Todd: There's no road that ain't a hard road to travel alone...

Rock and roll is tough.

It turns out it's not very easy to book a rock and roll tour. Especially when you're the support and the headlining band gets sick and has to postpone when you're already out on the road. We spent a lot of August just waiting around in Toronto for stuff to happen.

Then, well, stuff happened.

We finished our Ohio swing in Mid-September. Now, Bryan's been my friend for years and years, but there's a difference between friend-Bryan and band-Bryan. When we're just jamming, gigging around our local haunts, there isn't really. Bry's a fun guy, doesn't worry to much when things go wrong, enjoys the fun things about being in a band, no worries. Tour Bryan? That's tough shit. I'm used to it, I've seen that side of him before. It's funny: He was so laid back and relaxed about becoming a teenage girl back in the day (we'll get to that in a bit) but stick him in a van and put him on the road fora month? Shit gets crazy.

Sometime after Ohio -- Cleveland in particular -- he and Shelby broke up. I was always a bit leery about having his girlfriend in the band, but at the time I thought they could handle it. They couldn't. Objectively, I think they're both to blame, with Shelby not being able to separate bandmate-Bryan from boyfriend-Bryan, and Bryan not recognizing how to keep things from getting to heavy.

I suspect, however, something happened in Cleveland, which was right before the big fallout. Cleveland is roughly in the neighbourhood of Bry's former girlfriend, Crystal, but if that had anything to do with it, he didn't tell me. It's too much of a coincidence to ignore, but there would be plenty fuel to that break-up without thinking about Crystal. But I can't shake the feeling there's more to this than meets the eye.

Then at some point we got the word from Max -- who had some contact with Alia (who is along for this Magical Misery Tour as our road manager, bless her.) -- about her new body. The very same body Bryan occupied only a couple of years ago. Again, we come back to not ignoring coincidences. I mean, it's strange, isn't it? If it was Fletcher's doing, how did he get Ellie to Maine? If not, what does that mean? I'm not detective, I wasn't even that much of a journalist, but I intend to do a little poking around while I'm down here.

This coming weekend, we'll be finishing up in Pennsylvania and NJ, stopping in on Tori and seeing how she's doing, and then all next week we'll be doing some gigs in New York City. We'll be spending a lot of time down there and as luck has it, the only contact info we could find for Ellie puts her new body there.

After that, it's New England: Connecticut, Vermont and Massachusetts before we circle back over the border and head for home. That should take us through October. It's kind of exciting to live this double life as a rock star and sort of a wannabe private eye.

So that's what I've been up to.

-Todd

Bryan: Whatever happened to the teenage dream?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Bryan: Good Times, Bad Times

I haven't posted here since way before Todd and I got our bodies back. I used it as sort of an outlet when I was stressed out being Ellie and when I got my own body back the last thing I felt like I needed was a shoulder to whine on. No disrespect to Todd, because everything that happened with Alia, and the Erica LaFleur situation, he had a lot on his mind. So despite living under the same roof, he and I kind of drifted apart for a year.

Maybe it was the Crystal situation. I don't know how you guys feel about the way he told it... reading his old posts, I feel like I mainly got a fair shake. It's not like I always wanted to nail Alia, and having Crystal in her body enabled me to do that. I had literally never thought about it until Crystal showed up and we just sorta connected.

I'll spare you the details of how it happened. It started out as me just keeping an eye on her, and eventually it occurred to us that we might make a nice couple, and realistically I was probably the only person she could date without everyone going insane (her, Todd, and probably real Alia.)

It was probably the healthiest relationship of my life. She cooked and cleaned and I tried not to seem like a kid she was taking care of, but like, a partner. She made me want to be better. We both had steady jobs. It was a real damn adult relationship. But as Todd said, we both knew the detail: it was temporary.

I couldn't bloody well convince her to stay in Alia's body. I told her I wouldn't mind meeting the real her, but she was adamant that that not happen. I kept asking her why, but she wouldn't clarify for me. I pushed the issue a bit more, and we fought a bit toward the end, but I always made amends because the last thing I wanted to do was lose Alia's body along with Crystal. When she left, we were still on good terms, but the relationship was over.

It's been hard, though, being around Alia, especially when she's with Todd. A couple times, I've accidentally called her "Crys," and then felt like an asshole, even though she assures me it's an innocent mistake. The weird thing is, partway through my relationship with Crystal, she insisted I call her "Alia," just so that I didn't slip in public. I didn't want to go along with it, but Todd and I had the same understanding when he was Aunt Anne Marie.

My one salvation is the band. We don't have a name yet, but Todd and I have been rehearsing a lot lately. We don't have a drummer, since most of our drummer friends have scattered, some already in bands, some giving up music or moving away. That doesn't stop he and I from jamming on Zeppelin ("Good Times, Bad Times,") Metric ("Gimme Sympathy,") Third Eye Blind ("Semi-Charmed Life") and Hollerado ("Americanarama,") as well as a few originals we've been workshopping.

So anyway, here's what's happened. With Todd and Alia getting back together, the social circle has sort of firmed a rift, and on one side is the happy couple, and on the other is me and Shelby, Todd's co-worker, who was hanging out with us a lot before and after Alia got back. Eventually, she and I just started hanging out on our own, since getting the four of us together would probably just be too awkward. In fact it was a little awkward just to get a cup of coffee with this random 19-year-old so soon after my break-up with Crystal, but she's actually quite cool. We were out by Queen's Park the other day, having some coffee, when I started talking about Crystal in veiled terms. I actually used her real name, to differentiate her from the situation she thinks I'm going through with Alia and Todd.

See... I have her number. Well, a number. I have some contact info for Crystal, acquired when we were first looking into her background and I found out she was from Cleveland Heights, not Shaker Heights. She doesn't know I have it. She'd probably be pretty pissed if I used it. But I keep it on a card by my desk and I look at it often, wondering if I should call. I told Shelby this. Her advice:

"The past is the past, man. You've got to move forward. If it isn't meant to be, don't worry. There are plenty more women out there." I gave her a look, and she hastily added, "Not me, though. I have a boyfriend." Oh.

But the last thing I found out is... she drums. Oh, chick drummers.

Seriously, though, I asked if I could hear her sometime, and if maybe she'd consider joining up with me and Todd. She said she'd think about it, since she's been meaning to get a regular thing going with someone. Why not us, eh? Maybe if we have a drummer, we'll get gigs, and things will start being awesome. I have yet to tell Todd about this development.

-Bryan

Todd: Getting the band back together

Alia arrived back in the city earlier tonight. Bryan and I met her at Union Station, after taking a more or less direct route from Maine to Montreal to Toronto that took, I would guess, 12 hours of straight travel. We hauled her bags back to our place, as she asked we put her up for the night after her trip, and I can see why she wouldn't want to be alone (her apartment is essentially an attic.)

I didn't know what to make of this. I mean, I know what I hoped would happen. She'd see me, fall into my arms, we'd have a big tearful reunion and cement our long-delayed reconciliation by humping. On the flipside, I considered it equally likely that we'd solidify this thing by staying up all night talking out our issues in a way-past-due moment of catharsis for the both of us. This would also be acceptable, but also less fun.

This did not happen. When we saw her at the station, she was bleary-eyed and sleep-deprived. She looked like she thought she was hallucinating when she saw us. She did wrap her arms around me and just stayed quiet the whole way home, like a trauma victim. I wondered whether this was the same verbose woman I'd known all these years, the one who'd spent practically her whole stay in Maine blogging. Briefly, I entertained the notion that Alia was an impostor, so I asked her, quickly, to say something only the real Alia would say. In response, she reminded me of the time I convinced her to have sex in the ladies' room at her parents' anniversary party.

It was my statement on matrimony, at the time.

When we got back home, she flopped down on the couch and zonked out. And there she lies fast asleep. I mean, I don't want to force the issue, but it's feeling slightly anticlimactic. No big dramatic reveals, no stunning confessions, no passionate copulation. Just "I'm tired, mind if I crash?"

I've just been sitting here at the kitchen table watching her, thinking about how she inhabits the same space a different woman recently did -- same face, same voice, same clothes -- but with an entirely different aura about her. I spent a long time adjusting to the idea of Crystal in Alia's body, and now I have to switch back... I can only imagine what it was like for her realizing the Todd she'd known for a year was a faker. I haven't brought it up even in our online conversations. Well, I've mentioned it, but I don't push the issue. If she ever wants to delve into it, that's her choice.

In the weeks since Crystal left, Bry's been picking up his guitar more and more. I've hardly seen him so much as tinker with it -- I mean, he's barely even played Rock Band -- since we got back to Toronto last year. Could be maybe residual bitterness from his American musician ex-lesbian girlfriend, or maybe something about Crystal or just not having the energy for it. But lately I've been hearing it through my walls a lot more. And last week, he caught me in the living room to play me something he'd written recently. And it was good.

"Look," he says to me, "I know it hasn't always worked out in the past, but I was thinking about getting a band together. You, me... whoever else. It won't be like the past, we won't take it too seriously, we'll just gig around and have some fun, then get on with our lives other than that. Just to do something, you know?"

I told him I'd think about it. Now that Alia's back, I'm feeling more into it. Maybe to get back in touch with the last time of my life where things made sense. Bry and I played music, Alia and I dated, I was still in school... none of us had ever been anyone else. Maybe you can't go back, and there was enough craziness back then that I wouldn't totally want to... but there's something to be said for trying to recapture a special time in your life.

I want to do it. I can't let it interfere with my school this fall, but I could use the release. I don't know if things can be the same as they were 3 years ago, but I know they can't stay like this.

I think I'll get some sleep. Later, all
-Todd

Todd: Gone Daddy Gone

So, she's gone.

Crystal, that is. Bryan saw her off last weekend. He seemed to be in denial the whole time leading up to her departure, but after she left, he got very sullen and withdrew into his private world. He's been resisting all attempts at consolation.

I've never seen Bry as into a woman as he's been into Crystal. I would've thought them a very cute couple if it weren't for the fact that my blood got hot everytime I saw them together, knowing whose skin she was wearing. I feel like I can trust her, and yet you never know how these things turn out until they do, so I harnessed a bit of hostility, but I at least feel sympathy for Bryan in this sorry state. This isn't about Alia, certainly not for him anyway.

Me, I've been using my co-worker Shelby as my angst dumping grounds. Alia thinks I'm just paranoid, and I can't bring myself to raise my issues with Bryan because he can always one-up me with the whole "How do you think I feel" angle. I mean, at least I'm getting Alia back, and we can figure out our business from there.

Of course, when I explained it to Shelby, I had to morph some of the details somewhat to fit the, uh, narrative as she understands it. The way she understands it, it's a simple case of Alia and I breaking up and Bryan getting with her while I remain a lonely outsider in their relationship. So in this version of the story, Bryan is pretty clearly a villain, which is a shame because I really don't blame him for what happened. The only one to blame is those impossible-to-understand forces of fate that brought us to this point. For her part, she thinks the story makes me seem a bit more like a pushover than she believes me to be, and I can't fault her there. Why would I stay friends with a guy who pulled such a trick? But as you know, that's not the case.

So I just keep going in circles while Bry sulks and Alia is still off being a dude for the time being. As for Crystal?

Well as far as I know, she's getting her old body back. As we have seen this is not always the case, whether you intend it or not, and I don't think Bryan is heartless enough to have schemed to get her someone else's body. So we'll see. It's entirely possible she gets her own body back and resumes her fling with Bryan... whatever issues and baggage her real appearance carries probably isn't so tough next to the shit we've been dealing with for the last two years.

Anyway, that's what's up with me and the others. There's also one other thing: Shelby convinced me to go back to school. I was one year away from my degree when I dropped out, and I've been complaining a lot about being ground down by work and life, Shelby basically sat me down and said "Why don't you just take control of something in your life? It's not to late to change."

Something about my 19-year-old co-worker calling me out really hit home, so I registered for my last remaining classes and will attempt to get some motion in my life. Who knows, maybe someday we'll even put this craziness behind us.

-Todd

PS Before anyone asks, I don't know anything more about Greg than any other reader on this blog, and I'm just as curious as the rest of you.

Todd: Babysitter

Cliff's not kidding when he says that when something happens to a fellow Inn-person, you take it on yourself. Nearly a year after being myself -- although I haven't felt a whole lot like myself in that time -- I still have nightmares where I'm forced into going back to the Inn or where I never did. Where I'm still Anne-Marie.

I describe them as nightmares because even at the best of times it was a drag (...no pun intended.) Constantly playing wife and mother was not my idea of a holiday, piling on menstrual cramps, physical weakness, the occasional migraine and breast-tenderness for scenery. There was a time when sex was the most important thing in my life (roughly the years between 2000 and 2008) but having a nice female orgasm every now and again -- really inconsistently -- was just not enough to make me look back fondly on my time as Anne-Marie. And those, kids, I loved 'em, but half the time I had no idea what to do about them. This was particularly obvious when I just didn't know what to say when their grandfather died. I was not cut out for motherhood.

I've kept in contact with Anne-Marie, just a little. We exchange the occasional e-mail but for the most part she's technophobic (being Julia helped this just a little, but still) so her information comes out in dribs and drabs. She's also a fairly private person... which is odd considering I've done stuff with her husband. I'm guessing this stems from a desire to put the entire experience behind her, which I can't say I blame her.

But she does vent, every now and again, because she at least knows she can rely on me for support. So when she notices little Ellie, now at 16, has grown into a bit of a troubled teen, she can't help but blame her time as Kalli. Ellie's showing a rebellious streak that definitely wasn't the case before the change, but in a way, Bryan probably acted anyway. I suggested it was possible the whole "lesbian" thing may have somehow gotten out, leading to some bitterness. For context, I asked whether Ellie was seeing anyone, and Anne-Marie said she didn't know. That year as "roommates" did a lot to damage their once-close relationship.

Somewhere, I suspect Ellie's mother is claiming a victory on that one (if a slightly Pyrrhic one.)

And speaking of teenage daughters, Hayley reacted very negatively to Anne-Marie's return. I know I wasn't that stern of an authority figure, but I didn't realize how lax I'd been until Anne-Marie came back and started laying down the law. I always thought of Hayley as a bright, friendly presence, a genuinely sweet girl, but lately I guess she's just following in her cousin's "bitter teen girl" footsteps.

Anyway. These are problems everyone goes through, and as much guilt as I feel about leaving Anne-Marie and Ellie to resolve their own issues, it's just not part of my world anymore. I've left Connecticut behind. But of course that doesn't mean I can forget Maine.

No, what Greg's predicament really reminded me of -- and forgive me for being self-centered here but I can only say "Sorry to hear that, Greg" a couple times before it loses meaning -- was Alia. And Crystal and Bryan. And how, even though I've read enough of this blog to know better, it just seemed unfathomable that someone would just try to abscond with another person's body. It's the old Inn curse at work again I guess. You don't believe it until it happens to you. That never stopped me from eying Crystal suspiciously, but this really illustrated the distinction between the situations.

Suddenly -- and I never thought I'd get to this point -- I'm actually grateful to Bry for what he's done. As perverse as his entire plan was, it seems to be working. No, I don't generally approve of using sex as a weapon (anymore) and I definitely don't approve of him getting busy with my girlfriend's body, it seems to be going well.

I know this because, as a favour to Sean Flaherty and Erica, I agreed to babysit little Katie last night while they had their first date night since the baby's birth. Feeling a bit squeamish about being left alone with an infant, I reached out to the only person I could find: Crystal.

"I'm glad you called me," she said when she arrived, "I love babies. Did I ever tell you that?"

"Yeah, I think you mentioned it once or twice." It was actually all she could talk about when the subject of Erica's pregnancy would come up.

After a while, we got to talking. "I just always regretted certain aspects of my life," she said, "I put off being a mother in favour of a career, and then my career didn't work out well, and then one day I woke up, I was nearly forty, unmarried, childless..."

"Have you thought about what's going to happen after you go back?" I emphasized these last words, as if to say You are going back, right?

"I... am," she said, drawing that one out a bit too long for my liking, "I really do like Bryan. I might even love him. But if he knew the real me, if he saw what I really looked like, he might not be so... enthusiastic."

I told her that seemed unlikely. Bryan is the only person I know to have gotten a chubby from the six-breasted stripper in Jabba's palace in Return of the Jedi. The man has extremely broad tastes. I did not mention this, however, as that comparison is probably not welcome.

We spoke a bit more about her and Bryan's relationship, but out of respect I won't transcribe, since a lot of it was personal. Not just the sex stuff, but certain, shall we say, insecurities that come from being a woman her age.

After she changed the kid and put her down for a nap, she studied my face, "I still don't see it. This man I am sitting next to was once somebody's wife."

"For a while, yeah," I laughed, "But I'm retired from the wifing business." She listened, in rapt attention while I shared some of my fond memories of Conner and Hayley. She told me about her niece and nephew, whom she hadn't seen in years because they live out west in Wyoming of all places.

"So did you learn anything important about women when you were one?"

"Sure," I smirked, "That it's simultaneously very easy and very difficult to turn down sex." She burst out in laughter -- an eerie mutation of the laugh I'm most used to from Alia. A bit throatier. It made me uncomfortable, on some level. But it was a laugh nonetheless.

"You sound like Bryan! He told me about his whole lesbian thing. Jeez, what is it with you guys? It's all about sex. Never mind being in a different social status, being stared at or objectified or marginalized or forced to wear uncomfortable clothes and make-up just to look good, or being small -- all you want to know is where your next lay comes from!" She smiled and shook her head.

I responded, jokingly, "Oh, yeah? What about you? How long were you in Alia's body before you hooked up with Bry?"

"Okay, that's not fair. We started off just as friends, and we seriously just bonded. It was the most natural..." she hesitated, growing visibly uncomfortable with being so open.

I interrupted, "No, it's okay, I get it. I was just kidding about it."

"No, it's fair. I mean, you've been a woman, it's only fair if I level with you. When I found out what I'd become, it definitely didn't take me long to start feeling sexual again. And then when I saw the two of you..." She paused. "Can I be honest? Don't take this the wrong way, because I'm so happy with Bryan I can't even believe it, but when I first saw the two of you, you were the one I was more interested in."

Say what.

"I don't know. Maybe it was Alia's body pointing me in your direction. Maybe it was the way she described you in her letter, maybe it was your look. I can't explain it, but at first glance, it was you. But you were very quiet, very dark at the time... probably because of Alia, I suppose. You were so closed-off that I never had a chance to get to know you until recently. No offense."

"Yeah, I was pretty bitter at the time," I admitted, "I didn't have much direction in life, I was real confused how this was all going to shake out. It took months before I could start being myself again."

We both pondered, quietly, for a moment. I don't know what she was thinking of, but I was just feeling thankful that my morose outlook had saved me from further complicating things with Alia, and allowed this whole Bryan/Crystal thing to happen.

In an ideal world, none of this would've happened anyway, but here we are.

I learned more about Crystal as a person in that night than I had in all the months she's been here. In a way, it was incredibly eerie talking to her, because I couldn't help but be reminded of all the amazing talks I've had with Alia over the years. But at the same time, it helped me confront some of my own anxieties.

Crystal, I think, is one of the good ones. I trust her. I'm still jittery about things, and you can never tell what's going to happen, but I know she's doing her part, which is enough for me.

-Todd

Todd: Mysteries part 3 -- Nothing's ever done

There are a few reasons I found it easy to be attracted to Ginessa. One, she's hot. I have a thing for exotic-looking women; if you'd ever met Alia, you'd understand. Two, we come from the same world, sort of. We understand a lot about each other on a sort-of intuitive level that is difficult to explain. Inn folk, even when they disagree, have a sort of mutual respect, at least the ones I've met. Lastly, she just seems comfortable being herself, whatever that's supposed to mean. She's very at ease in her skin, not a prim and proper lady, but one who knows how to command a situation if she wants to.

The first time we met, and often in our letters, it felt like Inn stuff was off the table for her, conversationally. In a kind of "methinks the lady protests too much" way, she wanted none of it. Once she got the sense that I was not a judgmental guy, though, I think she eased up on it. I think a lot of it is her defensiveness from being friends with Darren/Jamie, which apparently wasn't always an easy thing to handle ("I can't say too much about her, but she's getting better.")

"I just find it amazing," she told me over beers at my place, "I met you, and you were this woman, and here you are, looking completely different... I have a hard time believing it, but you're so much like I remember. It's more than a little weird."

"Having Bry around sometimes, and the blog, helped me keep track of myself."

"Can I be honest?" she says, "I'm so glad I didn't keep up on the blog. One, I'm not a writer. Two, it feels like I would've just spent the whole time beating myself up over it. Maybe I gave in early, but I'm happy, and I have been for a long time. Well, I'm not always happy, but it has nothing to do with my body."

Eventually, the way conversations go off in tangents, we began to reminisce about the moments we decided to first have sex in a female body. I told her I felt like the Universe was conspiring against me. Hal was getting his vasectomy, Anne-Marie was on my case about it, I was horny as hell. So many different signals seemed to be pointing me in the same direction. She laughed at that one, "Yeah, I know the feeling."

I asked her about her first time. She glossed over the details. I get the sense she doesn't really like talking about it. "It was a mistake. I should have waited. I mean, it was way, way too early. I was not nearly ready for it, and I barely knew the guy." It was not her husband, but it was the only other guy she had sex with. She paused a moment and smirked, "I remember when he whipped out his cock, my eyes popped out of my head, like You want me to do what? And now, heh." 'Nuff said.

We ended up going out for New Year's to a house party at a friend of Bry's and I. I watched from afar as Crystal/Alia was being chatted up by a couple of guys, trying to suppress my overprotective urges. We've had talks, and I should trust her, but I didn't. Something about her just seemed untrustworthy. And all night people kept pointing her out to me and asking if it was awkward to be around her now that "we were done." I told them nothing's ever done.

At the party, I made like Ginny was my date. She was more of a life preserver. There was a very, very attractive girl who seemed interested in me. I told her I was taken and she said it could just be our little secret. Cue Ginny, playing like she was my woman, a jealous type ready to choke a bitch getting too close to me. Bry sat morosely in the corner, and spent a lot more time talking to Crystal/Alia than I did.

At midnight, I kissed Ginny, a polite, lips-sealed grade-school type kiss. Then she got drunk and developed the amusing habit of slapping asses. Also at the party were Erica LaFleur and Sean Flaherty, but Sean has made it clear he doesn't want anything to do with me. Eric was polite enough to acknowledge me at the snack table, which is the least she could do since I impregnated her and all.

Ginny and I left early. The next morning, though, she was waiting for me in the kitchen while Bry was still conked out.

"What's up?" I asked.

With the uncertainty of a woman with a minor hangover and some bad news to tell, she said, "Listen, Todd, I wouldn't be a very good friend if I didn't tell you this, but you know how you were saying Bry had a girlfriend he wasn't introducing you to?"

"Yeah." Two posts ago, but really I'd written it sometime earlier, I wrote 'He's seeing someone, although our hours don't sync up to the point where I've met her yet.'

"Well, I saw her last night. Todd, it's Alia. I mean, Crystal."

What.

"I was trying to get to sleep. They came in at about 4, all over each other. I didn't look, but I heard their voices very clearly."

I sunk into the couch. For a while I didn't know what to say. So I asked, "Is she still here?"

"No, she left early this morning."

Hot with rage, I pounded on Bry's door, something that is strictly an emergency measure. Through the door he cursed me out before relenting and opening. When I saw his face, I didn't have any time to be subtle. I growled, "You're fucking Crystal."

He stopped in his tracks and sputtered, "Buh, wha? What makes you say that?" which is exactly what he says when he's called on his bullshit.

"Ginny saw you two last night." I looked over at her for confirmation, and she glanced away, trying to remove herself from the conflict.

Bry tried to wriggle out of it for a while, stammering things like "Is that all the proof you've got? You don't know the whole story, that's not what it is at all," before finally admitting "Well, okay, so we're... whatever. So what?"

"So what? So what?!" I'm flipping out, "You're fucking her! Do I need to spell it out for you?" I ranted and raved about boundaries and respect and all this other self-righteous stuff.

I couldn't believe Bry didn't see what was wrong with this. But he let me keep going, and when I was out of breath, he put his hands on his head like Dr. Cox, and asked if I was through. I'd thought I'd made my point pretty sufficiently, so I wanted to head what he had to say for himself.

So he says, "She's not Alia, you know."

Pause. I tell him, yeah, I know that.

"So what's the problem? You don't own her. She's not your girlfriend. She's a stranger to you. You've barely spoken to her. She thinks you hate her."

"I don't hate her," I objected.

"Well, I know, but that's what she thinks. We've gotten to know each other. She likes me. I like her. Things happen."

"You crossed a line here," I tell him.

"This is beyond your control, Todd. This is just like with Erica and Sean. That has nothing to do with you, and neither does this. She can be with anyone she wants. And you're lucky -- for fuck's sake, you are damn lucky she chose me and not, like, some stranger who doesn't know the truth. She trusts me."

"And what happens if she gets attached to you, when we have to send her away to Maine, and she doesn't want to go?"

"That's not gonna happen."

"How can you be sure?"

"Because she cares about me, Todd. Because she knows I want to help you get Alia back, and she wouldn't betray me that way. We're all on the same side here. Don't act like I'm betraying you here. It's the opposite."

I was suddenly feeling very overwhelmed. I can't remember the last time I'd felt so "put in my place."

I never thought of myself as someone who needed to control things, but my frustration at the Erica-Sean thing seems like part of this. The universe seems so big and unyielding, I want things I can command, but there's so much beyond me. It doesn't do wonders for my ego.

So I ask him, "Does Alia know about this?" He says no, he wanted to tell me first, because he know she'd end up telling me. We ended up telling her later that day. Her feelings were... mixed, to say the least. She has plenty going on in Rob's life, and she's not terribly comfortable with the idea of Bryan coupling with her body, but... well, you have to admit there's something in Bryan's logic. Whether this was something he came up with before or after his pants were off, I don't know.

It was on the 3rd of January that Ginessa headed home. The weather took a sudden turn for the colder in the New Year and Ginny took that as a sign that it was time to head home.

There's something very appealing about Ginny's life. It's not the one she was born with, but it's hers. She told me that when she was preparing to marry Gavin, she was still an ex-man doing what she had to do to survive, living in temporary solutions. It was afterward that comfort and security came, and something she calls love, when she really stopped being Mark and became Ginessa. For better or worse, she has her life, she makes decisions for herself, she is pretty much in control and doesn't rely on anything supernatural to provide for her. I hope to get back to that place as soon as I can.

But it's a long way away yet, and like I said... sometimes it feels like nothing's ever done. Maybe Ginessa proves that wrong. But I know nothing's done for me, yet.

-Todd

Todd: Mysteries part 2

How chaotic my life is that an entry I started trying to write on the 2nd didn't get posted until the 5th, and now here I am on the 7th trying to remember what happened in between.

Ginny had checked into a motel. What kind of fight she must've had with her husband that led to her wanting to make an impromptu trip north she didn't really explain, except that it was about whether or not to have kids, and that obviously it was a big deal. I helped her bring her stuff over to my place and let her crash on my couch. I forgot what it was like to have a female under your roof. I've missed it.

Nobody ever asked me if I wanted to have kids. I woke up one morning in a body that already had them. I hated it for a long time, resented the lack of control I had over my life, or what I thought should be my life. This was made easier to deal with by the fact that I did have a lot of time to myself, but I didn't have anything to do during that time except watch TV, eat and masturbate read. The rest of the time my life was controlled by the demands of the kids and husband I'd acquired, and all the little needs that went along with them. I can't believe how much I left out of this blog. A commenter noted that I seemed a lot happier when I was Anne-Marie. I think I didn't complain too much (and therefore barely spoke about it, because if I had believe me it'd be to complain) because part of me believed I deserved whatever misery I'd gotten. And part of me still believes that, because I've been a shitty boyfriend and a lazy human being. The truth is, I'm probably not those things, but far be it from me to realize that.

I probably seemed happier because I was complacent, glad to go along with whatever I had to deal with because I believed (rightly) that sooner or later it'd be over. If I woke up one day and learned that my chance to go back to the Inn was gone, I probably would've flipped my shit like nobody's business. I'm only unhappy now because of who is not in my life, in case I haven't made that clear. I think I have. I remember one time trying to corral Hayley and Connor into the car for a family gathering but Connor was playing Little Big Planet incessantly and I really lost my cool, yelling at him like some bitchy mom. Once I calmed down I freaked out privately about how out of control the whole situation had gotten, how it was affecting my behaviour. All it was was trying to get "my" kids into the car to go see family members that I don't even care about for reasons I didn't want. And somehow I was still capable of getting that irritated that easily. That's the kind of shit I didn't write about. Maybe I should have. This blog would feel a lot more complete.

I didn't, and don't, believe that the Inn affects the way one feels about things, behaves, thinks, acts, at least not in any magical way. Having lived through it, I certainly believed I was still in control of my every thought and desire, I was still the one making decisions. I only behaved differently because I was in a situation that necessitated a different type of behaviour. We know that the curse make a man into a woman physically; I believe that it's the situation that makes a man into a woman mentally. Bryan didn't want to be a girl acting girly and dating boys, so he became a tomboy who dated a girl. I wasn't going to go around finding lesbians who would want to bang a middle-aged mom, so I took what was there and convinced myself to put up with it.

Ginessa doesn't seem to have been anything other than a woman. I don't mean because she acts like a woman, I mean because she acts like she knows what she is. The morning after she first stayed over, she was sitting at my kitchen table drinking coffee and reading the newspaper, like any regular person. I remember getting to that place as Anne-Marie (Ginny must've gotten there long, long, long ago) where every day stopped being about the horror of a new life and instead about the normalcy of your own life.

I don't know how she fell in love with Gavin, I don't know how any woman falls in love with a man, especially having been one (having been a man who has had a woman in love with him, and having been a woman living with a man. Either way.) I think this baby-thing has really shaken her up, made her question her decisions, or second-guess the place those right-seeming decisions brought her. Who gets married without thinking of kids? She has to have seen this coming. It spooked her good, though.

I told her nobody asked me if I wanted to have kids, but I ended up with them, now almost for a second time. If someone had asked, I'd have said no thanks. But the truth is, being a parent is no worse than accidentally turning into someone else, and if you can handle that, you can handle anything. If you'd asked me if I'd want to spend a year as a woman, a mother, a wife, I would've laughed in your face without a moment's hesitation. And while I wasn't happy during that time, I don't regret it either. There you go, Bry. How could I? For starters, I made it back in one piece. I got an experience that extends beyond the imaginable, beyond what I can truly explain or even understand. Wouldn't have chosen to be Anne-Marie. Even if you lined up a hundred women and said I had to be one, I wouldn't have chosen to be Anne-Marie. I could've done worse, though. And I don't regret it. And I don't see Ginessa regretting a lot of her life either. But this kid thing, man! It's really got her tripped up.

Well, I think this is a problem without an easy answer. And I don't particularly do well when there ARE easy answers. Ginessa will either go back to New York and have a kid, or she'll go back to New York, fight with Gavin about it, and maybe they'll split up and she'll have to forge some new destiny for herself. Sadly, life is not a simple, straightforward story.

While she was here, she played girlfriend. Not romantic girlfriend, but "girl-friend." I indulged her in her shopping and we went to see Avatar, and I showed her the sights and introduced her to people who know about the Inn.

I hate to say this, especially considering the situation, but Ginny's the first woman I've found attractive in a long while. I mean, I see hot girls around a lot of the time but I don't approach them the way I used to, with confidence and, like, a plan. I just watch passively because I don't want to allow myself any dangerous thoughts while Alia is in Philly. Aside from Crystal/Alia and certain other people, Ginessa is the first female I have spent a significant amount of time with since getting back, and it gave me a warm feeling that was tainted by guilt. Guilt of me betraying Alia with those feelings (fleeting though they may be) and guilty of her already being on the rocks with her husband. I hate myself for the fact that, had I done anything, she wouldn't be the first married woman I'd fucked. That year. Ugh.

Once I'd acknowledged it to myself, at the end of the first very long day with her, I felt shitty. So I spilled my guts. "Ginny," I says, "I want you to know that I'm in a very vulnerable place right now, so if you're getting a weird vibe from me, just know that it's because you're just a really hot girl who is also very cool and I like spending time with you. That's all." Yeah, I've really lost my way with words.

She looks at me for a minute like she's trying to wrap her head around whatever it is I'd just said. "Todd, hun, are you saying you want to fuck me?"

"No, no, I mean, yeah who wouldn't, but I don't intend to do anything about that. I just meant it as a compliment."

She laughed a bit and sighed, "That's so wrong. Not quite as wrong as the fact that I've thought about it too, but pretty damn wrong."

"You've thought about it?"

"Sure. I mean, not seriously. I'm a married woman, for God's sake. But the idea had occurred to me that if I was going to cheat -- which I'm not -- I could do worse."

"Well... thanks." Then, since I could think of no appropriate gesture at that point, extended my hand for a shake.

She went in for a hug instead, and said quietly in my ear, "Do yourself a favour and keep it in your pants until Alia comes back." That's my New Year's Resolution.

I told Alia about this later on MSN. She replied with "Lol. You're an idiot, you know. But if you wanna come down here I wouldn't mind." I politely declined, but I'm counting the days until she makes it back to Maine.

The story of New Year's, and other stuff, is a relatively simple one, but I've spent so much time trying to make this little story into big thoughts that I should give it a rest. More later.

-Todd

Todd: Other People are Mysteries

That's what I've learned about the world since my trip to womanhood and back. I got only a fraction of the wife-mother experience, only a sliver of one woman's life and it opened up all these questions, about all women, about men, about myself. I used to want to understand women, now I don't believe such a thing is really possible. It's hard enough just trying to understand yourself. There are so many things I did when I was Anne-Marie that I don't even know why. But this isn't really about that.

Working over the holidays really got me down. My entire life became the retail world. And I like my job, inasmuch as I can enjoy a wageslave retail gig, talking about movies and music to customers who think I'm out to cheat them because I wear the uniform of a big company. It got fairly ridiculous over the holidays and there wasn't much time for me to think about anything else. I sleepwalked through Christmas with my family and made some very obligatory outings on New Year's. More on that later.

There are these kids that come into the store. I don't mean any specific kids, but it's a type of customer we have, teenagers, usually in the first couple years of high school, 15, maybe 16-year-olds. Usually in small groups of mixed boys and girls, usually it looks like at least one couple in the mix, possible their first relationship. That bums me out for whatever reason, seeing these kids with their lives ahead of them, getting the fun of a new romance for the first time in their lives. I miss that. I've thought I was in love a lot of times, but I only really was once, and she's still in Philadelphia teaching high school English.

Todd the former-woman isn't Todd the CD seller. My life has gone on. Bryan's life has. He's seeing someone, although our hours don't sync up to the point where I've met her yet. Maybe it's not serious but I do hear them fucking ever so subtly in the next room. Good for him. I know he's been in love, or at least he once told me he was, but he wasn't loved back, so he doesn't carry a torch. That is a man who knows how to get on with his life. Or maybe he still thinks of himself as a 15-year-old girl pretending as a man. Like I said, other people are a mystery -- Bryan in particular. He never got back to me about his investigation of Crystal the new Alia, beyond the name tracing to a different, more low-rent suburb of Cleveland. I think it was Cleveland Heights.

I was all super-absorbed with my own depression, and then on December 29th, a woman walks into the store. I was busy with a customer so I only caught her from the corner of my eye, but I sensed a familiar appearance. As soon as I had helped that customer, I turned my attention to this woman. She was about 5'6, dressed elegantly but warmly with a sweater, long coat and scarf, the curve of her beautiful round breasts apparent through the layers. Low rise jeans leaving just a hint of skin bare beneath the waist of her sweater -- it was a warm December in Toronto. Leather boots with low heels. Tan, light-brown skin with long brown hair pulled back demurely, small gold earrings, undecorated lips. Big purse slung over her shoulder. She looks at me uncertainly with her big brown eyes and I look back at her to signal that even though she doesn't recognize me I recognize her and I have to interpret she must have come looking for me.

She guesses, "Todd?" as if it'd be embarrassing to be wrong.

"Ginessa," I smirk, overplaying my confidence in our now-mutual recognition, "Long time no, uh, see." I had absolutely no idea how to react because apart from my sparse conversations with Bryan and my usually off-topic conversations with Alia (either Alia) the Inn has not impinged upon my day-to-day life lately.

She melts in the warmness of the situation and hugs me. "Oh my God I am so glad to see you. I'm so glad I was able to find you. When do you get off work?" It was a couple hours yet. She asked if there was a coffee place nearby where we could meet. Of course there was. This is Toronto.

While I continued to work, she browsed the store. I've never mentioned it by name, but I work in a very large CD/Music/Video Game chain store that does not exist in the States. We also sell books, but only if you like books about music or teenage vampires.

Once I clocked out, I took her down Bay Street to a favourite hole-in-the-wall non-chain coffee place I used to go often with Alia. I asked what she was doing in Toronto, she told me, obviously, she'd come to see me.

I say I haven't had the Inn impinge on my day-to-day life that much. That's true. But of course I haven't left it behind. I have had correspondence with Anne-Marie and Alia and through them I get updates on people like Cliff and the new Kalli and Julia. I have also kept a pen pal relationship with Ginessa, whom you'll no doubt remember was once a man named Mark, although that was a lifetime ago for her. I met her once in person, when I was Anne-Marie, back in March. I liked her, I admired how fully she'd seemed to move past her old life. She'd gotten married, although it was technically a green card marriage, she professed she did love her husband Gavin. Our mutual friend was Darren/Jaime, whom I haven't kept in contact with, not through dislike, but I suspect she probably didn't care for me goofing on her.

Ginessa and I were able to bond despite our differences, though, because we had both given in to certain parts of the change. Hers was permanent, mine wasn't -- I hadn't thought it was when we met, and wasn't distressed. Jaime was still stuck in a place where she couldn't seem to admit it if it was. Ginessa, once an aspiring football star, was now a clubbing, would-be actress wife. And it didn't seem to bother her.

Didn't seem to.

She didn't express a lot of discontent in our infrequent letters. She'd vent about Gavin's particular habits, apparently he's a fussy guy (to be a stage director, I guess you'd have to be) and bemoan what she considered to be a sometimes one-sided sex-life. I wondered whether she missed sex from the male perspective the way I did. The female orgasm is nice, but elusive, and there's something really cool about being "in control." Not that women are never in control. Anything can be both ways, and everything is a mystery, like I've said.

But she didn't run away from her husband because of sex. Not directly. She did it because, after three years of marriage, the fact that they had barely discussed children seemed to be eating away at him. It was clear this wasn't just a marriage of convenience, it was a relationship, and he wanted it all.

"And you?" I asked?

She sighed. "I don't know what I want anymore. I don't know if I ever did. I used to think every woman, deep down, wanted to settle down and have babies, and it was their job to convince the man to go along with it. Now I'm a woman, I'd be the one getting pregnant, giving birth, and the idea is too much for me to handle."

"You've been a woman for years, did you really never think about it?"

"Of course I thought about it. But when Gavin suggested I go off the pill, it got real."

"Do you think this has something to do with... the inn? Your old life?"

She hissed, "I'm not Mark anymore. I don't want to go back to the Inn. I'm done with it. I used to have to repeat that to Jaime-- I used to have to repeat it to myself, even before that."

"I know."

"You never gave up on the idea that you were Todd, though. I like being Ginessa. God, if 20-year-old me heard me saying that, he'd kick my ass... if he wasn't against hitting girls. I just don't want this to change."

"Tell him now isn't the right time."

"I can't do that. Financially, we're amazing. Gavin's union has good benefits. We're in love, the sex is great... well, it's good. I'm hot."

"Yeah, you're hot all right."

"I don't want to be a pregnant lady. I don't want this to ruin my relationship with Gavin. I don't want to raise a kid!"

The more she talked, the more I sensed it actually was about the Inn, but that's just my interpretation. Not that she didn't want to be female, but maybe she felt like if things got too real, she could go back and roll the dice again. A lot of (horribly unprincipled) people seem to use it as an exit strategy to their crappy lives. Ginny's life doesn't seem so crappy. But maybe being an Inn-survivor makes you a bit of a commitment-phobe.

I told her, "Did you know I almost cheated on Hal?"

"What?"

It's true. A few months before Bryan and I went back to the Inn, I met a guy named Jack. Not long after that, Hal's father got sick and for whatever reason he decided to express his stress with excessive fucking. And I went along with it because by that point I had this whole philosophy about putting his needs before my own hang-ups because hey, it's not really my life. But things were getting out of control and I needed something of my own.

I liked Jack, the way a dude admires another dude. The poor guy was heartbroken and he seemed nice, smart, kinda charming. So I sent him Anne-Marie's way -- at the time she was "Julia," struggling to keep the reins on "Kalli." She indulged him in a few dates but as far as I know was not overly into the idea of seeing someone. Since I had a friendly connection to him, he complained to me of his sexual inadequacy. I almost fucked him, just to cheer him up.

I told Ginny that a part of me regretted not doing it, because it would've been at least as honest, if not moreso, than fucking Hal. Hell, it would've been far more honest than fucking Donna. But I didn't, obviously, because I didn't want to fuck up someone else's life.

"But you've got your own life, now," I told her. "This is your life to fuck up. But you can't keep things going. Maybe one of you will relent on the kid thing, or maybe you'll end up divorced. I'm definitely not the one to give you advice."

"I know you're not," she smiled, "That's why I like ya, Todd. You get it."

The issue, of course, was far from resolved, and Ginny is still at my place, crashing on my couch... I have a lot more catching up to do with this blog, so stay tuned. But I've got to go to work right now.

-Todd

Todd: When the Levee Breaks...

Everybody lies, you know. I've thought this for a long time, and I definitely thought about it when I was Anne-Marie. So I probably had a bit of a screwy facial expression when I read Cliff's post about Thanksgiving where he said he tries not to lie to you people. It amused me a bit. Maybe he doesn't think he''s lying, maybe he's trying not to.

Maybe I'm just a suspicious person. Maybe I'm just exhausted from the last few months of mental self-abuse. I haven't been on here in a long while, definitely my longest absence since I started on here last October. At a certain point you gt tired of thinking about the Inn. Plus, I have Alia (don't I?) and we talk about her experience. We talk about it a lot. In a perverse way, it's become sort of a bonding thing. Penises and vaginas for both of us. We have little disagreements about whose situation is better or worse. It's cute in a gender-fucked sort of way.

By and large I have tried to leave Connecticut in Connecticut. I work a stupid job that I had in University and am well-overqualified for (stooging for a CD/DVD store in Toronto) and when I do so I turn off my brain, much the same way as I found myself doing when I had to be Wife/Mother Anne-Marie. I try to offer my advice to my compatriots when I can, but I usually find myself at a loss. A lot of the time I appear offline on MSN so that nobody asks me about it. Alia knows this and accepts it, or she's lying and thinks I'm being a jerk.

Bry takes this to an even greater degree than I have. Even though it's hardly his dream-job, he's thrown himself into his photography gig. He keeps an eye on Crystal, [NOTE: in the first draft of this entry I referred to her as "Alia." Freaky.] we don't hang out with her too much and Bry's been scarce too. For the most part, Inn-related matters are off the table with him. I wondered for a while whether that means he's dealing with it better than me, or worse. Shellshock. Ever read any Hemingway? Check out "Soldier's Home" from In Our Time. Sometimes it's like that. Maybe not so dramatic.

I still have a life and on the odd night when I'm not exhausted I go out. But I'm limited because I don't really wanna talk to girls and I'm not usually with Bry or Crystal. It freaks me out when I am with her because even though I knew from the start she's not really Alia, she has become so at-ease in Alia's skin that it makes me uncomfortable. She doesn't seem to doubt her identity much, confidently does things I told her Alia wouldn't. Drinks things she wouldn't dances like she wouldn't. Sings like she wouldn't. Very nice voice, even though Alia couldn't carry a tune to save her life. I remember playing Rock Band with the kids on Christmas...

After rescheduling plans repeatedly, Bry and I decided to hang out on Saturday night. We went to a strip club. A nice one, of the variety we wouldn't have been able to afford a few years ago. He's being well-paid and took me, I guess, as a treat to his neglected pal. I didn't know why, I never liked those places even before I had been a woman. Talk about lying. The simulation of sex without any intention or feeling of sex. i have fucked many a girl in my day without being in love with her, but to instill those feelings in a dude just to get his money... seemed so wrong to me. Now I think of myself handling Hal Adkisson's penis. "Wake up buddy, let's go for a ride."

That said, I think I get strippers. They've got to get paid like anyone else, they provide a service, a fantasy. There's definitely a market for it, but I was never a part of it. With or without Alia, I usually had someone who was willing to get naked for me, and go a lot further than a lapdance.

I wanted to ask Bryan how, after being who we'd been, seeing and living what we had, he could bring me to a place like that, but that's just Bryan. The one thing you can say about him is that he's got a very healthy love of the female body, not the least was demonstrated during his lesbian phase. We sat at a table away from the stage. Topless waitresses mingled with customers. A blonde took our drink orders. I thought of my fingers running over Anne-Marie's nipples during a private moment.

I've been living like a monk since July, since the incident with Donna. This is my second-longest period of inactivity, right behind the span between July 2008 and January 2009 when I was far from enthusiastic about getting fucked. By the end of this one, I expect it to be far longer than that one. Onstage, women writhe half-nakedly and the thought of having sex with one of them is both appealing and gravely disturbing to me. Didn't stop me from getting hard, though. I'm still a man, thank God.

"I didn't bring you here to gawk, man," Bry laughs, "I brought you here to talk. nobody's going to be able to overhear us." I can barely hear him, the music is so loud, and anyone tempted to eavesdrop would be distracted by the naked girls. This is not an intimate atmosphere.

"What do you think the odds are that Crystal is lying to us?"

The thought had crossed my mind.

He explained, "I've noticed some inconsistencies in her story. She changes her age every so often. She's never shown a picture of her original self, no Facebook or anything." Not unusual for a woman of her supposed age. "No listing for her surname in Shaker Heights, Ohio, where she told us she was from. When I ask, she dodges."

I don't know what it might mean. Maybe she's just trying to build herself up (Apparently Shaker Heights is a rather wealthy area) or maybe she's hiding something. I tell him to look into it, but I'm worried what he might find. I need to know exactly what sort of person is in my girlfriend's body. She knows about the blog but as far as I can tell does not read it.

We talk some more about it and go home. I resist the urge to ask him how he's feeling because I sense that's a dead end. Instead, he asks me about Erica, my baby-mama. I tell him all my attempts to build bridges between me and them have been shot down, mainly by Sean. I suspect he is still bitter about what happened between his girlfriend and my body. It's a shame, too, because he was a pretty nice guy before we fucked each other's girlfriends. And I didn't even get to do any of the fucking.

Then he gets this faraway look in his eyes, matched with a goofy grin, and he says something I can tell he's been refining in his mind for months. "Maybe it would've been a lot less trouble if we never came back."

I nearly choked on my objection. "Guh! What??"

He laughed. "I mean, dude, if you think about it, we came back to a life that was nothing but problems for everyone. Look at you. If Deb-Todd never went back to Connecticut, Alia would still be herself."

"And I'd still be Anne-Marie! And you'd still be Ellie! And as I recall, you weren't dealing with that too well!"

He handwaved that, "I was just being a teenage girl. It happens. I would've gotten over it."

"Sure, uh huh, I believe that. You really would've stayed a girl the rest of your life?"

"Sure. I got used to it real quick--"

"Too quick."

"--I had a pussy, and I was getting pussy."

I tell him, "It wasn't that simple. You're lucky you managed to keep it hidden from Ellie's mom. She would've flipped out."

"Totally, but she was a bitch anyway. I mean, I always felt, as long as you and I had each other to hang out with, we'd be okay. but now? Dude, you never hang out, you're not yourself."

"We didn't exactly go to strip clubs when I was your aunt."

"No, but we had something, man. Now I don't even know who you are. Who are you gonna be if Alia can't come back?"

"Don't say that."

"Well, what if, huh? What if she has to stay as Rob in Philly for the rest of her life! I can't take any more of this shit. You were more yourself when you had tits than you are now. It doesn't matter if my life is awesome now - it's not, but it's okay thanks for asking - I would've stuck around Connecticut and let you be happy to be a mom instead of fucking all this shit up by messing with the natural order of things."

Well, I didn't know what to say to that. I never thought "we turn into girls" was the natural order of things, but Bry did for whatever reason.

Then he went to bed, and we haven't spoken since.

More later, though.

-Todd

Todd: All I've got is a photograph...

You can tell I'm out of sorts, because usually I'm above a Def Leppard reference.

I've been moping a lot. I wasn't even sure I wanted to write this entry, because not a lot of note has happened since my last post. Been working detail. I'm glad to have that level of stability in my life. It's settled down to an almost unbearable level now that Crystal and Bryan work together and have their own stuff going on, I'm largely on my own. Things seem to be passing me by... Crystal, who when we first met her was very skittish about going out, went with Bryan and some others to the Zombie walk, which I skipped for a combination of work and moping.

Bry and I also had to accompany her to (Canadian) Thanksgiving and act as her guide to her various relations... it was awkward to explain why I was there despite our no longer being together. But she needs the help and support, and she's not a bad lady, so I'm happy to help her.

I keep wondering if I should maybe pick up the phone and call Erica and Sean, but I know they're not overly interested in anything I've got to say. And I guess I'm not really interested in anything they've got either. I just find it hard to relate to people nowadays.

It was over a year ago that I started posting here, sharing my story. It was really therapeutic, and regardless of what you folks think of me, I've always appreciated having this outlet. Back then I was lost and confused, and as much as things have changed, I still feel some of those same feelings.

Except now it's my own life I have to deal with. My time as Anne-Marie was paradise compared to what I'm going through lately. It was okay that I didn't feel comfortable because I wasn't supposed to be. Once I accepted that rock bottom level, everything became surprisingly easy. The sex didn't hurt. Well, sometimes it did... she was not a spry woman, that Anne-Marie.

I just need to shake myself out of this state of paralysis. I don't know what I want, and I can't get enthusiastic about anything. I'd try a shrink, but I don't think I'd be able to really open up. As you know, I've been through some weird, weird things.

It's just that I guess I expected going back to my life to be, well... my life, the life I left, despite the chaotic state I left it in. Employment or no, Alia was supposed to be a big part of that. And every time I see Crystal, it's just a harsh reminder. It's even worse when I was Anne-Marie and I saw a pretty young girl, and my brain kept expecting a reaction from a penis that wasn't there. I can't win.

The title of this entry is because I was thinking about all this while I was browsing Facebook. All the photos I have of Alia are outdated, from before either of us were changed, years ago when we were last dating. I have a lot of good memories of those times, and a lot of bad ones.

My hope, oddly enough, is that when she comes back, things won't be the same as they were back then, because I was kinda... lousy. Sometimes, anyway. I want to be a better man and I am tearing my hair out trying to figure out what that really means. I've been thinking about going back and finishing school, although that's not my favourite option. She and I have been talking it over on MSN. It was her idea.

But for now I'm stuck in this life that is just a few degrees off from the one I want and it's driving me mad. Someday, she will be back and we'll figure things out then (knock on wood) but until then, I've got my moping to go back to.

Then again, it feels wrong to keep up my moping when there are folks like Cliff and Marc and Greg and Alia out there. For the life of me I wouldn't go back to being Anne-Marie if you paid me (and in a way, it was kind of a profitable experience.) So this isn't a "grass is always greener" thing. It's just a "The grass is greener here but it's still pretty dry."

Which reminds me, there has been some correspondence down south, particularly as pertains to the new Julia and Kalli, but I'm not given to divulging others' personal details... except in all those cases when I already did.

-Todd

Todd: Nuit Blanche and a rambling man

I've been finding it very hard to sit still and settle back into the life that is rightfully mine, because there is a lot of housekeeping that I have put off since returning a few months ago.

Every time I see Erica, she has gotten that much more pregnant. She's really starting to expand. Since she works in an office and I, ahem, have a tendency to sleep all day, we never did intersect that much in my regular life and we haven't lately. But when I do see her, it's like a reminder that the life I've come back to isn't the one I left.

But I did manage to get over to her apartment for dinner over a week ago, with Bryan in tow. She and Sean Flaherty cooked some pasta while we all awkwardly caught up on things. It's so weird having to withhold such a giant tract of my life from people I know. There are so few people who can know that I spent a year as Anne-Marie. In a way, it's a relief, because it means I don't have to explain it to them, don't have to field questions about sex or menstruation or any of that other crap I've pretty much touched on here (and if I haven't said something directly here it's because I really didn't wanna talk about it.) But it's also a shame since it means a very important slice of my life has to go unacknowledged. I feel like I've matured, but Sean and Erica don't seem to agree.

They explained their position. They are looking to have all the legal paperwork drawn up so that Sean is legally the child's father. I will have no responsibility for it, I will not have to pay child support, they're not even sure when or if they will explain the kid's real parentage.

At first it was a relief. Although it is my genetic stock, I felt, at first, as much connection the the child growing inside Erica as I do to anyone else's baby. I wanted no part of it.

Relief turned to disappointment. I thought the last thing I wanted was to take care of a baby that isn't really mine, but it's a little more complicated than that. I try to push it out of my mind, but there's a part of me that fears Alia will never make it back to her own body, and that I will never care about someone the way I do about her and so will never have a kid of my own, aside from this one. Paranoid as it may be, being suddenly transformed into a different person will have a drastic impact on the way you look at things. It feels now like anything is possible.

Bryan sat watching from the couch while Sean cleared the dishes from the table and I sat across from Erica and asked her why keep it a secret, why cut me out of the whole thing, why not ask for any money?

I could see her squirm, as she insisted that keeping it between her and Sean was a way of keeping things from getting complicated. "Plus," Sean chimed in, "We thought you would want it this way. You're not really the parental type, you know?"

I've spend a fair bit of time talking about Sean Flaherty indirectly. He first came up when Alia admitted she'd had a fling with him when Deb was me. He and Erica actually go back a ways, but unlike me and Alia, only broke up once, and hadn't been together for a while, I assume, when this whole thing between her and Deb went down.

The easiest way to describe him is... smug. He can be a nice guy, but he has a bit of a holier-than-thou streak running through him. It was actually hard for me to spend a whole evening with this guy and not punch him, adding to my annoyance that he'd be raising this kid. Part of that was also the knowledge that he'd slept with Alia, but even before there was that. I've known him for years. He's a good athlete, he's a pretty boy, has terrible taste in music, dresses preppy, he has a good job and comes from a family background not that different from mine. He's Bizarro-me. And he doesn't hesitate to let people know he thinks highly of his accomplishments.

Erica steps in to clarify. "What he means to say is that your life is pretty chaotic lately. We can't take your money, you need to get settled for yourself. Maybe when you stop running all over the continent when you get bored or angry..."

Now I was really upset, partly offended at the insinuations about my character, partly annoyed that they were pretty much right. As much as I want everyone to know that I've changed, that I'm not going to be that guy anymore, there's no reason anyone should believe me, because I still seem to be the person I always was. A rolling stone, a "ramblin' man" (Allman Bros. reference) who ran away from his problems instead of facing them.

After all, I wasn't working, I was living hand-to-mouth, lonely and pining for Alia. My life had actually gone several steps backward since returning to Toronto. I left in a huff. Bryan followed a bit behind me, taking care to get leftovers.

Bryan. I keep forgetting, while I haven't been posting, that although there's not a lot going on in my life, there are others like Bryan and Crystal/Alia, that you readers only get to hear about through me. Crystal, as I've already said, got a job writing ad copy (I suspect Alia was afraid she'd end up doing something like that herself, but Crystal seems to like it.) As wary as I am of this rather skittish woman in my girlfriend's skin, she came through for Bryan and helped him get a staff photographer position, where he can ply his skills as well as keep a close eye on Crystal. I hate to be the suspicious type, but knowing what's going on in her life is a bit of an advantage.

Anyway, now they both suddenly have decent jobs and I'm left as the loser. I've pondered getting my design/intern gig back but I know I wouldn't be satisfied, I know there's not a lot of room for advancement there, and I'd pretty much be back where I started. I haven't written it off yet though, I just need to figure out exactly what I want. Stability, or happiness?

Until then, I managed to get back into a record store job I had years ago. It doesn't earn me a ton of bread, but it pays the bills. But it's not going to impress anyone into thinking I'm parent material.

I don't know what upset me so much. I actually don't want to be a parent and should be fine with the whole arrangement, but something about the way the whole thing went down felt so insulting... it just hit a sore spot because of the way I've been feeling about my life lately. I'm faced with the fact that I've really got to start outlining my future, and it's... intimidating. I'm feeling the pressure to get my life in order before Alia gets back.

Which brings us to Nuit Blanche, which is an all-night event in Toronto where the city is pretty much transformed into a massive modern art gallery. They have them in various cities all over the world (it started in Paris a few years ago and migrated outward.) We managed to entice the somewhat-introverted Crystal into coming out with us despite the ridiculous rainy weather. Ironically, she was the one most taken by some of the exhibits while Bry and I were calling "pretentious BS" left and right. She enjoyed it more than either of us.

She was getting kinda loopy around 3 AM. I had an installation I wanted to see across town, so Bry made sure she got home okay and met back up with me later. Getting her out of the way made it easier to interact with people who know the three of us. For a long time, there is going to be the awkward disconnect between what people think "Alia" is and what we know about her. We've had to face that fact a lot already, and hopefully over the next few months it'll get better, because it seems like Crystal really wants to get out more.

Anyway, I guess I've said enough for tonight. It was good to catch up.

-Todd

Alia/Rob: Too quiet

It hasn't exactly been a carnival for me since I've been here. It's been quiet and lonely, not really worth writing about. I've had to study up on the curriculum for Rob's English and History classes. The preparation has been somewhat akin to what Greg has spoken about, although rather than finger painting and naptime, I have to refresh my memory on figurative language and the Battle of Antietam.

I'm not really comfortable with this situation, because I feel like I'm doing myself, or Rob, or those kids a disservice if I don't know this stuff well enough to communicate it properly, even if most high school teachers I've know haven't had that attitude. Back when I was in high school, I had a teacher, Mr. Brown, who showed up every morning seeming genuinely excited to be teaching his students. He really seemed to like his job, and it was that enjoyment that, for a time, made me want to be a teacher. But that phase passed, and now here I am anyway. and I always thought, if I was going to be a teacher, that's the type I would be - enthusiastic and engaged, but how can I be enthusiastic? I'm not ready for this. It's a lot of responsibility. Classes start on the 3rd.

Meanwhile I've had my share of other concerns. For one, I had a very tense meeting with Rob's soon-to-be ex-wife Ingrid and her lawyer, and they were not pleased that Rob had missed their previously scheduled meeting (which, by my calendar, was shortly before I inherited his life and problems.) She gave me a death-stare the entire time.

She's one of those cold, detached yet mysteriously perfect-looking blonde white ladies my mom always seemed to have a bug up her behind about. She used to warn me that most men really wanted her type, although I thought it was an unfair prejudice, especially considering she married a white guy (and has been happy with him for nearly 30 years.) And most of my best friends have always been white anyway, so I never really thought of myself as "different" from them. This lady, though, gave me the chills, but it had nothing to do with race. Gender, maybe, but not race.

I could see why she might not have made a super-pleasant wife. My guess is that their relationship was fine as long as it was casual. She can't have been all that fun to go on dates with, but she got her claws in him, made him settle down before he was ready, controlled him and caused him to freak out, who probably explains why the first girl he saw, before their marriage was even officially over, was a hairdresser nearly 10 years younger.

Anyway, she sat there, judging me - or Rob, but I was feeling it - with her eyes while the lawyer drew up some paperwork for us both to sign. I'm supposed to take it back to my lawyer, although I have no idea why he wasn't in on that meeting, get it notarized, and send it back to her camp.

I keep putting it off, though, because I'm busy with both the curriculum preparation, and leading my stupid double life. As much as I appreciate Crystal involving me in my life, it's enough of a headache to be Rob and I can't handle the pressure of being both Rob and Alia. For a while, she was been pretty compulsive about keeping me updated on her thoughts on what she may do while being me. And trust m, while I appreciate the consultation, I have matters of my own.

Still, there's some important stuff to deal with that some of these fellow-victims would probably have rather had a hand in with their lives. Crystal wasn't about to pick up my position as a grad student. As important as it was to me that I finish my Master's degree in good time, there aren't any requirements that can't be put on hold until I can resume them myself. Until then, we brainstormed jobs that I could get with my resume, and that she was capable of handling. She's a pretty capable lady, and I'm somewhat accomplished I suppose, so it wasn't hard to come up with a few things -- jobs I wouldn't have necessarily wanted, but were available to me.

What was surprising was how quickly she started getting interviews for places like ad agencies and marketing firms. After only a few weeks, she actually got Full-time position writing ad copy for a place called Epic Communications. It's a small firm with a couple big clients, so the pay isn't great, but enough to sustain the modest lifestyle I'd been living anyway.

Since landing the job, thankfully, Crystal seems to have broken away and started doing her own thing. Obviously I intend to keep informed of what is going on in her life, despite the fact that she is not interested in contributing to this blog. Luckily, I've got two very dedicated spies on her trail in Todd and Bry. Mwahaha.

I'm kidding. She knows they're reporting to me.

Anyway, as annoying as her obsessive advice-seeking was at first, I don't mind that she was the one to end up with my body. She seems like a respectable woman, very driven and dedicated, and eager not to screw things up for me or for her. Maybe it seems a little too perfect, but quite honestly, I think the trade-off is that her life is boring.

Which I'm fine with. As you can imagine, my life as Rob has been pretty boring so far too. Don't get me wrong, I've scrawled down plenty of "Tired of worrying about catching penis in zipper" observations, but we have to save something for later entries, don't we...

Cheers,
Alia

Todd: I'm only happy when it rains...

Being back in Toronto has been really bittersweet for me. Even before I became myself again, I knew the experience would be tainted by Alia's presence at the Inn. So my momentary glow of victory feels like it's faded. The city feels a little colder, a little less familiar, even amidst the first serious heatwave I've felt all summer. It's been more humid than hell lately.

For a few days, Bry and I just walked around the city, savoring the sights. Queen, Bathurst, Yonge-Dundas, College and Spadina... the sights of those streetcars crawling along the streets, the dissipating odor of a monthlong garbage strike. We had Crystal along with us a lot of the time, showing her things that, as Alia, she would have to pretend to know about. The sights, the locales. She seemed pretty awestruck by it. I got the feeling she wasn't much of a city person. I figure she was half excited and half scared. After a few days of that, she retreated to the library. What she's been doing all day there is beyond me, but I think she's been using it as a base of operations for... whatever she plans to do with Alia's body.

She's been keeping her distance, but last night there was an absolutely massive thunderstorm. Like it didn't rain enough when I was in Maine, it's followed me back to my hometown.

Well, she showed up at our place, saying that being alone at Alia's place in a strange city had been hard enough, but the thunderstorm was really getting to her and she needed the company. I told her she was more than welcome to spend time with us, she didn't have to be intimidated or anything. We really just want to help her (well, and Alia, but I think that's implied.) We spent the night watching movies (we introduced her to High Fidelity and The Royal Tenenbaums, but decided our go-to movie, The Big Lebowski, might not be her speed.)

She fell asleep on the couch, and then Bry and I went to my room, where we had... a talk.

Basically, he asked me if I was thinking about making a move on Crystal. That was a big no. Admittedly, the way she looks brings up certain feelings for me, but there's something so off-putting about the way she's not Alia. After being around her for a few weeks, the Inn-curse mojo is starting to soften, the way it did when I'd been around Anne-Marie/Julia enough.

The way Bryan sees it, people are going to see me not being with Alia as a sign that she's available, and coming from her (probably sexually frustrated) background, it might not be easy to withstand temptation. Not to mention. he said, how her being a homebody might cramp our style, but exposing her to our lifestyle of awesomeness* might drive her too far into the aforementioned temptation.

*(It's not as awesome as all that, but it's still pretty good, and I've missed it. I've missed staying out late drinking at dive bars so much.)

Things were supposed to get easier once I went back to the Inn. How did I end up in this mess?

When we woke up in the morning, she was gone again. I'm hoping she makes her stays a more regular thing, but I've never been real good at resisting temptation. But she's not her. No matter how much I want her to be.

-Todd

Todd: Homecoming King and Queen

Bryan, most of the time, is a pretty open guy. There is, seemingly, nothing he feels uncomfortable talking about. In his natural state, at least.

For a while, early in our transformation, it seemed that was a trait that would carry over. There was nothing about Ellie's body he wouldn't comment on. He was fascianted by his skin, his small frame, his gradually-swelling breasts, and of course, his vagina. Man, was he fascinated by his vagina. At the time, it was irritating to me, because as you can imagine (as any normal man would) I had a certain amount of anxiety about my sudden vaginal equipment. At first, he looked at it - as it essentially was in the long-term - as a no-strings-attached vacation from his usual life and body. He had free domain over this young girl's form and, seemingly, felt no shame about it.

But school changed him. Nothing serves to implant a healthy dose of self-consciousness like a high school. Let alone a private one with uniforms. Suddenly he was forced - not that he might not have chosen, but here he was forced - to wear pleated skirts that rode up his legs, marching up and down halls filled with hormonal guys who would see those legs and follow them up, knowing what was under those skirts thanks to a healthy dose of modern Sex Ed. That shut Bryan up pretty quick. Then when he started seeing Leanne, he got particularly sensitive and I think by then he was just sick of the entire experience. Which I found amusing because we basically took the opposite route, since I had let go of my angst and decided just to live with it after so many months. Of course, I was the one having adult married sex, not just lurid teenage girl-on-girl makeouts.

We were on the road from Niagara to Toronto. It was a hot day. He was shifting in his seat and suddenly he turned to me and said "I can't get comfy. My balls are in the way."

I chuckled and said, "You'll get used to them again, give it time."

He just said, "I don't need time. I love this. This is an awesome problem to be having. Goddamn, Todd, I missed my balls. I never thought I would care that much, but I love having testicles."

"I agree," I said, having rediscovered comfortable positioning days ago.

"And seriously. How many times have you jacked off since we changed back?"

I didn't answer.

He laughed, "Bro, you don't even wanna know the kind of numbers I'm doing lately. It's been, like, a non-stop spank-a-thon all month. You're not gonna put this in the blog, are you?"

"Oh definitely not." Whoops.

"I just can't wait to get back to Toronto and just... get busy, you know? Meet new girls. Maybe call up some old ones. I don't know. I have been gone far too long."

"I hear ya."

About this time, the CN Tower came into view, punctuating all the penis-talk.

The truth is, I didn't know what to do. I still don't. I really want to remain faithful to Alia, even though I don't think she expects me to. I can't see myself getting interested in anyone else at this point. I think the main thing being a wife for a year has done for me - other than taught me how to truly satisfy a woman - is that I suddenly feel ready to settle down and get my life together.

But before I started figuring that out, let me tell you about the house guest we got. Because within minutes of stepping through the door of our wonderful crappy apartment, there she was.

Alia. Or should I say, someone who looks like Alia, feels like Alia, seems to move like Alia... but I have to keep reminding myself, is not.

It's not easy. Maybe the curse is playing its game on my head, but everything she says sounds, to me, exactly the way Alia might say it. When she does something drastically out of character, I have to remind myself "Oh yeah, that's why."

She showed up at our door frantically. "Finally! Alia told me I had to come see you guys, I've been waiting and everything. I would've called but my - Alia's - service was cut off. I had to wait for you guys to come back to the building."

I looked her over. My mind and my... (heart?) had a tug of war, saying "Yes it's Alia/No it's not." Even as she introduced herself.

"My name is Crystal Yeats. I'm a real estate agent from Shaker Heights, Ohio. I'm... I'm so sorry this had to happen, but I was told you guys would understand, that you... you lived through an experience like this."

"Yeah," Bryan nodded, "Todd here was a mom."

I elbowed him, "Well, we were both girls."

"You were a woman. I was a girl."

"You were a bitch!"

"So's your mom!"

Et cetera. By now, Crystal was on the couch rubbing her temples.

"It's just all happened so fast. I mean, I'm glad this isn't too big a change, from what you guys are describing, but you have to understand, I'm... I'm supposed to be a fair bit older than Alia. I'm almost forty."

I asked her what her life was like. Did she have kids, a husband, that kind of thing.

"No," she sighed, "I was with a man for years, and we were engaged, but that was a long time ago and since then, well, I haven't had much luck,. I haven't tried hard. I've been very busy with work, you understand."

I didn't, but I pretended to.

Bryan and I shared a knowing look. A single, middle-aged woman with no real attachments. This sounded distressingly like one of those scenarios that could end badly. We made a pact that whatever happens, we had to ensure that we get my Alia back where she belongs.

Luckily, it doesn't seem to be too much of a problem. Crystal seems to have a very mild temperament. She said she's more worried about inconveniencing us than anything else. I told her we'd been inconvenienced for a year by not having penises, we're just glad to be back in our old apartment.

"Well," she said, "I just want to do what's right."

I'd say that this will make the year much easier, but the truth is... who's to say what's right? All I need to do is make sure she doesn't wind up in the hospital or jail or something all year. I do feel a tad guilty about the idea that we'll be sending this woman back to what sounds like a pretty boring life (by her own admission she spent many a Saturday night at bingo.) But it's just available enough that some weirdo might have gotten ahold of her life and is looking forward to staying a single almost-40-year-old real estate agent in Shaker Heights, Ohio.

No matter how you slice it, there's nothing easy about the life of an inn victim at all.

-Todd