Cal: It happens.

I'm still a little speechless. Part of me didn't think it was going to happen. I'm back. We're back. Well, those of us who made it to the Inn, anyway. I'm having a hard time writing this because I don't want to rub it in or anything but... it happened. It really happened. Part of me thought I'd get screwed out of it at the last minute. Was convinced.

Later that day of my last post, she arrived toting a large bag. Gorgeous, tall, thin, blonde, wearing a wispy yellow sundress and flat sandals. Part of me was already back in Cal mode, afraid to approach her, even though I've been talking to girls, sometimes incredibly attractive ones, as one of their own for a year. I'm just getting ready for her to pass without noticing me when she looks over and smiles.

"Don't tell me... Angie? Cal? Right?"

And then I realize I know this girl. I had to search my mind for a minute and stammer like a fool, but I remember. She was at the Inn at the same time as us. She can tell I'm struggling, so she reminds me: Her real name is Mike, and he's in the body of his sister Lila.

"Right!" my eyes go wide, "Oh my GOD, I can't believe I forgot about you, how have you been?"

"Ups and downs, my friend," she says with a warm charm that gives me the sense she's working to hide some of those lows. "It took me forever to get a flight out here, but I'm glad I didn't miss the show."

"The show?" I say "Oh right. The... um. Yeah."

"I kind of had a... financial shortfall this year," she said as she led me to her room, "And I was really worrying that I wasn't going to make it back. Lila, in my body, was all set, and I wanted to get here to give it back to her. Then a while back I got a call from your friend Sophie. I can't believe she's just leaving her old body like that."

"To you?"

"Yes," she smiled, beautifully, "I'm going to be Grant. If this all goes as planned."

It did, that night in fact. I was too excited to sleep so I felt it all happen, because... well, I'm NEVER coming back here again. The experience of changing your skin, from soft, plush female to slightly rougher, coarse male skin, feeling millions of tiny hairs growing out of you while the hair on top of your head somehow just... vanishes? I felt myself getting heavier and heavier and dizzy as I grew. I laid down, and by the time I sat back up again, I had a nice flat chest and a set of equipment limply dangling between my legs.

I laughed. I cried. I kind of wanted to throw up.

The next hours - days, even - were a blur. Trish, Roy, Derek and I all rushed to meet each other. "You?" "Yeah, you too?" "Good, yes!" We didn't get Mike, but eventually found out that he had gotten Grant's body just as he'd planned. Meanwhile, there were a few new transformees with us, and I didn't want to leave them in the lurch, including the person who became James. I regret I wasn't able to answer all their questions... I feel like I got so wrapped up in actually living as Angie that I didn't ask while I was caught up in it, but in my defense who would I have asked? I only have my own observations, and the kinda spotty records in this blog.

It's been a whirlwind, from excitedly standing to pee for the first time in a year, to dressing in a t-shirt and shorts and walking the beach like an invisible, well, man, not being eyed by every beach bum out there.

It's going to take a while, I think, to really adjust back... I wish it was as simple as just dusting off the old body and sliding back into my real life and forgetting the past year ever happened to me, but it did, and I... I don't really know what to do with it for now. So I'm going to leave it at that. For now I'm... on my way home.

Finally.

Cal/Angie: Facepalm! (Among other things.)

I mentioned to Trish today that the last time we stayed here it didn't take so long to transform us. The whole thing was starting to bug me. Then she mentioned that she remembered reading that it seemed like the "power" of the Inn was only unleashed when all the vacancies were filled: that's 13 beds.

We have 12. Specifically, all of us and one extra room that was supposed to go to James. But he can't come because he can't fly yet after his appendectomy.

And our reservations are almost up.

Um, PROBLEM.

What if we don't get a 13th? Will it just change some random passerby while we're all asleep? Will it shake up the order of who goes where? I don't wanna be Derek or Trish or Roy! What if it just doesn't work in the time we have paid to be here, and we have to go home unchanged, and I have to keep being Angie? What happens to my body? Does it go to the next person to stay in the room - the real Angie? That just tangles things up further. I'm really stressing out.

There's only one thing I can do to get my mind off it. See, every morning since we got here, I've checked the most obvious regions of my body to see if it was still Angie's. This has had the odd side-effect of re-awakening certain urges that I lost after my debacle with David.

And I got those urges back hard.

It's like, there's nothing else to do, and I'm not going to be a woman much longer, why not just spend as much time as possible totally wrapped up in myself? If the life I'm going back to is anything like I left it, it could be a long time before I see a real live naked girl (sadly.) For the time being, these are still my curves, my flesh, my parts... I don't think I need to convince you.

Maybe I went a little too hot and heavy, going for hours on end to start the day, probably reaching volumes loud enough for the whole beach to hear, but there's really nothing else to do here but wait and, well, playing with ourselves.

And then something happened to make it weird. He popped into my head.

I was so angry but I couldn't stop flashing back to the way he used to touch me, the way I liked it - it's really my only significant experience with another person in this body, so it's a very strong image. And I couldn't bring myself to stop, and by the time I finished, I was practically crying because of all the bad feelings wrapped up in my memories of him...

And then I just laid there and thought about it. How am I so wrapped up in this guy? A year ago, I didn't ever like guys that way. A few months ago I told myself it was just because it was easier. Now I'm more confused than ever about who I am and what I like. Can I go back to liking girls as easily as I switched to guys? When I'm Callum again - if that happens - am I going to sit around moping heartbroken over him again? Will I find it easy to just go back to being "the guy" in a relationship, knowing I was the woman, the one who got played and heartbroken, the one who was, ever so briefly, hungry for c--k?

I'm embarrassed and ashamed and I hate myself. I want this to end now.

A well-meaning commenter mentioned it would be nice if we could trick David into coming to the Inn. I suppose that would help our current predicament. And if someone has to transform, it might as well be someone I loathe. Maybe I could show him all the pain he's caused. Maybe he'd wind up as a girl and get the same experience I had all year. Truth is, that's just wishful thinking and I doubt I would wish this experience on my worst enemy... at its worst, it's unbearable, and yet at its best it's shockingly great, so how is that satisfying? I dunno.

I just hope it ends soon.

Cal/Angie: Another round

What is it about a girl alone at a bar that makes her irresistible to guys?

Don't answer that, I know what I look like. Not gorgeous or anything, but attainable, and certainly (shudder) "doable" by the end of the night. I sit on the barstool with nobody around, no forcefield to put the guys off, because Trish is running late.

Maybe my time in Canada really did something to me because it made me too dang polite to tell these guys to fuck off. You really get the sense of how rude Americans naturally are to each other when you spend a year among people who apologize every time they breathe on each other. That's something I didn't mention much about Canada, I guess because it became so normal. All these things about sweet, hippie-infused Van City that just became part of my day-to-day life.

Makes me wonder why those girls flew all the way across the country for their vacation a year ago.

So, since I can't seem to shoo them away right off the bat, I let them in. I size them up. I don't like what I see.

The first guy tells me right off the bat what kind of car he drives. He can't tell from looking at me - rocking the flower-child skirt and braids that, in character as Angie, I'm not all that materialistic. It's funny how that's become true. I tell him I'm going to the bathroom and don't return for twenty minutes.

The second guy asks me about Canada. I tell him Vancouver's nicer than Boston, and he says but Boston's got the Pats, and I say I don't care about the Pats. He takes this as his cue to drone on and on because he loves educating women about sports. Barf.

Eventually he asks what I do and I tell him I used to work in a holistic supply store, and I start telling him everything I've learned about naturopathy - most of which I don't believe, myself, but Angie does. He makes like he's interested for a while, then finds someone else to bother.

Third guy doesn't even get a chance when Trish finally shows up. By now I'm drunk and I talk her into pretending she's my boyfriend. The key is, as Robbie she's very tall. Guys don't want to mess with her.

We grab a table, Derek and Roy join us. We drink a toast to our absent friends, and muse about how if we're lucky, this might be the last night any of us has to wear the wrong face out in public. We ask Roy how his last month of married life was, and he grunts "Hell on wheels, kids. Do you know what I had to go through to make sure Christine's deadbeat husband didn't join us on this trip?"

"Maybe you should have let him," I chuckle, "If he's as bad as you say, it might do him some good."

"Funny," he says, "But you can't go messing with peoples' lives. Christine wants to come back to him and I'm not gonna stand in their way, even if I don't understand. The sex was adequate, though. I think I blew his mind."

"Just his mind?" Trish said. I high fived her.

Being a guy has been good for her, I think. She seems oddly comfortable as "one of the guys" both biologically and socially. I look at her and I see a pal. And yeah, I've made it clear that at times I'd like more but I'm lucky to have her as a friend, and I hope going back doesn't change that.

I think out loud, "Wish I could have brought David... stuffed him in some weird body, like a grandma or a porn star and said hey, how do you like it?"

Trish pats my back and says I don't mean that, and I admit I don't, but... I just wish I could have gotten some measure of revenge. I hate the way I left things for Angie.

 We stumble home and I flop down in bed... in the morning, I'll probably feel it, since Angie's body doesn't seem to handle hangovers well. I'm going to be 19 soon. I'm going to miss being able to drink legally.

Cal/Angie: Objective Incomplete

I should be happy. I should be carefree. I'm here, I'm back in Maine just waiting for my number to get called. If all goes according to plan (fingers crossed) I'll be back in my regular boring old life in a few days and won't have to deal with periods, long hair, or boys ever again in my life.

It was a nail biter to get here, saving every spare penny from my job, which became especially important after David and I broke up and I quit. It was the sensible act... "Angie" is guaranteed not to be back for weeks, maybe a month, and I feel like the bridge is totally burned anyway. They all hate me/her, even though I did nothing wrong. Aside from the girls here in Maine, I feel like I've torched Angie's social life.

Maine itself is... different this time. The air feels different on my skin than I remember. The Inn is slightly more spooky-feeling. Maybe it's because I know what goes on here. I got this intense nausea, like vertigo, when I was walking up to the front door.

"It'll be over soon," Trish said to me.

I smiled back. "Or maybe it'll just be a new adventure."

Trish chuckled a bit. "Just make sure you're in the right room and you'll be fine."

I can't help but think about the others, though. I can't believe Grant - not his name anymore, I guess - delayed his return so that he could specifically avoid getting his old body back. I guess I just don't relate. Maybe he does feel more like a woman, but I just... I'm the type of person who wants everything to go back neat and tidy. He, or she, will be back in a few weeks to turn Sophie's body back to her.

And then there's James.

I don't even know the whole story, but something happened a few nights before our flight and he was too sick to come. I don't know if he's going to make it. And if he doesn't, I don't know what happens after that. Does he stay as Keisha? Does he roll the dice?

I feel bad. We may not have been good friends before all this... and hell, we weren't even that close during the whole experience, since I had my falling out with Derek, but I think he deserves to get his chance, same as me. I really hope things turn out okay for him.

Cal/Angie: SOON.

The past month has been a nightmare. Worst break-up of my life, if you can call it that (either a break-up or my life.) I've had so many angry phone calls to David to get him to take those videos off the internet, and he goes on about his rights and his feelings and blah blah blah, total bullshit. He's impossible. On the other hand, I've had more than a few irate communications from the real Angie, who was pretty understanding about me using David to blow off some steam, but is appalled I let him take video of me, even though I made it clear I never consented to those videos. I feel like I've failed her, even though I'm a victim here as well.

For me, all that goes away in less than two weeks. I'm headed to Maine on SATURDAY, and I could not be more excited. This nightmare - even if something fucks up, this particular nightmare is over and I can finally be where I belong. I hope. And if not, I'll make do but at least it won't be here.

And once that's looked after, I intend to have at least one more serious talk with Trish, who has been an amazing friend this entire time.

Cal/Angie: Mood killer

Trish and I came this close... and I let someone else ruin it for me.

I had let it slip to a female co-worker that I had a date with a guy. She had known that I'd had a fling with David, but I always thought of it as a "renew as necessary" scenario. Booty calls. No formal dates. Nothing deep and really nothing formal. I've never done that before, and it was fun until it wasn't. David wasn't in the running for boyfriendhood... basically ever, because of my limited time as a woman and because my secret would always be between us.

As we get closer and closer to the return date, I couldn't help but slowly come out of it, thinking of myself more and more as a man in a woman's body, not an ex-man. It started to feel weirder and weirder about letting a guy into my bed (among other things). I got less and less enthusiastic about his calls, and as I started to grow closer to Trish, I guess I kind of... let him drop.

Well, he didn't take it well. When he found out from this mutual acquaintance that I was into someone else, he flipped. Sent me a dozen or so enraged texts. I didn't pay much attention to them. Maybe I should have.

Somewhere along the way, he had gotten a video of me, while we were... together. Fucking left his phone on camera mode while he screwed me. I don't even know how he did it without me noticing but he did. He had a few videos of me, in a very, um... intimate way.

He uploaded them to one of those fucking "cheating ex" sites even though what I did was not cheating. The co-worker let me know. When I found out, I was mad. When I saw them I wanted to die.

There I am - not me, obviously, but the face I wear... giving into desire, an act that took me all the courage in the world to do, letting myself be free and enjoy my sexuality, as fluid as it is, and he managed to take something that should be pleasant and personal and make it disgusting and embarrassing. I'm revolted, as a woman and a man, at him and at myself. I regret ever letting him into my life.

So I'm really mixed up right now, and obviously Trish understood. I just don't want to be anyone, let alone with anyone, until I get back to my own body and hopefully can put this shit behind me.

But I feel so terrible, because as embarrassing as it is to think of myself doing that, and as unequivocally evil as David is for putting those videos online, the real victim is Angie. She trusted me with her body the same way I trusted David with it, and we both betrayed her. Those videos are online for good now, for any scumbag to look up and jerk off to. I hope she can forgive me.

Cal/Angie: "Plans"

I can't tell right now whether I'm bad at being a girl, bad at relationships in general, or if it's totally not my fault. I guess it's past time for caring.

The clock is ticking, with less than a month before I get on a plane, fly back to my home country and hopefully back to my body or at least out of this one. Why should it matter what happens to me as Angie? I knew this thing with Dave wasn't going to last.

Problems between me and David started cropping up when I piped up about a few of my complains about his, um, sex-making style. "Hey man, would you mind taking it slow for a change? Take care of some things for me?"

Instead of agreeing this might be a nice idea, he just grunted, rolled his eyes and started to unload a bunch of his complaints about me. I could dress sexier, be flirtier at work, go down on him more enthusiastically (which is a major case of glass houses for him) let him put it in my butt (um NO.) This led to a huge fight, and in the middle of the fight I basically stopped us to say "Wait, why the fuck are we fighting? We're not even really dating."

He said I started it. Then I said I was gonna finish it and told him to get out. This was Friday night.

I was bitter all day Saturday, which only made things worse on Sunday... see, with all my personal drama lately I haven't given much thought to actually living Angie's life, which meant showing up for the Mother's Day celebration with her four siblings. Apparently the others were annoyed I had removed myself from the planning, and the entire day was as pleasurable as going to the dentist. It was the absolute last place I wanted to be, an all-day event with a woman I barely know, pretending to gush over what a great mom she is. It was hard, reminded me that I'm not at home in my own body, and I wanted to bail very badly.

My shit mood followed me home, and I considered contacting David to make nice. But when my finger was hovering over his profile image in my contacts, I was shaking with rage so badly I just kept scrolling until I hit "Robbie."

I don't know what I was thinking, exactly, I just didn't want to be alone. So very tactfully, I asked if he wanted to hang out, with "No funny business, promise." He texted back sure, and within twenty minutes was at my door.

We ended up walking around the city and I unloaded to him about how glad I would be to stop being Angie and how angry I was that I let myself get so worked up over a guy. Over a guy! Shit! Sometimes, the thought of what I let him do to me, and what I let myself do to him, makes my skin crawl. And sometimes I just want more of it.

The talk was helpful and quickly became drinks. And it was just nice to be with a guy who wasn't waiting to pounce on me, laughing and hanging out.

"I just think I'm not a guy's guy..." I muttered as we headed up to my apartment, "I like that I could be in a girl's body and suddenly dudes that didn't wanna be friends with Cal wanted to talk to Angie, and I like it. Is that sick?"

"Not at all," he said back, also pretty intoxicated. "It's like a power trip sometimes, these bodies... these disguises. They empower us. I feel like I could do anything."

"But you don't!" I said, "That's what I like about you. And you know why you don't? Because with great power..."

"Comes great responsibility," he finished. "I know, I saw that movie. It's not easy, though. Being around you girls... it's been crazy not to try anything."

"So why don't you?" I asked.

"Because it's an illusion," he said. "Soon it's just going to... go back."

"But it's not an illusion," I said... running my hand up and down his arm. I saw his waist flinch as his little buddy stood straight up. "This is real. I'm real. And we don't have a lot of time left."

"You're drunk."

"Not that drunk," I said. And I leaned up on my tiptoes and kissed him. And he kissed back.

We stood there in the hallway kissing a while. I felt his hands running over my body, hungrily. He wanted it. I could tell for a long time that he did and now I was finally getting him to admit it. I was already starting to get wet. Being with someone who knows you that way, someone who's been where I've been... that's so much more exciting than what I had been doing with David.

Once we came up for air, I said "We could go inside."

He took a big sigh. "I'll talk to you tomorrow. We'll figure this out."

I don't regret anything about that. In my first/normal/male life I never went after anything I wanted. Right now I have a chance and if I don't succeed, well... at this point I've seen some stuff and that will definitely tide me over.

Now, of course, I just keep checking my phone.

Cal/Angie: Sex ruins everything

We're getting very close to the end of the line here. Our return trip to the Inn is the weekend of June 14. So just over a month before I get to be me again. You'd think I'd be excited. I'm terrified.

I don't really know what I'm going back to. The new me assured me things are a-okay, that he deferred my enrollment until fall 2014, worked, built up a lot of funds, some credit... kept things "under control." Somehow this is scary to me. I don't know the details. If there was some disaster to report, I could feel safe knowing that my panic was justified. It can't be that easy.

By comparison... I look at what I'm leaving. A good body, a good life... one that I've almost made too good. I am just getting good at Angie's job at the holistic store. I am very friendly with my roommates - we eat dinner together almost every night. I've gotten a sneak-peek at life after school, and it's fun. Not very successful, but fun and free.

Then there's David. I can't even think about it without getting a stress headache. What have I done. That was my biggest fuck-up of being Angie, hooking up with David. For so many reasons.

I feel like it's inevitable that I'm going to leave a mess for Angie to clean up when she gets back. David was a friend of hers, and I used him for my own... pleasure? Curiosity? I'm not sure it makes a difference to him. The problem is, I took their relationship to this level, and I don't think you can just go back.

I feel grossed out by myself whenever we do it, not because I like it (I'm over that, mostly,) but because I'm not asking for more from him. Quality time. Dates. Companionship. I've realized that he's not someone that I would date, even among all men, if I'm into that (more on this later) that while he's an okay (at best) sex partner, outside the bedroom, he's just too much of a stoner hippie to be compatible with me. He always seems to be in a bit of a druggy haze.

Not that I'm miss goody two shoes myself. I smoke now, weed at least. I like it. It makes me feel so at peace, which believe me, I need for this situation. We share a joint before screwing, and it helps his, erm... staying power. And it makes me all tingly and relaxed.

But there's a difference between smoking at the end of a day, and smoking as soon as you get out of bed. It makes him really dull company. You could even say that I smoke partly because I need to get down to his level before I can let him do anything, but the truth is I could never get to his level.

Ugh, complain, complain, complain... I feel like such an asshole. This situation is really my making. If I never let him touch me in the first place, I wouldn't be having this conversation. But what was I supposed to do? After a certain point, sex became all I could think about. I lie awake in bed at night fondling my tits and wishing someone, anyone else, were there, male or female. I didn't know girls could get like that, but then again, I guess I'm only partly a girl.

Well, the part that counts.

I have to end it. I have to, because it's not fair if I leave it for Angie to resolve. But with the routine I've gotten into, I feel like I'm going to leave it for the last possible moment.

Life was easier when I wasn't getting laid, didn't want to get laid, couldn't get laid. Sex has ruined me. If I stayed female more than another month I worry what I'd end up turning into.

Cal/Angie: Could be better, could be worse

This is probably not going to shock anyone, but I think I like sex.

Obviously, as a man I liked it. I always wanted to have more for it. I was desperate, in fact. I jacked off probably more than I should. And when I finally started to let myself open up to that side of my lie as Angie, I wasn't THAT surprised that it was fun. By myself, anyway. That way, I was in control. I could go on for hours and hours, uninterrupted, if I planned my day out correctly. It would start at work, just lightly teasing myself when nobody was around. By the time I was on the bus home, I was squirming in my seat. Disgusting, I know... looking around at all the strangers made me feel good, like I had a little secret. Well, I've got lots of secrets, obviously.

Then I'd get home and the fun would begin. It got to the point where I didn't even care if the roommates were around. I would bolt straight to my room and get straight to business, having had up to three hours (!!!) of foreplay with myself. It was like a damn oil slick down there sometimes.

I experimented. How to touch, where, what, if anything, to put in... and when. I started to get to know this body really, really well. Except I didn't know it. I was just playing around.

Then I started having sex with David, and I was sorry to say it wasn't as glorious as I hoped. He always leaves me wanting more, and I didn't have any way to tell him what exactly I wanted, because, well, I feel almost ashamed to speak for myself. Some of it's not in his control, like, I know a guy can't hold back his come any more than you can hold back a sneeze, I just wish we held off on that portion of the night longer. I should really just man up and tell him to go down on me until I tell him to stop, not until he feels like he's done. Well, I also wish the intercourse itself lasted longer. One time, we did it, and it was over in a few minutes, and we lay there for a while until he was ready to go, and the second time lasted a lot longer, but his heart didn't seem to be in it. It was pretty gentle.

That's the other weird thing. I think I'm starting to feel like I prefer the hard stuff? He's a man, I want him to use all his muscles and size, and leverage and just... fuck me, you know? Hard, and slow, and... oh God, is it getting how in here.

Sorry. I didn't expect to think about sex this much as a woman. I went from barely thinking about it at all to having this, like, awakening at the end of the "year" I've spent here. It makes me sad that I waited so long, but at the same time I know I wasn't ready. I still don't know if I was.

Mixed feelings, I'm saying. Positive ones are in there with the negative ones. We've got a date tomorrow night. Hopefully I'll be able to lay it out for him in a way that doesn't hurt his feelings.

James/Keisha: Itching to leave

As much as I'm happy for Cal, scratching that itch, I am just about ready to get back to normal.

I was talking about it over coffee with Trish/Robbie. We've gotten into the habit of having these brother/sister chats. I'm kind of the centerpiece of the group, since I live with and am best friends with Derek, work with Roy, and am technically siblings with Trish. I don't talk to Cal much anymore, but Trish does, so I hear about him that way. I mean her. Shit, funny after all these months I still do that. Ah well I'll leave it there.

So yeah, Trish had some thoughts about Cal dating that guy, and he was just going on and on (oh I did it right that time!) about how rude it was to make that kind of move in someone else's body, especially so close to the end, and yadda yadda... and so finally I just said "You're just mad because you regret shooting her down."

He denies it, but I think there's something to it. I think he feels guilty seeing as how Cal is such a nice chick - and let's face it, a cutie - and Trish, usually pretty accustomed to getting attention, is sitting around deliberately cockblocking himself.

"You could've just done it, just to do it, and now you lost your opportunity. You're officially a dude."

"That's so simplistic," he snapped back, "If it was gonna be anyone... I mean, it's just not safe to date anyone out side the group."

"You said it wasn't a good idea to date anyone inside the group, either."

"It's not, but it's better. If I'd known... she was just gonna go ahead and do it anyway..."

"Wow, you're a hypocrite," I laughed.

"I totally stand by my decision," Trish said, "It's just that that led to Cal making a worse one. He's a sweet guy, girl, whatever... he isn't going to be able to handle this."

"And you, what, would have let him down easy when you got back to your regular body?"

"At least with me everyone involved would know the score."

"Hey," I said, "If you just wanna get laid, Derek told me he'd give you a try."

"Ew," he said, "Derek said that about me?"

"Like you haven't thought it? Look at those tits. Girl's a goddess. A screamer, too. A real moaner."

Trish looked embarrassed, "You can hear her through the walls?"

"I don't have to, I'm usually in there with her."

He nearly spat his coffee out, "Don't look so embarrassed, we're two dudes trapped in the body of hot chicks with nothing else to do. Didn't think we'd get around to it out sooner or later?"

"I thought you said you liked guys in Keisha's body," he said.

"You're such a loser sometimes," I laughed, "You never heard of experimenting?"

"Well now I really don't want to go out with Derek. OR do anything else. Or even look at her."

"Hey, I offered," I said. "Not my fault you missed out on Cal."

"I didn't miss out on anything," Trish said, "She said she doesn't even like it that much."

"With David," I said, "But I bet you have some info he doesn't."

"Oh, I could rock Cal's world. Or Derek's. Or anybody's."

"How about mine?"

"James!" he said in shock, "You're my sister, remember?"

"Oh, yeah, I forgot," I said, laughing, "Oh my God, could you imagine? That shit would be hilarious. Like some Game of Thrones shit, right? Fuckin' right."

Cal/Angie: Making it happen

I've gotten really used to the feeling of playing with myself and more and more the idea of taking on a... playmate... became a huge part of my fantasies. Why not, right? He likes me, I kinda like him. It's... just sex, right? I started hinting to David that I was maybe willing to do more with him and things between us changed. He started making a lot more comments about my looks, saying he was thinking about me... I couldn't tell if he was just trying to flatter me to seal the deal or if he was excited at the idea of seeing me naked or what. Just, the flirting got to a new level and I didn't know what to make of it.I tried to play along but having someone just falling head over heels for me was really... off-putting.

So we got to the big night, this past Saturday. Not that we planned it out, but I knew that unless something really horrible happened that night was the night. And sure enough it went like a lot of our dates went... started with some drinks and Netflix, then rapidly became making out. I started getting really hot... his hand on my leg was a welcome feeling. I rubbed my hands up and down his back (not a ton of options, really) and followed my body's instincts to thrust my pelvis against his, just kind of grinding. I could feel his hardness under his pants.

I decided the smartest, most direct way to signify him that I was ready to take it up a notch would be to grab it. Now, I've never grabbed somebody else's, so I just kind of cupped the outside and lightly ran my hand up his zipper. The outcome was the desired one.

Before I knew it, my pants were around my ankles, and he lowered his head into my crotch. I didn't expect this... I heard fro ma lot of people that guys like to skip this but I was glad he didn't. His lips and tongue danced around the right areas. I felt my face getting flushed, my legs trembling in the air. I couldn't help letting out a pleasure moan that sounded like "Eyyyooohhhh-eeeeeeiiiiiiiaaaaaaaahhhhhooooooohhhhhh! Hehhhnnnn hiiiiiinnnnhhhhh!" I could feel myself getting really warmed up.

Then all of a sudden he decided he was done, and it was my turn to try him. Um okay, I guess it would have been rude at this point to say "no thanks" but I wasn't quite ready to get off the ride. Still, I figured we could come back to me in a few minutes. This is what I signed on for, basically.

So before I knew it, there's this, well, considerably sized erect penis staring me in the face.

And before I could say to him "Um, I've never done this before," I closed my eyes, opened my mouth and faced the music. I was too far in to turn back.

Slowly I got used to the idea that there was a part of another human being in my mouth... trying hard not to think about the things that part does. It was stiff, which means he likes me. Well, he can't exactly control it, but I still took it as a compliment.

And then he started saying stuff. Like "Uh, yeah, you like that, don't you? Yeah. Take it. You love it. You love the taste."

And I really, truly didn't, and I didn't care for him saying stuff like that. It really took me out of the moment.

Then he ended up coming in my mouth without warning me. All of a sudden I felt it go off in my mouth and I nearly choked. And he fucking laughed it off and told me to lie next to him until he was ready to go again... and I was just thinking how I wasn't done going the first time.

When we finally got back to it a half hour later, he put it in pretty quickly and started pumping it... and there were pleasurable parts of it, but really by then I was just waiting for it all to be done with because it was clear he had no idea what he was doing. Like he knew something... it was clear he had a routine, but as far as actually taking care of my needs, he fell pretty flat. Parts of it felt good, for a moment or tow, but mostly it was just a hard, bumpy ride that actually kind of hurt at times as he pushed as far into me as he could go then jerked out suddenly.

I was kind of cold about it afterwards, just waiting for it to be done because it was clear I wasn't going to finish. After he finally finished and pulled out I wondered what the hell just happened to me. I felt used, like a prop to satisfy him, without any real feeling or meaning. I felt sick with myself, disappointed in a guy that I liked, and ashamed that I let that happen to Angie's body.

I waited a length of time - how long I don't know, maybe five minutes, maybe twenty but it felt long - before finally sitting up and pulling my panties on.

As I headed for the door, he barely acknowledged me, except to mumble, "I'll text."

Yeah... we'll see if I answer.

When I got home, I just laid down in my own bed and laughed myself to sleep. "Ugh... men."

And sure enough, when he texted me, five minutes ago while I was writing this all up, to ask "Hey what's up?" I texted back "Nothing, you?"

Guess I feel like I need to give him a second chance. Ugh... me.

Cal/Angie: Wait... what?

I found out a while ago that I'm not the only girl David sees. He admitted it to me while we were hanging out and said that he likes me but he's not into commitment "right now." I had a hard time processing this because as far as I'm concerned one guy dates one girl and that's it...

"Are you having sex with these other girls?" I asked.

"No, I only fuck one girl at a time. We make out though."

It burned me inside to think that he was spending time with other girls, but given how touch-and-go I am about the whole situation, could I really convince him I deserve all his attention?

Despite my uncertainty about the relationship's progress... or whether we're even having a relationship... I still feel bad if I don't see him very often, if I don't check in. So obviously I'm at least a little into him, which is scary. I wish I could cut out the part of me that likes hanging out with him, that likes his big hands on my body. And I hope you're right, Anon, I hope it gets left behind when I go back to being Cal.

So I was calling him up to make plans for Friday and I got his voicemail, and I was going to hang up and just text him but I decided to just blurt out a bunch of stuff like "Hey, sorry I'm flaky, I don't really know how to do this dating thing and I wanna thank you for being patient with me... I have a lot of stuff to work out and I don't really know what this is but I'm having fun and I want to see you Friday if you're free. Okay, my voice is probably sounding really annoying now, god it's so nasal and gross. Pretend I didn't say anything. Just, um, let me know."

And then I went to go hyperventilate in my room for a few minutes, until my phone buzzed.

"Hey," he texted, "Just got your message. It made me laugh. I love the sound of your voice, don't be embarrassed about it. :)"

My jaw dropped. I got that pained feeling in my stomach.

This was, like, the first time anyone said they loved anything about me. And sure, this voice isn't mine by birth, but it just means he likes, you know, my whole self, right? It's code.

My knees got weak. I laid down on the bed. I felt myself getting wet. Trembling, I started to rub myself...

Oh God. How could this be happening just from a text?

I'm in way over my head here.

This... is happening...?

Cal/Angie: Preparations, stress and uncertainty

Maybe I'm just an anti-social person, but I wasn't really prepared for the amount of work that goes into being someone's girlfriend. After hanging out together for one night I'm usually satisfied and don't feel the need to see him much for the rest of the week. I think he's been taking this as me not being interested, and maybe that's true... I like him, but I think there's a limit to that. I'm just not willing to let myself get super close to him, because I know he'll only get hurt in the end.

I'm going back to the Inn in June. That's official. It has been for a while, but I thought I would clarify for those of you reading who never heard the news. Roy/Christine took care of all the arrangements, working with her counterpart and helping me corral all of the current occupants of our bodies for the correct arrangements. Knock on wood, everything should be lined up properly. Knowing that, it feels strange that I would even let David into my life.

But I know you understand and are encouraging... he likes me, and I like that he likes me. I think he expects things from me, and while part of me wants to see what it's like to give that, to be with someone that way, I wonder what the point of it is if I'm getting my body in. It's a "once in a lifetime" opportunity, but I'm not sure I feel comfortable, and it feels like a lose-lose situation. If I do it and I don't like it, I might hate myself (and maybe never look a woman in the eye again!) If I do it and I do like it, then how do I go back to being a man? How do I live with myself knowing what I know?

I guess that's going to be a problem anyway. I've kissed David. I've played with myself and enjoyed it. I also enjoyed having a dick of my own. Every argument against doing this feels flimsy. But the coolness between me and David makes me feel so awkward, like I shouldn't bother.

Cal/Angie: The eggs are broken

So I might as well tell you this since it's been ages since I posted and maybe you're wondering... I've started dating my co-worker David.

Considering the last post on here is Trish/Robbie telling you about me confessing my feelings for him, you might be confused... well, obviously nobody's more confused than me. For the record, Robbie had my consent to post that, and while the whole thing stung I believe in openness. It's a fair record of what we were going through and he was right.

But that doesn't make me any less lonely.

Like... what is this? What is my life? I get up, I go to work, I don't talk to anyone but co-workers and customers, I keep myself busy, I come home and I just... flop down. I had no life when I was at home in Mass, and if I came all this way just to have no life, I don't think I could take it. I was crying on a near daily basis even before the thing with me and Robbie.

I've known David was interested in me for a long time, and at first it scared me, and worried me, but he was kind enough not to be creepy about it, and indirectly that gave me time to get used to the idea. And I thought it would be smarter to try to date Robbie, because not only do I like him as a person, but we share a secret and, I don't know, I feel closer. I'll always feel that connection, even to the Lowell folks that I've kind of fallen out with.

But I gave it time with David, and he still seemed to like me. So after a few more weeks of constant emotional breakdown I decided the only thing I could try to do was ask him if he wanted to go out on a date.

I know, Robbie was right about it not being smart to date anyone like this, but I couldn't really fight the feelings I was having... not necessarily for David, but for the world, and about myself. I need this, okay?

So we started slow, I started spending time over at his place, and we'd have drinks and do a joint or whatever you call smoking weed. It really relaxes me, and we talk for a while and then... as soon as I feel like it we start touching and he leans in close... and I don't back away. It started with a peck on his lips. It was just the weirdest thing. Here's this guy who isn't that big, I guess but sitting next to him I feel tiny and vulnerable, and he could do whatever he wants, and I'm scared for my life and have no idea what's going to happen next. And he's got these thin, dry lips, and a big of a beard so it scratches against my skin. That shocked me. Not that it happened, just that... I was letting it.

Then as soon as I decided I was okay with that I went in for another one, and we were off and running. I don't know, it's just nice to have someone giving you that kind of attention. Pressing you where you need to be pressed, running their hands up your spine and thigh. I could feel him nervously making his moves, hesitating slightly, seeing where he should move his hands...

Then he found the clasp of my bra, and that was just too much, but I didn't have the words to tell him to stop. And I figured, hey, I didn't think I would like kissing him, why not just let him have this?

In the end it didn't really get comfortable at that level, but thankfully it didn't go any further. When we finally broke off,I was just totally stunned into silence. I haven't kissed anyone like that in a long time, let alone a guy. I flashed through my entire head over the story of how it came to that... months of getting steadily more confused about who I am and what I want, finding myself stumbling over my words or letting my eyes linger on on guys in general, trying to figure out what I really see. Getting that feeling deep inside, like my midsection is pulling my lungs down and my knees getting a little woozy, just because, I don't know, the light hits someone the right way, and admitting what it all adds up to.

We talked it out, and I said I didn't know what it all meant, and I'm really not in a place where I can be counted on to be anyone's girlfriend... but I liked him and I was trying to figure out what it meant. He said that was cool, "obviously," and would do or be whatever I needed, and that was so scarily exactly what I needed to hear that I'm a little afraid he was just saying what I wanted to hear to win points, which... has me really turned around. Again.

I'm still not sure if I feel okay about it, about liking it and letting it happen again, and I really really don't know if it's okay that I'm letting him believe I'm something I'm not, but... well, the egg is broken.

Trish/Robbie: That awkward moment...

I've been hanging out with Cal a little bit since December. I felt a little sorry for her, the way James and Derek cut her out of the "group" after the burglary incident. Whether Cal was really to blame, the fact that we have to rely on each other means we should be more careful about how we treat each other. We've met up for coffee a few times, and she even convinced me I might enjoy the Lego movie, so we went to see that tonight. I thought it was really funny!

Afterwards, we stopped off for a drink. Cal's not the biggest drinker, but I guess she's been trying plenty of new things since we got to Van City. As out first drinks arrived, I told her how much I had liked her last post, that it was nice to see her in a cheerier mood. She said she was really starting to enjoy pushing herself, and to look at "our" situation... not long ago, we barely knew each other, had none of the same friends, and now we're pretty close. This is true. It's not that I would have had anything against Cal back in Lowell, but we just didn't run with the same groups. We didn't relate. Now we're a bit more mature, and we have something in common. Something really serious, and known only to a few.

"So I mean..." she said quietly, folding and re-folding her paper napkin, "If we get, I mean when we get back, are we still going to be friends?"

"Of course," I said. "You're a really nice person."

"That's good," she said, "I was so worried that if we went back, then everything would just... revert. I'd wake up one morning and we'd be strangers again."

"Cal," I smiled, "Trust me, I won't be forgetting what we're going through."

"You should call me Angie, probably," she said.

"Right."

"Do you ever think about what we'd do if we were stuck, though?"

"I try not to."

"So you're looking forward to being a girl again?"

"Definitely!" I said.

"Why?" she asked, "I mean, I've been both, and I really would prefer to be a guy. No offense."

"None taken," I laughed, "It has its advantages. But I mean... it's not just about having a body, it's about having a home. Being with people you care about. I miss my family, I miss my dog, I miss Lowell... I had plans for my life, and they didn't really include this. If we had to stay, I'd make the best of it, I guess, but I'll be happier when we go back."

She agreed that was a good way to look at things. After a little longer, she finally worked up, I guess, the nerve to say what had been on her mind.

"Listen, Robbie, I just want to say I think you're such a great person... male or female, I really enjoy spending time with you."

I squirmed a little. I could see where this was going, but I wanted to let her get it out.

"I really like you, Robbie. Trish. Whatever happens, whatever we look like, you're someone that I would just... really like to spend time with. I think we should... like, date."

My heart sunk. I've been in this situation a few times before, where one side has feelings the other person just can't return, and I hoped that in these mixed-up bodies we could escape that. But I guess hormones have a strange way of working on a person. As much as Cal is a very nice person, I just didn't see her that way.


"I understand," she sighed. "It's too complicated anyway. I don't even know who I am anymore, you know? And plus, it's probably wrong to do that sort of thing in these bodies."

"Yeah," I said, just trying to make sure I didn't say anything to further disrupt the situation. "We're really not in a position to start anything."

The conversation continued a little further, but she was clearly sullen. I dropped her off at home and told her I'd text her later.

What can I do? Just be sorry, but it's really not my fault. I value her friendship, I don't want to lose it.

Cal/Angie: I could...

When I look myself in the mirror, I see a pretty girl.

Not a knockout. Not a bombshell. Not someone who's done up really pretty with makeup and all. nobody's fantasy, not even mine. But a pretty girl. I understand why guys look twice when they see me walking down the street, especially on days when I feel confident. And I won't lie, catching a glimpse of their head turning when I pass makes me walk that much taller. Like I have something they want. I know I do. And little by little I'm starting to realize what that means. A thin girl with a nice round face and pretty eyes, a little button nose and maybe a cute smile... I've tried to practice it in the mirror, but it always feels fake. But I've seen a few pictures of myself, particularly from New Year's Eve. It was like looking atanother girl, and I liked what I saw.

It's a quiet night. Chilly. The roommates have taken off, as per usual, and I'm on my own. I could flop down on the couch and channel surf, but part of me still feels like a guest here after a month, so I hole up in my room. I climb under my blankets and start to read, but something keeps distracting me. It's hard to say what, it's just that my thoughts wander.

I'm thirsty. I saw a bottle of gin on the counter. I've never tried it before. I'm sure they won't notice if I taste a little nip of it. I pour some 7up in a glass and try to add a splash of gin, but ... glub, I get a little extra. Well, there's no getting it back in the bottle. I hope I do like it.

I crawl back into bed, but the place seems to be warming up. It's cozy under the blankets, so I take off my sweater and slip into some PJs. Sip after sip the drink is growing on me, until I've had enough that it doesn't really make a difference how it tastes. I start to read again, and after a while I start top realize I'm running my hand up and down my breast. I wonder if I ever do this in public.

My mind starts to wander again. What's the difference, I think... between being alone with a girl and being alone as a girl? If I was a guy, I would think nothing of playing with myself. Why is this so normal? Why am I not naked all the time?

I take a breath as I start to realize exactly where this night is going. I slip my top off. The chilly air perks my nipples up. It feels strangely good. I wonder what it's like to have them get kissed. To have someone's hands running up and down my body. I rub my own hands over my skin and pretend they're someone else's.

"Yes..." I say out loud to nobody.

I spread my legs, as if there was someone crawling on top of me. My hand slips down my abdomen and into the waist of my PJs, feeling the fuzzy warmth between my legs. I only have half a second to wonder to myself "What am I doing?" but I already know the answer.

It's not the first time I've tried, but I could not get into it before. I wasn't ready. Now it's all I can think about. Doing this doesn't mean anything... it doesn't say anything about who I am or what I like, it's just this body. It's just my following this body's impulses. And I can tell it's reacting to something. I just want to see where it goes.

I must spend 20 minutes just lying there, massaging myself, writhing in joy, wondering if the pleasure is going to subside the way it did when I was a guy. But instead it grows. I spend a lot of time figuring out which parts feel good to touch, and which don't, and how to... I guess go between them. Just working up the nerve to get my fingers in there feels like a victory. I get this boost... It's like this tornado that keeps picking up momentum.

And then this thought pops into my head and I can't shake it... don't even want to. This person. I see them there, and I think "What if they were with me... right now..." and I keep going further and further...

It's all I can do to pause, even for a moment, just long enough to reach under the bed. It's there. I know it's there, because I put it there. I kept it there like a safety valve in case it ever got to this point. I even washed it. This big, long, pink, tube-shaped... device. Rounded, not "realistic." I don't think I could have handled looking at that, although I guess for my purposes tonight it doesn't make a difference.

I close my eyes and I see a face.And I tell myself, imagining this person's voice, "It's okay." Slowly, slowly I breach the inside, and... I feel it. In there. And for half a second I'm scared, but then it starts to move. And every part of me moves with it. I'm on my back, my knees are in the air.

By the end, I can hardly breathe. Is this it? Is this what it's like? What it would be like? What it's going to be like? I start to move it faster and faster, and I stop paying attention to how loud I'm being.

Outside, I hear the jangling of keys. The door opens. Two sets of footprints, the voices of my roommate and her boyfriend. They pop something in the microwave. I start getting really upset but I can't stop so I just... keep going as long as I can until...

Oh.

Oh...

OH.

OH!

And then I just laid there thinking about how I spent the whole night basically doing that... maybe not the whole night, but a lot longer than I used to. And I was just left with this lingering feeling of goodness. I was still thinking about it the next day... worrying about the person I imagined myself with, worrying about what would happen if they knew. Trying not to feel so guilty abut the pleasure. Making plans to do it again...

Cal/Angie: New year, new... friends

I'm trying to spend less time feeling sorry for myself. I think that might be the reason I don't post a lot lately is because I can't resist the urge just to think "I suck." Like I suck as a human being, a man and a woman simultaneously. I was feeling really bad for the holidays, until New Years.

So basically, the fallout from this burglary thing is that it's kind of cut me off from the others. I still text with Trish/Robbie some, and she's been very insistent that she's not taking sides in this, but the three of them (Keisha, Mona and Robbie, aka James, Derek and Trish) spent new years together and it's just too awkward for me to even consider trying to go back with them. I thought about seeing if Grant/Sophie had anything going on (I'm sure it was wild) or maybe if Roy/Christine wasn't doing anything too coupley... but no, I decided I was just going to stay home, have one drink, and go to bed early.

Then around 7 I got a text from my coworker David. A bunch of people from Angie's circle of friends, the friends I've basically been neglecting, were having a thing and I had to come. I resisted, but he just wouldn't take no for an answer and wore me down. I didn't even pretty myself up or anything, I just threw on some tights and a top and went over to his place expecting to basically suck the fun out of the party with my presence.

The opposite happened. The whole thing really lifted me up... they all made it really clear that for better or worse they are my friends - or Angie's anyway, and whatever I'm going through I can count on them.

And if I doubted they were serious... they took up a collection and bought a bunch of replacement stuff that got stolen, including the same model of laptop that Derek lost. Like... holy shit. I nearly bawled. Half of these people I don't even really know. But for a night I forgot that I'm not Angie, and I took all their love for my own.

After a few drinks, they started passing a joint around... and I was resistant at first, but I saw all these people basically being smart, functioning people, not insane stoner cliches (well some of them were) or messed-up druggies, just really smart, individualistic people, and if they can handle it, why couldn't I?

I didn't feel it too much, but it made me really want to touch people. Like, it made me feel really secure if I just... wrapped my arms around someone. I spent half the night sitting on the couch with my arms around a girl named Jen. And In my head, it's like "If I was a guy, I'd have such a boner right now... I can feel her breathing." But it was such a reminder that I'm not a guy... not that it wasn't nice, but there was no real lady-boner that I could tell.

Then Jen disappeared, and David took her place, and... well, it got a little complicated. He was very comfortable with his arms around me, and I felt so nice and compact in his arms, and I realized that he really likes me, or Angie, and... I mean, between him and Jen, it was almost the same. Almost. But I would give the edge a bit more to David, and I thought "I could kiss him. Right now. Just move my face a little closer..."

No harm in that. The others have all talked about how they have, or would, and I don't want to be a dumb prude anymore.

But I didn't. And the feeling wore off. And now it's super awkward, I just can't stop thinking about what if he made a move, what if I made a move... was it just for the night, or could I go back to it? Should we talk about it?

Do I want that? Is it smart for me to try? No, right? It's only a few weeks until I make a reservation to the Inn. I don't need to go complicating things at all.

But this issue isn't going to go away... sleepless nights and weird dreams about a handsome guy with a beard make that pretty clear.

Keisha/James: Christmas and a bunch of other stuff

So I guess the last time I posted was right before my date with AJ.

I dunno what happened. I mean, I know what went on... we went out for drinks, it was kinda dumb, and at the end of the night he got a kiss and then I wasn't sure if I ever wanted to see him again. I just don't know what happened. I mean, I've seen this guy's penis, thanks to his very enthusiastic texting. And the part of me that's a chick could totally dseal with it, so I was ready. My idea going in was that I was gonna let this guy have it if he wanted it, and then I dunno... he didn't make much of a move and I was really okay with that.

It's weird. When I see guys now, I get this feeling... and it's not totally like when I would see hot girls when I was a guy. It's just this, like... warmth, and I don't mean downstairs, but inside. And then they start talking, and they're boring and dumb, and I'm just like "Dude, just be cool enough so that I can bring myself to nude up with you." But I think he blew it. It's hard to even say when. He just didn't do it for me.

So I ask myself, why do I bother? Because I'm bored of not being out there. That was how I lived, and it's how I still want to live. And I don't see myself getting into the girl-on-girl scene, so I tried to get okay with this real quick. I came this close and then something just totally deflated me. It's like... wanting to have sex with someone, and not wanting to have sex with them at the same time.

So I'm still on the lookout. Meanwhile, Derek and I are handling this apartment-switch thing, because they aren't seeing eye to eye over there after the robbery and Derek and I get along better anyway. Angie can have fun with my roommate, neat-freak Lindsay and her stupid boyfriend. She blew it.

She thinks it was some kinda conspiracy... maybe, but we can't figure it out. We figure it was probably the stolen keys, because there was no broken window or forced entry or anything, but we can't really get our heads around who is behind this or why. And I don't care. I'm just gonna watch my back from now on.

Then there was Christmas, which was a huge crazy thing. I avoided helping Keisha's mom cook anything, mainly babysitting and talking to some of the distant relatives. I mainly got gift cards for clothing stores because I want to choose more of my own clothes, because Keisha's wardrobe is frumpy as hell. I drank a whole bunch, which became a problem when I was helping Keisha's grandma get into the car, and we slipped on some ice... and I broke her fall. And that basically broke my wrist. Ow, fuck.

Trish/Robbie was there, and he offered to help, but I guess I thought hey, it's a one-man job, I can do it. I should've asked. But fuck it. I don't like feeling so weak. It was one moment.

All that's left now is to make some plans for new years. I was thinking of just doing a Lowell Crew thing, but things the way they are it could be awkward to get Derek and Cal together, plus I still kinda want to meet people. Maybe Sophie can hook me up.

Cal/Angie: Not what I needed a week before Christmas!!!

Thursday night both me and Derek were working late shifts. This isn't that unusual, in fact I kind of prefer it because by the time we both get home we're both too tired to snipe at each other and we just kinda peacefully coexist. That's good because I kind of needed my "home" such as it is to be a sanctuary now that I just don't feel like I gel with the people I'm working with and it's becoming more and more frustrating. I thought working with a bunch of easygoing hippie types would be no problems, but it turns out they can tell when you're not really one of them and... I dunno they judge me. Or I feel like they do.

So Thursday night, I was ready to come home and just flop down when I walk through the door and... the place has been ransacked. Like, okay, Derek and I aren't the two neatest guys-slash-chicks in the world, but shit was everywhere and I realized soon that someone had broken in and gone through our stuff. Dumped out drawers, stolen things out of our rooms... I had my computer with me at work, luckily, but Derek left Mona's laptop out in the open so that's gone. I wasn't even able to totally figure out what all they got, because I don't know everything in the apartment. A lot of jewelry, clothes, appliances, the TV, DVD player, DVDs... the gifts I was going to give my friends and family... all sorts of random items from around the apartment that I had no real understanding of.

As soon as I realized what happened I just stomped through the apartment screaming. It was the worst I've felt since waking up this way. Maybe even worse... that was a shock but it didn't all come to me at once. This was just immediate anxiety and fear and panic. I screamed myself hoarse and the neighbors came to see what happened and I was hysterical with tears when I explained that we got robbed... I couldn't even call the cops, I couldn't pull myself together. When the cops showed up they seemed mad at me for not being able to explain myself. Or maybe that was just my interpretation.

I was too embarrassed to call Angie and tell her. When Derek got home she said she'd figure out a way to explain it, but she was pissed at me.

She reminded me that I left our apartment keys in Maine. Even though they got sent back quickly, that was plenty of time of them to be copied.

Which means... one of the people in our bodies is a thief?

Like... how could they even get all the way to Vancouver from Boston, find the time when neither of us was home, get into our apartment and out with all that stuff?

Who are these people?

I've had the locks changed, but I still don't feel safe here. I can't exactly move, but James and I have talked about switching apartments at least for a little while. She hates her roommate and gets along better with Derek (who, again, fucking hates me now) so maybe it's for the best.

Here's the most upsetting part... they took my guy clothes.

I kept a few articles of clothing from my Cal wardrobe. It doesn't fit great, but girls wear their old boyfriends' clothes all the time, right? A pair of boxers, some shorts, a t-shirt. I slept in it sometimes, or wear it on laundry day. It made me feel connected to who I really am... and they fucking took them. Out of the laundry hamper.

I ask again... who are these people?

I'm so fucking scared right now.

Cal / Angie: Outsider

I hope you don't expect me to start telling any stories like James. He can have all the fun he wants. I'm not in the mood. I work and work and work some more, and when I get home, I just shut myself up in my room and stay quiet, lie still, sometimes cry. I still find it all so frustrating.

Not the being a girl thing. I don't love it, but I can live with it. I hate that I can live with it, at least parts of it, but it's the whole package. The add-ons. Being Angie.

If I could, I'd quit her job. I hate it, and I'm not good at it, and I think people notice. My co-worker Dave definitely thinks it's odd that I've lost my knack for talking up the new holistic products, my "enthusiasm for life." Like somebody ripped my spirit out. And I can't tell him that it's because somebody literally did just that. I don't believe in this hippie stuff, I believe more in science and actual medicine. It's one thing to sell someone a dreamcatcher because they think it's cool-looking. It's something else when they say they totally feel it focussing their consciousness when they sleep.

But can I really make a decision like that? Part of me thinks it's smarter to gut it out for 6 more months, even though I'm pulling my hair out. Finding a job isn't impossible, and if I do it right I can quit on good terms and keep the door open for Angie to get her job back when she returns. And despite the hippies being supposedly chill, I can see their eyes drift downward to my chest. But I guess I'd get that anywhere. The good news is that their focus returns to my face when they realize there isn't anything special there. Not nothing, just nothing on display. I just realized over the last few months that as a guy, I totally had that reflex, but as a girl not so much.

I do sometimes check girls out. Not necessarily the way I used to when I was a guy (boobs-face-boobs,) but I watch girls, look at their face, watch their eyes as they shop with their boyfriends, watch their hips sway when we're playing folk music or whatever. I get a little angry. I see the boyfriends glancing around at other girls and I get angrier, especially if it's at me. I feel like I'm completely outside the boy-girl dynamic now. And it's so lonely here.

David asked me out. I turned him down, obviously... I was so embarrassed and even hurt that he didn't just want to be my friend, because I guess guys and girls can't be friends like that. I know I didn't have any "just friends" girls, and that's another fact I'm embarrassed about. I tried to be nice about it, but now there's that
awkwardness. I don't want to be around him. He's so nice, but now everything's changed, wrecked. Every time I see him I see the guy who probably had fantasies about me, and he probably sees me as the bitch who turned him down. He seems less interested in me now, just short of being outright mean to me, but it's still immature. I should probably just get out of all this.