first time in three years I've gone out with someone just because I liked them and wanted to get closer without some sort of ulterior motive.  I mean, yeah, I'm kind of looking to see if Calvin is husband material, probably more than most girls would be, but I guess it's less of an immediate priority.  Ashlyn and Moira have convinced me (for now) that is okay to just have a boyfriend.  Or, I guess, find one.

But, anyway, all those other times going out as Krystle never really felt like they were about me really enjoying myself.  They were about trying to make someone else happy - even the one Krystle crashed was kind of about making a sales pitch, like we could get along and be useful to each other, and my daughter needs a stepfather.  They were about being good instead of being happy, and though I think it's really important to be good, more so than being happy, I know you can be both.  Heck, I know I can be happy like this, if only because of Little Moira.

I'm still a little uncertain an hour before, standing in front of my bedroom mirror in my bra and panties, asking my 21-month-old daughter what I should put on.  She has no idea.

It probably doesn't help that I've shed a lot of Krystle's "date" outfits over the past couple years, either not seeing them as essential in a move or giving them away to Jordan as costumes because I'm not ever going to need them.  Or maybe it does; I'm not trying to make a night out a night in.  So I decide on sneakers right away, after I've squeezed myself into a pair of jeans.  They're pretty tight on my butt, but don't split when I lift a knee to my chest (don't ask how I learned to do that!), so I figure I'm probably okay.

Then I look at my chest in the mirror and say "what am I going to do with you?"  A couple years ago the answer was always "put on something baggy and hope people think I'm fat", but I'm kind of looking at my breasts different these days.  I used to think of them just in terms of how Krystle used to show them for money and how showing them off reflected on a girl in general, and I did try and change the way I was dressing back when I stopped nursing Moira, but it felt kind of silly - like, the instant they weren't useful, they're something to be ashamed of again?  Like, I know God doesn't want us to be prideful or lustful, but sometimes it's nice to wear something where raising your arm doesn't tug at your chest.  Which is something like half of what I was thinking when I put on a camisole that showed off a fair amount of cleavage; with a fair chunk of "guys like boobs" taking up the rest.  I also threw on a zip-up hoodie, unzipped to start the night, but ready for when the temperature dropped.

Then I headed to the North End; it's where he works and there's a lot of good food there.  We found a place that still had some tables outside and got a fancy-ish pizza.  He did a pretty good job of keeping eye contact, and an even better job of acting like my stories about waiting tables and how Moira has started copying my tendency to do free-throws into the garbage can are as interesting as Bobby Orr visiting the office.

Afterward, I kind of worked out part off why that paying attention meant so much to me.  It's not that I've had a lifetime of guys not listening because I'm a girl (although waiting tables does let me get caught up), but because he's a cool older guy who thinks I'm worth listening to.  Sure, I've had some life experiences since I was last in high school, but in some ways I kind of still think of myself as being a teenager because my family wouldn't let me forget it and a lot of people treat me like a screw-up, making me feel immature.  Anyway, I often still feel like a kid, and when an adult like Calvin feels like you've got something to offer, it doesn't matter if he thinks you're the same age, it makes you feel good (not that he's really robbing the cradle where 19-year-old me is concerned).

Still, he was generally cool, noticing that I kept glancing at the TV in a nearby bar every once in a while to see how the Celtics' season opener was going, and we eventually scrapped the plan to see a movie and just hung out watching the game with a couple of beers.

Which maybe made me a little chattier than might be wise about certain parts of my life story on the way back to the subway as he made a comment about my really liking basketball.

"Yeah, I used to play, back in high school.  Wasn't bad, but then all this happened..."  I had my arms crossed and used them to push my boobs up just a bit.  "...and suddenly running wasn't so much fun anymore."

"Well, you're still in pretty great shape anyway."

"My friend Jordan got me into yoga while I was pregnant, cause she was never into running.  It's worked out okay for us, but it's not the same."

A quick smile fled across his face.  "What?"

"Sorry, I just thought of a really fun idea for a second date."

"A second..."  I stopped in the middle of the road, not realizing there was a guy on a bike coming straight at me.  Calvin grabbed my hand and pulled me out of the way, and for a moment I looked down at my hand in his, kind of shocked... and then squeezed.  We continued walking that way, not really talking any more, until we got to the station.

"I know I'm picking up on this late, but I find it hard to believe you're surprised by a second date."

"Even before Moira, it had been a while, and it was different.  I've, well, I've never really gone out with anyone like you.  This is, like, a really new experience for me.  But a good one!  I--"

We were waiting for the Green Line by then, and a bunch of people getting out of a bar or something started crowding us, and though I wouldn't have fallen into the tracks, he caught me as I was shoved, the hand that wasn't holding mine resting on my butt and pulling me in closer.  We laughed, embarrassed, and he let go, but then when we got on the car, we were pushed together again.  I looked up at his face, he down at mine, our lips touched...

... and then the conductor hit the brakes and our heads named together.  He made a joke about maybe saving that for solid ground, and I agreed, although inside I kind of wished that we didn't need actual brakes being put on.

It was only a couple stops to Park Street where I changed to the Red Line and he didn't, so I stepped off, said goodbye, and walked off not quite in a daze.  I zipped up my sweatshirt as soon as I saw someone looking at me too hard, and gave the night some thought as I rode to the end of the line, then let myself into the apartment.  I wasn't sure, but I think that was the first time I really enjoyed being a woman, and as I got undressed I gave myself a good look in the mirror.  It still didn't seem right for me to see Krystle there, it felt a little less wrong.

-Jonah/Krystle