Todd/Anne-Marie: Complications

No sooner do I complain about not hearing from Deb and Amanda do I hear from Deb and Amanda. Saturday night, the transformation occurred, and Deb floated me an e-mail to keep me appraised of the situation.

There's been some... complication. It seems as though, through a confusion of sleeping habits with the previous Deb and Amanda, they wound up in the wrong bodies - Deb as Amanda and vice versa. So they're trying to figure out what they can do to resolve the situation and when. But they're probably very relieved just to have ovaries again, so there's that.

Which means, suddenly I can feel a new level of excitement that my body is officially waiting for me in Maine. It makes me wonder exactly what my body's status is... it's easy to think of as "limbo" but when there's a literal implication there, you begin to wonder what exactly that means. To think there's some kind of subspace storage facility where my body is being kept waiting... hmph. Maybe we're in the Matrix after all.

Sorry, this is the first time in a while that I've let my mind wonder about these things. For so long it's been "keep your head down and play Anne-Marie" that I forgot what a totally unreal paranormal experience I've been through. It's become sadly mundane and now that it's back again my way of thinking about it has changed. Is The Trading Post the only place on Earth that can do this? What is the origin of the curse? We may never know.

There are still a few different possible hitches in the plan but right now it's all systems go for me and Bry. That's not to say there haven't been obstacles.

Just last night, after a hectic yet subdued family gathering for Anne-Marie's birthday, Hal and I were getting ready for bed when he turns to me and says "So, you're really planning on taking Ellie to Maine next weekend?"

I give him the crook-eye and deadpan, "Yep."

"Are you sure about that?"

I roll my eyes. "What are you talking about?"

"Ellie's been through a lot these past few months, with school and the hospital and everything. Is it really a good idea to take her away from home for such a long time?"

I try to bury my frustration, "Of course. This is exactly what she needs. She's been looking forward to this for months."

"But things have changed."

I'm not keen on having this argument, because I won't let him win. "Hal. What is this really about?"

He looks somewhat embarrassed, "I was talking to Trudy and she's really worried. She doesn't want to let Ellie away from home, in case something happens."

I look him in the eye and try to use my soothing "mom" voice on him. "Nothing is going to happen to that girl. She's going to relax and get some sunshine. Trust me."

He grimaces, "I'm not the one you need to convince. My sister's feeling very protective. You know how she can get."

"Well, she'll just have to roll with this one, because if Ellie doesn't go, she'll be... heartbroken."

Hal won't let it go, saying, "I just wish you'd hear her out on this. You're a mom, how would you feel?"

Fortunately I have a secret weapon in situations like these where I just want to end the argument. I said "How does this feel?" and slipped my hand into his trousers.

Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm a devil woman. Using sex as a weapon. I should be above that, but it did the trick. He was satisfied, I was... not overly disappointed I suppose... and he fell asleep afterward, not breathing another word about it.

So sue me if, in my last week of womanhood, I want to use my femininity to my advantage. It's for a greater good. A month from now this is all history.

-Todd/AM

Todd/Anne-Marie: Mother's Day

My first and hopefully last Mother's Day as a mom. It was a... surreal experience. The family really made an effort to keep the focus on me, which I'm not only not used to, but actively try to avoid. I was prepared to get some attention today but wasn't sure how it would manifest itself.

In the morning I was given a few cards by the kids and some flowers by Hal. I don't really know what to do with them, but they're in water for now until they die. It was a gorgeous day, and we went out, with Hal's mother Lucille, to the Beardsley Zoo. It was nice, and reminds me of some old times I used to have with Bryan. We were kicked out of the Metro Toronto Zoo because apparently they don't like people walking around high and taunting Macaws. Anyway, this was a fun day too... Connor really entertained me by doing funny impressions or making up facts about basically every animal we saw. He's a real crack-up.

Anyway, Lucille took some time to speak with me. I didn't want to mention, you know, how sad it must be to be without her husband, and she had another topic in mind. She said I had to find a way to end this rivalry with Trudy. She said she understood that her daughter could be difficult and that the situation was largely not my fault, but it hurt her to see the two of us sniping so much. I told her I'd do what I could and asked if she would have the same talk with Trudy. Lucille sighed and said she loved her daughter and was proud of all she accomplished, but that she was not a people person, and not much of a "forgive and forgetter." Well it's nice to know Lucille's sympathies lie with me.

After dinner - a somewhat embarrassing display by Hal that made me a little more proud of what I've learned to do in the past nine months - I excused myself to run some errands. Hal insisted, "No sweetie, you're not running any errands today, let me do it." Using a bit of quick wit, I simply leaned in close and told him I needed to by more feminine hygiene products. He backed off. I get a kick out of how squeamish men are about this kind of stuff, because that totally used to be me. Most of us simply do not have the time or inclination to learn the facts about a woman's body, because it might ruin the mystique. In a way, I'm worried it has for me, but knowing a bit more about how to use the equipment will probably up my skill level once I get back to the home team.

The errand of course had nothing to do with Tampax, but was a visit out to "Julia and Kalli's" place. I had gotten a little card for Anne-Marie, because I feel guilty she doesn't get to spend this time with her family. She claimed not to have much time to talk, and when I asked why, I heard the toilet flush. She jumped, more than she would have if it were just "Kalli." Waiting to see who was about to emerge from that washroom put me on edge.

It was Jack, the guy I'd met at the supermarket and passed along to Julia. Julia asked to meet him down by the car, we'd only be a little while longer.

I don't know why I was so shocked. Like I said, I introduced them (more or less) but I guess I was just expecting "Julia" to say "Thanks but not thanks." She had a distinct look of guilt on her face. I didn't know what to think. So I just asked for an explanation. She was reluctant, but I assured her I wouldn't judge.

She said, "When I found out Ellie was getting serious with that Todd Jones boy, I got really nervous about what might happen. So it started as a reason for me to... tag along. To double date. I haven't been single in so long, I just thought it was so thrilling to have a boy looking at me like that."

With some reluctance I asked, "Have you two... hooked up?"

"Todd I don't know if that's really your business."

I twisted my lips uncomfortably. "Well maybe, but Anne... I've been having sex with your husband for three months now. Like I said I'm really not here to judge you, I just need to know where you stand."

She sighed. "We haven't yet. We've been taking it slow because he just got out of his relationship and I... I still love my husband, Todd, I want you to remember that."

"I know."

She continued, "But I've been thinking about it. I've been trying to convince myself that it'd be okay, if I want to... and part of me does, wants to be this woman. But every time we get close, I just... I haven't gone through with it yet. I don't know if I will."

I ran my fingers through my hair and adjusted my bra, a nervous habit. "Well I can't speak for Ellie, but I won't judge you if you take advantage of this situation. I'm doing what I'm doing... and I know what I would want Deb to be doing in my body if I could make her. So I couldn't blame you. But Anne-Marie... don't lead the guy on. This is like Bryan with his girlfriend, except right now we don't know who's going to be Julia in a few months. It could be a 40-year-old dude, or a kid. It's not fair to saddle someone with a relationship like this. If you can avoid it."

She looked down at the floor.

"But look. That's going to happen anyway, I figure. Just go easy on him, and please, please try to make sure this, these feelings, aren't something you bring back from Maine with you."

It was maybe not the best advice in the world. Again, even before all this I had a pretty messed up view of right and wrong in relationships, and this has just opened up all these scary new opportunities, but like I said, I can't personally judge Anne-Marie one way or the other.

Anyway, then I went home, and had pleasant but routine Mother's Day sex with Hal. I tried to enjoy it, but I think after the talk with Anne-Marie, my heart really wasn't in it. I went to bed feeling guilty... even though all this time, I haven't even really been in charge of the decisions I've been making, for good or bad.

I'm starting to think the worst part of this, for me, has been the feeling of not being in control of my own life. Some days I just wanna do something public and drastic and out of character for Anne-Marie just to see if anyone would notice. But no, it's only a month and a half until Bry and I go back. I've been nothing but a placeholder, a substitute, a bookmark for Anne-Marie this entire time. Why would I end that now?

-Todd/Anne-Marie

Oh yeah, and Bry sent me this.

Todd/Anne-Marie: Smart girl

In case my last post was too long, let me summarize it: "Tl;dr - Hal cries after we do it and it bums me out."

I have a tendency to ramble here. I mean, I feel like I owe it to you guys to present as much of the story as I can manage, not to mention for my own benefit for when I walk away from this whole thing. So in that respect I feel like I've done a disservice to Connor and Hayley.

I'll be the first to admit that over the past nine months as Anne-Marie I've sort of... failed as a mother. I don't think you can really blame me, but I carry a lot of guilt because of it. As Todd, I really wasn't the kind of guy you would want to have around your 12-year-old daughter. I had my vice. Shit man, I was a vice, and between me and Bryan, we were about as bad an influence as you could hope for without getting arrested.

So for a long time I kept distant from the two of them, and then the birthday things started to happen and I had to revise my decision, because these are vulnerable young kids who need a strong sense of parental guidance, or something. And I realize this, because after looking at the way I was living Anne-Marie's life, and looking back at my life as Todd... it wasn't something I had growing up. And I didn't want Hayley and Connor having that, not when I was in a position to help it.

So that was the first step, realizing there was a problem. The next step was in deciding what to do about it. Kids are pretty sharp, and they realize something's off if you jsut start being all buddy-buddy with them. The New York trip was a part of that, although I had my ulterior motive wanting to meet other Inn people, as well as getting a chance to see a city for once. In the end, it was a short-term solution. I still don't have a long-term one - but I've at least broken the ice.

Tuesday night, around 1 AM I came downstairs after yet another bedroom session with Hal. I was still puzzling about what I could do for him other than sex, because I could tell he's hurting. So I go into the kitchen for a glass of milk, turn on the light, and who should I see but little miss Hayley.

"Isn't it a school night?" I ask.

"I couldn't sleep. I think I'm sick."

I felt an oddly motherly sense of dread, just for a moment. With all this pandemic talk I've suddenly gotten very paranoid, maybe because I'm supposed to be "guardian of the family" and I don't do a particularly good job. But then that panic subsides and realism sets in and I start to joke. I have her open her mouth so I can look at her swollen throat. "Hm," I says, "This doesn't look good at all. Have you been licking any strange pigs lately? Mexican pigs?"

"Mom," she giggles, then coughs, "Don't be so gross. Or racist."

I turn and look at her. A smirk crossed my face. What a clever remark from a little girl like her. "Here sweetie, I'll fix you some herbal tea." I make sure it's non-caffeinated before I set the kettle on.

"So sick you can't sleep, eh?" I ask, sitting across the table from her, "I know that feeling."

"It's not really 'cause I'm sick," she tells me. "It's 'cause you and dad were being so loud."

Oh. My.

I was caught somewhat off guard, so I tried to play it cool. "Oh, were we being loud? I'm sorry about that."

She asks, "Are you guys fighting? You can tell me."

Now I cough with laughter. "No, we're not fighting."

"Oh," she says, "That's too bad. I didn't think you were, but I thought it was either that or the other thing."

"The other thing?" She just glares at me. Awkward. I start to get hot with embarrassment. "Depends what you mean by that." I know exactly what she means, and she knows I know.

She doesn't even wait for confirmation when she asks, "Is it fun?" Pause. "Does it feel good?"

This, I had not been counting on. All I wanted was a glass of milk and suddenly I've been blindsided into a "talk." I never even had a "talk" with my own mother. All she ever did was tell me to be safe after she found out I was already doing it. Well mom, look at me now. On second thought, don't.

Back to Hayley. I start to stammer what I think a little girl should hear. Sex is bad, don't do it, boys only want one thing. I get halfway through my opening statement "No, it doesn't feel good--" when I stop myself. I lie about enough things every single day. This girl is sharp, she has an excellent bullshit detector. If anyone's ever going to be straight with her, it's going to be me, right now.

"I'm not gonna lie to you," I tell her, "People wouldn't think about it so much if it weren't fun. Boys like it because it's easy for them. Girls like it because it makes boys like them." I'm broaching some extremely dangerous territory. "But it's worth waiting for. And it's very important that you care about the person you're doing it with." I was trying my best not to sound like a hypocrite. So I did the soft sell for abstinence. Frankly, I think I did all right, and I could tell she appreciated me being forthright with her.

If there's one thing I know, it's that telling her sex is bad, or wrong, is only going to make her want to try it for herself, at her earliest opportunity (and if what those alarmist tabloid shows say is true, it could be soon.) I think she's a smart enough girl that she went into the discussion with certain ideas, and my words reassured her.

It was tough, but I think even actual parents have a hard time with this stuff, so I went back to bed proud of myself. I've also made a point to try to be more discrete. Hayley's room is a ways down the hall from the master. Yowza.

-Todd/AM

Todd/Anne-Marie: Tired of Sex

I was a teenager - maybe in Grade 8 or 9 - when I first heard Weezer's second album Pinkerton. I'd already figured them for one hit wonder status, as good as Buddy Holly was, and their second album didn't seem to contain anything that would be that caliber of hit. Basically, a few years passed and I hadn't heard anything from them so I dismissed them offhand when Bry brought me his copy of this album. I was young, it was 1998 (a few years after the album's release) and I was way into Korn. Ugh.

So he played it for me and I thought it was just noise at first. I didn't want to sit through it, but he basically held me hostage. I think around the 5th track - "Across the Sea" - I started to get it. By the time I heard "El Scorcho" it was like a revelation, and it all came to a crescendo at the end with the dramatic "Falling For You" followed by the sweet, acoustic "Butterfly." It was really the album that made me - and a lot of people my age - want to make music.

I've listened to it maybe a thousand times since. It's an album about a lot of things - desire, yearning, frustration, - universal emotions that seem especially poignant to me now in my current situation. I mean, let's look at some lyrics here...

Tired of Sex
I'm tired / So tired / I'm tired of having sex (so tired) / I'm spread / So thin / I don't know who I am

Getchoo
You know this is breaking me up / You think that I'm some kind of freak, uh huh / But if you come back to me / Then you will surely see / That I'm just fooling around

No Other One
Nobody knows me like her / Nobody knows her like me / We're all we've got and we don't want to be alone

Across the Sea
Why are you so far away from me? / I need help and you're way across the sea / I could never touch you / I think it would be wrong / I've got your letter / You've got my song

The Good Life
When I look in the mirror / I can't believe what I see / Tell me who's that funky dude / Starin' back at me ... Excuse the bitchin / I shouldn't complain / I should have no feeling / 'cause feeling is pain / As everything I need / Is denied me / Everything I want / Is taken away from me / But who do I got to blame / Nobody but me / And I don't wanna be an old man anymore / It's been a year or two since / I was out on the floor / Shakin' booty making sweet love all the night / It's time I got back to the good life

Falling For You
I'd do about anything to get the hell out alive / Or maybe I would rather settle down with you / Holy moly baby wouldn't you know it / Just as I was bustin' loose / I gotta go turn in my rock star card / And get fat and old with you....

Butterfly
I'm sorry for what I did / I did what my body told me to / I didn't mean to do you harm / Everytime I pin down what I think I want it slips away / The ghost slips away...

The lyrics I've pointed out have to do with a lot of different things in my life... pretending as Anne-Marie while trying to get back to being Todd, relating to Bryan and "Julia," being with Hall ... pining for Alia... I've got a lot on my mind lately. This will probably be a long post and my lyrical analysis definitely increases that.

Maybe I'm seeing parallels where there are non,e or maybe it speaks to how universal these themes truly are. I just think they take on a weird new dimension when I consider my situation... doing things I never thought I would with a life I never asked to have... I mean, a year ago, I never really understood how anybody could get "Tired of Sex." Even when I understood the song as an indication of exhaustion from the rock and roll lifestyle, I still thought sex was an unassailable virtue, one thing that was truly good. Even as a woman, I began to take for granted that sex is enjoyable from either side, as much as I would like to get back on the other team.

But this entire family crisis situation - the funeral and everything - had a weird, unexpected side effect on Hal.

We first had sex in late January. In February and March we averaged, I would say, 6-8 sessions per month. We'd have maybe one go during the week, and then one or two on weekends, tops. I never felt like doing it when I was on my period, and he never asked to.

I became something I kinda looked forward to, the special perk of being Anne-Marie. When I shed my self-consciousness about Anne-Marie's body type and just let myself be free, it became strangely enjoyable to watch this dude get hard for Anne-Marie's body, and then put it to work. I was actually starting to enjoy it, although I never thought Hal was all that great at it (no offense to Anne-Marie.) There was also the fascinating advantage of not having to be "up" to start with, so while I never initiated it, I never had cause to turn it down either.

Eventually I learned to turn off the part of my brain that is averse to being the female part of the equation, partly out of enjoyment, partly out of perspective. I came to realize the person I see in the mirror is not Todd Casey, no matter how much I cling to that identity - I'm not Todd a lot of the time, but sex is basically the only thing there is to enjoy about being Anne-Marie. Nobody is going to look at me and think "that dude is so gay" because, well, gay dudes don't have vaginas. And in a few months, I won't either, so I'll be back to my usual preference. And I am psyched for that, but until then I make due with what I've got - a surprisingly sensitive and able woman's body, and a man who makes for a reliable if un-astounding partner.

Which brings me to the early part of April, when we found out Hal's dad was in the hospital. Right after that, shit started getting turned upside down at Hal's dental practice. I don't know the details, but Anne-Marie/Julia would. Some kind of filing clusterfuck that is at least partly related to her inexperience at filing and resentment from older co-workers. So he's got all that stress and emotional weight on him, good time to relieve your stress with some fucking, right?

I guess stress and grief turn Hal into an unstoppable screwing machine. In the 30 days of April we did it for about 22 of them, way up from our 6-8 average. We didn't do it the week of the funeral since we were all very busy and I happened to be on the rag*, and then afterward it was right back to it.

(*Now there's a feeling I have kept from this blog. I'm so burnt out during those times I tend to avoid the blog, and then I forget to write about it when I come back.)

I don't know when to say enough is enough, please get off me. I don't want to be rude and part of me still likes it, but eventually I've just got to say "Dude... if you keep using that thing it's gonna fall off." I haven't had much occasion declining sex in my life, so I'm not equipped for this discussion. I feel like at his age, he's risking hurting himself or something. But this is not the problem. As annoying as it can be, more sex is not something I'm complaining about at this point. No, the real problem came afterward. Pardon the pun.

After one session Saturday night, I left the bed to let Hal drift off to sleep. I never really got over the part of me that only wanted to take care of business and leave, so what I do most of the time is get up, read a book or surf the internet, and let him drift off, returning to bed about 20 minutes later. I got up, went to the washroom, cleaned myself up a bit, and as I was heading back through the bedroom to the stairs, I heard... sobbing.

Once I realized what was happening, I felt a mixture of pity, guilt, and anger. Pity because of how upset he is, feeling he's had to hide it all this time. Guilt because I'm not equipped to comfort him with anything other than sex, which is clearly not what he needs. Since I'm not really emotionally invested in this whole marriage, I feel awkward trying to comfort him anything more than a cursory pat on the back. Anger, because I'm the only one who can comfort him, I'm all he's got, and I haven't got the ability nor inclination to give the support he needs. It's a fucking reminder that I'm a substitute, a pretender, a liar. I'm not his wife, and after 9 months, I'm still fucking clueless about marriage.

This is a goddamn untenable situation, and I need to get out of it soon.

So all I could do was get back in the bed, hold him, and tell him sympathetically, "It's okay, sweetie." I sounded like an asshole, but it seemed to help.

But I've found that at least that part of me is still male - I find masculine emotional vulnerability uncomfortable, and it's a real turn-off. Now I really am tired of sex.

Never thought I'd see the day.

-Todd/AM

Todd/Anne-Marie: Why I was not in New York this weekend

Sometimes, I utterly forget that I'm married.

I wear the ring, I share my bed, I cook and clean for the guy, and yet it's remarkably easy for me to just push him out of my head when I need to. Like say, when I spontaneously promise Hayley a trip to New York on a few days' notice, along with a spa trip and whatever other tourist goodies might come her way.

It wasn't long before it dawned on me that it wasn't really my call. When Hayley went to ask her dad about it, he asked me to see him in the bedroom. I felt like I was called into the principal's office. I sat on the bed. He stood by the dresser.

"What's this I'm hearing about a New York trip? Hayley said you were taking her there this weekend."

Somewhat ashamed, I just looked down at my feet and said, "Maybe."

"That's... you can't just do that, Anne-Marie. We need to talk about this."

"Okay, so let's talk."

"You can't just go off on a trip whenever you feel like it!" he says. "Last summer you disappeared for nearly a month with my sister's daughter. Anything could've happened to you. We were so worried. And you've been making plans to go back there this summer."

He goes on and on and I guess I'm supposed to feel guilty, but from my perspective nothing's wrong. I was starting to feel really bummed out for being talked to in that way, but at the same time... I zoned out because it didn't really apply.

So I told him, "Yes, but can we keep this about New York?"

"I'm not made out of trips, Annie. You should've consulted me first."

"I'm sorry," I said, "I just... I panicked, because I realized, in case you didn't notice, we kind of forgot our daughter's birthday. I thought it might offset that a little bit."

"I just don't think we can afford it. Between this and your little Maine vacation..." he keeps bringing Maine into it. I want to deal with that at another time.

I start to reason with him, "Look. I've been cutting back spending. I haven't bought clothes or shoes in months." It's true, I've indulged in a little shopping since transforming, usually with "Julia," but for the most part I live on the cheap like I did when I was poor. "We've saved plenty to make both this and Maine work."

"Okay look, we'll go online, we'll find a Holiday Inn in Secaucus or something, and we can drive into the city next weekend. I don't know about this spa thing, but we can at least see a show or something."

I just look at him. "We?"

He laughs, "You didn't think you were gonna go to New York City without me and Connor, did you?" I guess not. "And we'll talk about Maine too. Could be very romantic." He kisses me on the cheek. I want to tell him, "Um, no, we will not talk about Maine, you are not coming to Maine." but at this point he left the room.

I guess it was a little presumptuous to assume I could make these plans without involving Hal. I don't mind him coming along to NYC, because now there's a chance I can get away and see those other nearby Inn folks I've been talking with (through the magic of Facebook, MSN and E-Mail.) But I really do not like the idea that he'll follow his wife to Maine. That's just asking for trouble.

Meanwhile in South Carolina...

From what I hear, "Julia" and "Kalli" escaped just in time to miss a massive storm in that area, flying into Logan a few nights ago (maybe they should've stopped in on Art and Ashlyn!) and driving the few hours back to our neck of the woods. Kalli's mom's angina flared up so she was called back home, and, having nothing better to do, went, with "Julia" as a secret chaperon. They came back one heavy. This is where it gets weird.

I don't know what has been running through Anne-Marie's mind since she became Julia, but she was certainly very concerned that I do my best to keep up her relationship with her husband. I've done my best and tried to put a positive spin on it, but it's still kind of a chore to get down with the guy every now and again. But it was all for a good cause.

Anyway, when "Julia" got back in town, she was immediately contacted by an old flame of Julia's - very unfortunately named Todd Jones (T2, or Jonesy for the purposes of this blog.) And for whatever reason, she decided that somehow it would be appropriate for her to bring this guy back to Connecticut, where she is a married woman living in another person's body with her similarly transformed 14-year-old niece. Doesn't this all sound a little inappropriate?

I don't know what to think. Is she banging this guy? And if she is, should I be upset? After all, I wish the new me would keep up relations with Alia alive, but s/he hasn't, and I just have to live with it. And she can't sleep with her own husband, and, what, should she be a nun? I guess not. It just pisses me off that there's not another option. Hal cheating on me with her sounds really good right now.

And what kind of example does this set for "Kalli," who for all intents and purposes is the same age as Julia? I feel like I'm the only mature one around here and that is not a good role for me.

Ugh, it's so frustrating.

And as if that wasn't bad enough...

Friday mornings I go to the gym. Last week, after my session, I was drying off from the shower and changing back into my day clothes... self-consciously trying to eyeball the nubile young ladies and re-create some of Bry's observations for my own (no luck) when I get cornered by who else but Donna, wearing her workout gear.

Apparently, she didn't take kindly to the tone I took in my voicemail. She gives me this stern look before just sighing. "Anne-Marie, I can tell you have something you want to get off your chest." I froze - as luck would have it, my hands happened to be cupping my breasts at the time. She continued, "I want you to know that no matter what, I'm your friend and I'm here for you. We disagree on some things, and maybe someday you'll see my point of view, but for now, I'd still like us to be close."

Despite knowing I am not the Anne-Marie she knew, Donna still seems to be treating me like the person I look like. It makes me wonder if Donna truly understands what the Inn does to people. I just shook my head and continued to dress. "Whatever."

"If that means unburdening yourself and telling me all about who you used to be, I'm ready to hear it. If it means helping you get through this, I'll be glad to."

I scoffed. "Is this, like, a joke to you? Are you messing with me? Whatever. If you want to talk, we'll talk, but not today." I just wasn't in the mood for her crap.

More later - I've got to start dinner.
-Todd/AM

Todd/Anne-Marie: I had to get around to it eventually.

Yes, Hal and I did it on Saturday night.

In a way, it's a load off my mind, because now I know what it's like, but I've spent a lot of the time since in a daze trying to sort out my opinions on the matter, as well as some very strange news that has overshadowed it (yes I know, shocking though it is, there's something more pressing than sex.)

But sex is what you've come for so I might as well clear that topic up.

The kids were at their Aunt & Uncle's place (The McClay's, Ellie's house,) so Hal and I could have a romantic evening that was more awkward for me than anything and made me want to go through with it less than ever. But after the main course, (a veal dish I whipped up - I'm getting half-decent at this cooking thing) we sat drinking wine for a little while. I was aiming to get drunk past the point of consolation, so that I'd be more amiable to the situation, but it was to Hal's credit that he didn't immediately whip it out and take me by force. He was willing to wait, and that was something I really... appreciated. Lord knows I kept him on the line long enough, finding some reason to put it off longer and longer.

Over drinks, we got to talking, Hal and I. He's a decent guy, sorta complicated and sorta not. If I were really his wife, I'd probably see him as closed off, but I know where that type of behaviour comes from and I don't begrudge him it. So I coaxed him into letting his guard down and before long we were more straightforward with each other than we had been ever before - as much as we could be with me completely lying about my identity - and I voiced some of the feelings Anne-Marie had expressed to me about her husband, saying I know it's been a tough time and thank you for being such a strong provider and all that stuff. It was a good performance. And then eventually, three and a half glasses of wine deep apiece, he stood up, and took me by the hand, and... well, no more words.

God, this is embarrassing. I'm at a loss for words (a rare condition for me.) As a guy, I bragged about sex all the time, but now I just feel really... I don't know, vulnerable? Exposed? Is that too girly to admit to? Changing your role in sex, I just realized, consists of more than a sensory experience, it's a whole new goddamn discourse. I should've read Foucault when I had the chance.

For a grown man becoming a woman in this scenario, there comes a time... however many weeks or months it might take... when you just can't deny yourself anymore. Especially when your back's against the wall like mine's been. I think Art and Ashlyn might back me up on that (but to each their own.) On the night before, I got to thinking about my life as Anne-Marie, and everything I've been through. Beyond the initial fear and confusion and loss of self-identity. I've been through the cycles, the soreness of this body, the exhaustion at things I used to be able to do no problem, the different tastes, the family dinners, the laundry, the unusual desires, the body odours, retaining water, dressing myself in a woman's clothes, sleeping in bed with someone's husband, lying to everybody in the world (except two,) and all that other minute shit that has worn me down over the past six months... I thought about it all and just fucking broke down and thought, goddamnit, I need something I can enjoy. It's not so much about sexual pleasure, I'm saying, as much as it's about something safe. Something I can just enjoy.

So with all that in mind, I felt I owed it to myself more than anything else to at least try to enjoy this part of it. Because for the next six months, it's about all I've got.

So we went up to the bedroom, and got warmed up pretty fast. I guess the thing about marital sex that's different from premarital sex (of which I know a great deal more) is that it's all fairly routine. He didn't feel the need to try anything that I would've deemed unusual. In fact, there was a great deal more he could've done that I always tired to do, but again, that's from the perspective of a 24-year-old unmarried guy. So basically after some light fondling and such to get him primed, we just... got to it.

I'll note, as a matter of record, that I was considering dolling up a bit more for the occasion. I would've known where to begin, but Anne-Marie has a small collection of sexy lingerie. I used to date a girl who was really into corsets and leggings and all that stuff, but she was kinda chubby and it hurt the effect a little bit, to see her all jammed into it. Anne-Marie is no spring chicken, this body has given birth to two kids and seen better days. I looked at that stuff, and it brought back those memories, and I thought better of it. I was just wearing a black bra and panties, and not for long: I stripped them off and slipped into bed next to him.

The whole affair lasted maybe 10 minutes, and at the end, he held me a while before falling asleep. The whole time I was just... outside my own body. I felt this thing slipping into me, and it was like "Woah, not ready for this, but here we go!" It's also very strange to find you don't mind a hefty-ish, hairy-ish man grunting and gyrating on top of your body in certain situations. Since I wasn't really "warmed up," there was a very unpleasant friction at first, but as we got into the groove, his member started finding the right spots and I was starting to enjoy the rhythm before... whoop. Thanks for playing.

I know this is gonna sound weird, but it's the holding that made me more uncomfortable than anything else we did. I would rather have kept it less intimate than that. I could feel his heart beat and suddenly I was aware that this man thought he as in love with me. Oh, shit.

I'm at a loss for words to describe the actual feeling. It was... nice, and I get the sense it could've been a lot better. I'm disappointed it didn't turn out better, but I'm not alarmed I liked it as much as I did. I don't know what I was expecting. But when I finally did get to sleep, I slept like a log, and felt better the next morning than I have since transforming, or in fact a while before.

But if it's not one thing it's another...

I was called over the next morning to help Donna, Anne-Marie's oddly irksome friend, with her new HDTV. Having seen my prowess at the cocktail party, she enlisted my help fixing some wiring.

Donna, I'd decided over the last few months, is an odd bird. She's in her 40's, has a son in University and a daughter in the last year of high school. She's fairly well-preserved, and has a good deal of exercise equipment around her house, as well as beauty supplies. Her husband is some communications bigwig and works 4 days a week in the city, and often goes on business trips, so she's along in the house a fair bit. I got the feeling this was why she was so cloying for Anne-Marie's friendship.

"I'll put a cup of tea on," she insisted when I arrived. She'd asked me to come over around 11 on Sunday, and when she answered the door, she was wearing a lace nightie under a robe very loosely cinched so that when she opened the door and a gust of winter wind blew, her cleavage stared me right in the eye. I averted my eyes awkwardly.

"That's okay," I said, stepping out of my boots, "I won't be long."

"Oh come on now," she teased, "There's nobody else here, I need someone to talk to. We go so long without seeing one another these days."

Nobody else here? Then what in God's name was the nightie for?

After putting on a kettle, she went upstairs and was caught in a lie when I heard her daughter yelp, "Ew, mom! How about putting on some clothes sometimes? God!" I laughed and got to work on the TV set. I made short work of it, since the only problem was a wrongly-inserted AV cable.

"Oh, I'm so glad," Donna said when she came downstairs, more reasonable dressed in a sweater and khakis, "My husband is just as bad at this stuff as I am and he's too proud to ask for help. You know men."

"That I do," I huffed. Let me go, lady, I thought as I stepped toward the door.

"Oh by the way, I borrowed something from you," she rifled around the kitchen as I stood in the doorway. "Hal lent them to me when we were at your place last month, and I haven't had a chance to give them back. I was just so interested in looking at them."

Anne-Marie's photos from the Maine trip. They'd been on the digital camera when I was transformed. I gave her a very suspicious look and said thanks for returning them.

"She's growing up so fast, your niece," Donna smiled politely, "She looks so petite there, but I saw her at the party too, and she's becoming quite a young lady." Well, that was the truth - Bryan's transformation has really been ongoing.

"And the inn where you stayed, well, it looks so cozy," she noted. Now I was started to get seriously weirded out.

"It wasn't as good as it looks," I sneered. Hand on the doorknob.

Her glance turned away momentarily. "Well, in any case, they've hardly re-decorated at all since the last time I was there."

I froze, barely able to breathlessly form the words "Excuse me?"

She looked me dead in the eye, her lips cracking into an evil grin, "Oh you know. It's just been so long since I was there I can hardly remember it, but it does bring back memories."

The teakettle whistled.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay a while?"

Like I said, stuff just keeps coming up. I'll have to get back to this later.

-Todd/Anne-Marie

Todd/Anne-Marie: To quote a fellow Canuck...

Man, I feel like a woman.

Hal had his procedure last Monday. He spent most of the next week hobbling around with an icepack on his groin, and then things got busy, so we haven't, erm... gone ahead with the, uh, project. So basically, I spent all week living in prolonged anxiety, and being worked like a slave girl. I'd grown really accustomed to having my space during the day that it became kind of a neat situation where I could just wander around and forget what I look like, even when I can't forget what I look like. But with Hal calling for Anne-Marie to get lunch and run errands, I feel more like a wife than I have since I first came to this place. And just think... this dude expects me to do stuff with him.

It was kinda pathetic, and personally, I think he's milking it. I mean, yeah, I remember what it was like to have balls, and if some dude had been up in there with a scalpel, then maybe it would lay you up for a little while, but... well, the distance he took it was a bit much, is all. I sympathize and all, but no need to overdo it.

So this week, he's back at work, and he's gonna do a second test to determine the absence of sperm, and then, if all goes as "planned" (note sarcastic finger-quotes) Saturday night is the night. The kids will be at Aunt Trudy's place, and we'll have a... nice evening.... together.

I can't turn off the part of me that thinks this is wrong. That if I don't want to do this, I shouldn't feel obligated to. It's Anne-Marie he loves, he wants, and I'm not her. But am I gonna look him in the eye and say "Go mess around with your secretary, she wants it more"? This is the most altruistic thing I've ever done. What's worse is... I can't turn off the part of me that does want it, either.

I know, I know, it's not that I'm interested in getting it on with Hal, or any guy, but... has anyone ever read Greek mythology? Or T.S. Eliot's the Wasteland? (I'm a dropout but a well-read one.) I feel like Tiresias, and if what he had to say has any bearing, well... I've gotta know.

I'm just terrified of how good it might actually be. (This blog itself is loaded with mixed reviews.) Bry's no help either. I was having lunch with her on one of our "girls' days out" last weekend, where we get hot chocolate and pretend to shop (which I'm sorry to say actually results in a good deal of real shopping.) She kept chirping me about it. "Dude, you've gotta try it!" she said with this little-girl verve she's inherited from Ellie. I guess she realizes since she's gonna be a guy again soon (fingers crossed!) and she's so young she's not going to be the one to experience this for herself, so why not me? Yeah, easy for her to say.

I have to admit, I could do worse. He's got kind of a chubby George Clooney thing going on, if you squint. And he's kinda funny? Man, I am really stretching to justify this to myself.

I mentioned the trip. Yes, it's all booked, at least for four of the six of us. Amanda and Deb got their slot in late Early June, which hopefully puts me and Bry there after he gets done school. "Julia" and "Kalli" have yet to confirm. I'm worried that it's about money for them... I wish I could just dig into Anne's purse and give it to them, but Hal was already reluctant to let me go for what promised to be yet another month-long sojourn in Maine, part of which would be incommunicado. Erm... yeah.

Look, I just want to get out of this skin. I want to go home and I don't want to look at much less feel another man's junk any more than I had to.

Tired of playing housewife, and six months to go.

-Todd/AM

Todd/Anne-Marie: It's a new year...

...guess what my resolution is?

In only a few days, I'll have to make some reservations for the Trading Post. If every who stays there is as desperate to get their body back as I am, there might be a rush. I dread to think what could happen with imperfect planning. And me, I never been very organized. I'd hate to find myself in some other body halfway across the country powerless to get back. Given the choice between being Anne-Marie and rolling the dice... I'd have to play it safe. Your physical identity is nothing to play Russian Roulette with.

Fortunately, I've got an ally, and I don't mean Bryan. I never really talked about it I guess, because it's not really my business (even if it is my life) but the person who wound up in my and Bry's lives aren't exactly... the type of people who would want to be there. And I can't blame them, because as accustomed to our meager lives as we were, and as eager as we are to get back, they're not going to be someone's first choice. So when you consider who's been walking around in my shoes all winter, you'll understand why they'll be as glad to go back as me.

Given the appearance of the Inn, I would expect that most of the visitors are female. Sure, a whole bunch of us guys end up there and that's how you end up with all of us here on the blog staring down their own cleavage all of a sudden and thinking "I've gotta tell people about this!" But the room where Bry and I stayed was booked, along with a couple others, as part of a Bachelorette weekend. The Bride-to-Be was named Deb, she was a 40-something real estate agent from Jacksonville, Florida. She and her maid of honour Amanda (the 27-year-old receptionist at her work) wound up as me and Bryan respectively.

From my talks with Deb, she's a fussy kind of lady, very much a neatness/control freak type, with all due respect (I think she's reading this.) She'd been married once before and was really excited about starting over. Talk about a fresh start. Imagine her horror at being told she was now going to live in a cramped, crappy apartment where the furniture was covered in XBox controllers, clothes and porn. My life was a mess, and she had to clean it up.

She started by getting em a new job, since my income was hardly steady. She got one I wouldn't have been able to do if my life depended on it, baking bread at a bakery in Yorkville. I think Amanda kept doing Bryan's supermarket job. None of this is all that important, but we e-mail on a fairly regular basis. They lead an isolated, insecure life, trying to avoid my numerous sketchy acquaintences. Deb really wants to get back to the man she was supposed to marry (from what I hear, the wedding went on as planned although the new bride is probably none too keen.) And Amanda, I guess, is along for the ride... maybe she really is the female version of Bryan. Anyway, Deb's been really great about making plans, roping the new-her into going back and keeping me posted on things.

My main concern is for how s/he interacts with Alia. I had really hoped to rekindle things, and I think she did too, but... with a grown woman in my body, they're more like, you know... gal pals, which is frankly embarrassing, and probably slightly irksome to Alia given the apparent sexual disinterest there. Deb's reluctance to "dive in" is not all that much like my own.

Anne-Marie begged me to let Hal get the vasectomy. It'll put him out of commission for a few weeks, maybe a month or more, while he recuperates and gets tested to make sure it's taken effect, but... he's going to have some serious goddamn expectations when he gets off the injured list.

It's kind of a catch-22. Anne-Marie had been trying to convince him to go along with it for a year or so, confident she didn't want any more kids. Like many men, he saw it as a threat to his manhood: nobody is keen to get a knife down there. He wasn't deadset against it, but had a lengthy period of hesitation. If I, as Anne-Marie, suddenly tell him not to do it, it's like saying "I want another kid," so there's sex involved. Of course I by no means want that so if I say "Yes, get the vasectomy," it's like saying "Let's just have sex," so again, sex. I used to have to work to get sex as a man, and now I can't escape it. I thought married people just let their private parts go to waste after the kids were born.

Add to that the fact that Anne-Marie's body has been sending me some strong signals, and now that I know what they are, I can't bring myself to ignore them.

So what's a guy to do? He's scheduled the surgery for Monday. I don't know how wild Anne-Marie is about the idea that I might actually have to bang her husband, but I am starting to think she's more enthusiastic than I am. I guess I'll find some way to talk my way out of it. That could work, right?

I feel a bit like I'm on the uphill part of a roller coaster. Full of dread, but worried I might even like finding out what it's like on the way down.

This is... kind of a mess. I can't wait to get back to having regular people problems. This has kinda been a thick entry and I feel like I've just rambled a lot... I've been meaning to write in here more often, but I get distracted, and then things kinda pile up like this.

Oh well...

-Todd/Anne-Marie

Todd/Anne-Marie: Cocktails anyone?

It's been an extremely busy holiday season. I'm sure you're all dying to know how pleased I was that Hayley and Conner loved the CD's and video games Anne-Marie and I picked out for them, but, well, it's not all that interesting. Stressful, but not interesting. The worst part was having to feign interest in the variety of perfumes, pyjamas, linens and garments I had to unwrap. It was not a Merry Christmas for this guy.

As you might imagine, I don't care much for family gatherings in this body. I find that a lot of the in-laws on Hal's side, particularly Trudy, still judge her pretty harshly for whatever reason, so they've been taking it out on me. "Julia" wasn't there this time, but Bryan was. It was weird, even perversely amusing to see Bry get all thankful for Ellie's gifts, which were mostly clothes and accessories, and of course, cash. I mainly kept to myself and drank wine all day until it was time to go home.

The Sunday after Christmas, Hal had an office/client holiday party at our place, so I had to prepare hors d'ouerves and serve drinks most of the night. It was a pretty dull affair. Bry was there, but had to hang out with the kids in the basement eating party mix and drinking Pepsi (I did sneak her some booze every now and again, because it's the holidays and she's been good.) Since she's a receptionist, Julia was also there providing moral support to me, even as Hal repeatedly came up and politely reminded her she was a guest and didn't have to do anything. She just smiled her pretty little 23-year-old smile and said it was her pleasure.

I had some important matters to ask her about anyway, and as soon as we were alone, we started talking. And no, it wasn't "Are you sleeping with Hal?" because I'm still putting that one off. No, this was slightly more about me.

I told her I had had a cold a few weeks ago but got over it, but now I was starting to feel... groggy, I guess. Foggy-headed. I wasn't getting much sleep, getting up in the middle of the night and feeling tense. Certain biological parts were feeling... abnormal. And it wasn't a cycle thing either, at least not as far as I could tell. But something felt really off.

She got this wicked but modest smirk, her face blushed red, and her eyes darted around the room. "Jeez Todd... you'd think you would notice it sooner." I just stared and asked her what exactly was going on. She gave a quick laugh and looked me in the eyes saying, and this is a direct quote, "Well, the thing about that is... women have needs too."

It takes a moment to wash over me. I lean back against the kitchen counter, bracing myself. "You're joking with me, right?" She just shakes her head. "I'm 33 years old. My body... or your body... our... that body is at its peak. Hal and I have been married for a long time, and sure we're not at the same place we were when we were first married, but... we never went that long without being together. You mean you two haven't--"

"No!" I whisper-scream, "Are you kidding me? That's the last thing I want."

"I guess it's not surprising he hasn't even asked..." she smiled to herself, "I used to turn him down so often it got to where I'd always have to initiate it."

"Can't I just... take care of this myself?" I asked. Not that I haven't before, but this feeling has been driving me crazy.

Again she gives a quick laugh, "Honey, I'm a married woman. I haven't done that in years. And it's just not as much fun. But you're the one in the body, so you're free to give it a shot... I guess."

I began to feel really sick. I dropped the subject all together and got on with my night feeling just off. In the family room, there was Donna, trying to work the HD TV, but the picture was all stretched out. I snatched the remote away from her and quickly fixed it. Her husband was just trying to check the score on the Pats-Bills game.

I handed her the remote back and she just looked at me, "I had no idea you were so good with electronics, Anne-Marie."

I just sighed. "One of my many secrets."

I sleepwalked through the rest of the evening and went to bed early. When Hal came up, he asked if I was still awake. I rolled over and said yeah.

"I've been thinking. I know we haven't talked about it in a while, but if you still want me to... I think I'm ready to go through with it."

I wince. "Go through with what?"

"With the surgery. I'll do it."

I'm confused and tired, "What surgery? What are you talking about?"

"The... vasectomy."

I roll back over the other direction. "We'll talk about this later."

It had been a long, stressful day. Quite frankly, the last thing I wanted to discuss was Hal's penis. And needless to say, I did not sleep well... again.

I'd go take a cold shower, but being naked isn't a lot of fun right now.

-Todd

Todd/Anne-Marie: Sick of it all...

I got up this morning around 10:30. The windows were frosted over, Hal's side of the bed was made as usual. I sat up, and immediately felt dizzy. I had a headache that felt like I'd been hit by a Buick. My joints were aching. My nose was stuffed up. In another place, in another life, I could've just laid back and said "screw the world." But here and now, I had to get up out of that warm, comfy bed, strip off my pyjamas, shower, put on a fresh set of bra and panties and some sweats, and go grocery shopping. Hurray life.

Maybe I'm just cocky from all those years of being a healthy Canadian male. Not that I never got sick in Canada, but I was able to withstand the cold better than this. I feel like death. And I had a lot of stuff on my DayQuil-addled mind, stumbling down the grocery aisle.

I haven't talked to "Julia" in days, since our little blow-up about her kids and our return plans. She was seeming just a little too reluctant to go along with the plan, whereas I will get out of this body no matter the cost. Who cares if she was being logical? If logic existed in this universe, none of this shit would've happened in the first place!

So yeah, I'm pushing the cart down the aisles, checking off items on the list... cereal, milk, ham, roast, taco fixins... whatever. I remember that first week when I had to look through the garbage to figure out what they needed. It felt humiliating. Now it's all become so damn routine. I look around at the other sad-looking midday shoppers - mostly moms like Anne-Marie - and I think, but for a little fate, I could've been any one of them, or they me. The teenage boy stocking the shelves, the girl at the checkout aisle chewing gum, looking like she'd rather be anyplace else. You and me both, sister.

I ran into this lady Anne-Marie knows, in the coffee aisle. Donna, or something. She tells me oh, we haven't seen each other in so long, we must catch up, and blah blah. I've been to her place once or twice, particularly back when I was new at being Anne-Marie, but I've been reclusive more and more the past month or so. Not much to catch up on. What would I say? "That person almost won big on the Price is Right the other day, the teacher says I'm an awful parent, and I miss my penis." Models smile soullessly at me from the magazine racks. I wheeze a cough, and think how unappealing I must seem. No wonder Hal cheats.

Is he really? No confirmation yet. Never asked Julia, was too mad already. I've just resigned myself that he probably is, and it's weighing on my mind pretty bad. I don't know if I care for my sake, or for the kids' sake, or for Anne-Marie's own sake, but I do care. Maybe I'd like life more if I was a desirable woman like Ashlyn. As much as any of us hates his situation, it wasn't hard for me, reading her old posts, to see how she became accustomed to it, to hear her tell. I keep telling myself, Hal's problem isn't with me it's with his wife but hell, that is me, for the time being. And infidelity hurts the children because if "Anne-Marie" finds out, can she... I... just deal with it? No. It means divorce. It means this comparatively idyllic house gets chopped in half and I'll probably have to get the kids, live on alimony, or get some BS job.

There I am, thinking long term in Anne-Marie's life. That's why I don't ask, because I don't want it to be my problem. In a very literal sense, Anne-Marie's doing it to herself... (if she's doing anything at all.) Seducing her own husband, where does she get off? (In the office I suppose. Sorry, even miserable I can't resist.) It's not hard to see why she would want to exploit this situation, win her man back and whatnot... I just wish she'd think of the consequences.

I'm sick of thinking about these problems, I'm sick of all the uncertainty about my future, and I'm just plain sick.

I hate to complain too much but I think given the circumstances you'll allow it.

It's just after ten and I'm exhausted. In another place, another life, I'd be ready to go out... now I'm ready for bed.
-Todd/Anne-Marie

Todd/Anne-Marie: Turkey Day Blues...

Someday I might look back on this and laugh. I really hope so anyway, because if so, yesterday things just got really effin' funny.

Sometimes, being Anne-Marie is actually bearable. She has it made - an affluent husband who barely wants anything to do with her sexually (maybe not such a plus for an actual woman), financial security in uncertain times, two comparatively well-behaved kids (insofar as none of them are out getting arrested) freedom to live life as she pleases. Again, maybe this doesn't do much for Anne herself, but to me it's a major win... nobody seems intent on bothering me or expecting me to do things I don't want to just because of the woman I look like.

At least... until the holidays started rolling around.

I don't even like dealing with my own family, but at the Adkisson household a big family thanksgiving is a big deal. Anne's monther-in-law is coming in from Rhode Island, and Trudy and I had to collaborate with Hal's other brother's wife Jen, to create this big turkey dinner. I've gotten a little better at cooking over the last few months, to the point where I'm confident nothing I make will kill these people, but I haven't gotten so much better at dealing with Trudy.

It seems I stepped into some drama between Trudy and Anne-Marie, stemming partly from Anne-Marie's preoccupation with being Ellie's "cool aunt." Jen's actually pretty cool - close in age to Bry and I - but is too shy to fill that role. So she nervously stayed in the corner while Trudy passive-aggressively bossed me around, and I just took it, festering secretly over what a bitchy control freak she is.

At the end of the day, I just wanted to scream "THIS ISN'T MY FUCKING FAMILY" but that might not exactly play well.

It doesn't help my case that, as often as possible, I take Bry out on Saturday afternoons for coffee and guy talk. She probably sees these as being primarily about her, and sometimes they are, but mostly they're just excuses to talk about how weird it still is to use Kotex.

Then there was the other visitor complicating things, and I'm not talking about Aunt Flo (who thankfully missed the party.) I'm talking about Ms. Julia DiFrancesco, a girl I first met back in late September. I wanted to bring her up before but I guess I never got around to it.

One rainy afternoon in September I heard a knock at the door. This girl stood there, terrified and soaked. Young - maybe 21 or 22 - and quite stunning, with a good tan, slender body, and long curly brown hair (which was sopping wet and therefore very frizzy.) I figured maybe she was some other Adkisson family member I hadn't heard about yet.

"A-a-anne-M-m-marie?" she said through chattering teeth. I nodded. She asked if she could come in. I've always been wary about strangers in the house - part and parcel of being a city kid - but I'd been in such strange circumstances already I figured what did I have to lose?

"It's m-me," she said, waving off the cab in the driveway as she stepped in, clutching her arms to warm up. I looked at her uncomprehendingly, "You... who?"

"I'm... you. I'm Anne-Marie."

I just stared at her, stunned. I had so many questions I wanted to ask her and I didn't know where to begin. The most pressing thought in my mind is, "...is Ellie okay?" I don't even know why I asked, but having seen Bry's little face all that time I thought of that poor little girl trapped in a world she may have no idea about.

"She's fine..." she walked further into the house. "May I take a shower first, then we'll talk?"

I almost said "Be my guest," but stopped myself, realizing I was more her guest than anything. So I just said "Sure" and waited to hear the water running after she went upstairs. Then I just sat and thought, somewhat rocked to the core... this girl was the woman whose body I was in. Is she going to want this body back? I looked down at my cleavage - aged, a little saggy compared to her tight, nubile body. If she didn't, could I in good conscience give it to some stranger? I started to feel guilty, and responsible for some very heavy moral issues.

She came down the stairs, barefoot and wearing my - her - bathrobe. We sat down in the kitchen. With her wet hair hanging down behind her tanned, gorgeous face, I began to get a little... well let's just say I've seen Joseph W. Sarno movies begin this way. But anyway.

"What's your name?" I asked her. "I mean the name of... who you... became?" It's awkward trying to come up with vocabulary for our predicament.

"Julia..." she told me. "I'm Julia DiFrancesco and Ellie is Kalli Jackson. We - they - were students are the University of South Carolina, on vacation. After everything, we didn't think either of us could handle the life of a student, especially not Ellie, so we did the only thing we could think of... come back here."

I was wary, "What do you... uh... plan to do?"

Her plan, as it turned out, was to work for her husband as a receptionist. Ellie isn't qualified to do much (in real terms) but has been working as a weekday nanny for another rich family in the neighbourhood. Julia actually had an impressive clerical resume that Anne was going to find it hard to live up to, but she could at least do the job well enough to get by, once she got hired.

All she wanted was to make me aware she was in town, and that she would help me any way she could. After all that business, she finally asked me who I was. I gave her a G-rated version - that I was a young man from Canada - and let that just sink in.

She gave me this sad - beautiful yet very sympathetic - look and wrapped her arms around me. And she whispered, "I'm so sorry" and just... held me. I tentatively hugged her back, wondering how weird it must be to hug yourself. Then again, that was probably before I read the bits about Jean-Michel.

Before she left, I asked her, somewhat more kittenishly than I would like to, "Do you... plan to change back?" And she, standing by the door, holding the umbrella I lent her - hers, by right - gave me that sad-eyed look again, and sighed. "I don't know."

Then she was gone.

Except she wasn't, of course, and got the job. And I called her for advice whenever I needed to understand something about Trudy or the kids or Hal or my vagina or whatever, which was often enough... but I guess we never really became friends, more like a professional relationship. And not only that, but from Hal's perspective, we didn't know each other well at all, and Julia certainly wasn't his wife. So one day a few weeks ago, over dinner he says to me, "You know my receptionist Julia?"

I nearly did a spit-take, trying to figure out how to respond. "Um... sure?"

"Well I've been thinking," he says, "She's been here a few months from South Carolina, doesn't know anyone, no family here, no boyfriend or anything. What would you say if I invited her over for Thanksgiving?"

And I just gaze at him, wide-eyed, trying to figure out an in-character response. I've been pretty good at keeping the Anne-Marie character consistent off the cuff, but when something like this comes up, it really throws my game. All I can think of is how awkward, or confusing, or bizarre it might be, rather than the natural Anne-Marie response of "Sure, if she wants to." finally, I did say that, and we all got on with our lives.

So in this house yesterday, we've got all the Adkisson/McClays, including the real Julia introducing herself to family she's already known for years, including her own daughter and son. And there's me and Bryan trying not to act like buddies, or discuss our entire lives with Julia, or anything. What's that old saying? Three people can keep a secret - if two of them are dead. Or if there's a magically-imposed silence on them anyway.

And then, after dinner, while we're doing the dishes, Trudy nudges me and says, "I hope you don't think anything's going on between Hal and that girl. My brother would never do such a thing."

And the funny thing is... that thought hadn't even crossed my mind. And I just laughed and said, "Of course not," secretly kinda hoping maybe there was and wondering why I would care. It would be oddly appropriate, I think, and sweet in a really sick way. Except for the part about potentially breaking up a family.

When I realized that, I suddenly got very nervous.

Most people just have to worry about leftover turkey... not leftover lives.

-Todd/AM

Todd/Anne-Marie: Things I miss...

There was a moment over the weekend when I realized the power of the inn. You would think I would think about it constantly from the moment I get up in the morning, put on a bra and use the toilet, but that's not what I mean. We bought a ton of Halloween candy and failed to unload all of it. So temptation being what it was I found myself snacking on fun-sized Kit-Kats and Aeros.

Well it turns out, Anne-Marie has never liked chocolate. It apparently had been a long-running joke about how much she disliked the stuff. And strangely enough I found it tasting somewhat bland compared to how I used to feel when eating chocolate. But habits die hard. So when someone saw me uncharacteristically unwrapping a Tootsie roll and asking what was up, I just shrugged it off and said "...things change." And what could anybody say? As vehemently anti-chocolate as Anne-Marie was, here I am, looking like her and eating chocolate and nobody would think it's because Anne-Marie isn't who she seems.

So it got me thinking about the little ways in which my life had changed, and what I miss. I keep a written list in my nightstand drawer to remind myself why I am trying to leave this apparent life of luxury. Here's what I've got.

My penis. That's a given, right? I might as well not even list it because of how obvious it seems, but I never appreciated it until I had to leaf through a book designed for 13-year-old girls to understand my equipment.

Freedom from fashion. Simplicity is the name of the game when it comes to Men's wear. A pair of boxer shorts, an undershirt, a hoodie, some jeans, a pair of sneakers... mix and match at leisure. You should see Anne-Marie's wardrobe. It's immense. Simply choosing a pair of panties is a gargantuan task. I never appreciated a girl who mixed-and-matched her underwear until I tried to find the bra that went with the teal Calvins I put on this morning.

Being Canadian. That is to say, being surrounded by Canadians. As similar as our worlds are, there's still something of a culture shock when I am here. It's almost as significant as the shock of crossing the gender line. Almost. Then again, being American at this point in history has its advantages, given I am suddenly allowed to vote in the American election. I won't bore (or possibly alienate) any readers out there with my personal politics, but hey, I'm from Toronto. (Sidenote: Hal and I went to a Halloween party on the weekend. Somehow he convinced me to go as Sarah Palin... I guess I kinda-sorta look like her. That was an unnerving revelation since I don't see why so many people find her attractive.)

Toronto... or any city. In particular, the plethora of choices for food and entertainment, the sense of community. Not having to drive anywhere is also a bonus.

Alia. I haven't spoken to her since I left for Maine. I want to tell her how much this experience has made me appreciate having her in my life.

Youth. I'll admit it. I was a lazy, immature jerk a lot of the time. But I had potential. I still had the means to be anything I wanted. It doesn't feel like Anne-Marie can be much more than the wife of a dentist and the mother of two kids. And that's fine for some people, but me, I need that horizon. I lost ten very important years.

That said, I'm not saying there aren't benefits. Like I said, I get treated with a fair amount of freedom, I get to feel useful by doing the housework, I don't worry about money even amidst this economic crisis... and anytime I want I can touch a pair of boobs.

Every cloud has its silver lining... but every one of them has a touch of grey, to quote Garcia.

-Todd/AM

Todd/Anne-Marie: Man of the house?

Now that it's been a few months, there are fewer and fewer times when I allow myself the luxury of totally freaking out. I know I made myself sound kinda confident in my earlier posts but it's very hard to pin down exactly how mortally terrified you are when you start walking around in someone else's body, let alone one with new equipment. But I found what you might call... coping mechanisms.

One obvious one is that I took an example from Bryan. Unnerving as her attitude toward the whole thing is - how easily she accepted the whole thing (and still waiting to see if she'll show up on this blog) - I was at least able to take a cue and think "Okay, better not be the weak one." Bry's attitude that "This is what's happening and we should just go along" is annoying until it becomes comforting, once you settle down and think "I can do this."

The bigger one, though, is my prevalent belief that this is not permanent. That I will not see Anne Marie to the end of her days. That I will not be cheated out of a decade of living as Todd Casey. That I will not see Hayley and Connor raise Anne Marie's grandkids. That there is a way back. And all I have to do is kill time and accept my lot until I can get there.

One of the bigger hurdles to feeling comfort was meeting Hal. He came home a few days after I did, without fanfare and with only a cursory "How was your trip?" He was hardly as panicked as Mrs. McClay.

I thought maybe he was hiding his concern. Then I thought maybe he legitimately didn't care about his wife's wellbeing. Then I realized, he was just being himself. That's just who he is. And after 12 years of marriage that's maybe what happens.

I didn't see much of marriage as a kid. I was born out of wedlock and while they tried to make it work, it just... didn't. I tried never to be bitter but you can imagine what a warped sense of relationships I must have, particularly married ones. One by one I watched my friends' parents get divorced and usually re-married while they struggled to cope with the breakdown of their parents' lives. I guess in that sense I was lucky. Never had any delusions.

Does that mean I think Hal and Anne Marie are heading for divorce? Not in the near future - not prior to the Inn and not on my watch either. I don't intend to shake up Anne's life any more than the bare minimum given the circumstances. I just think it's a cold marriage. A comfortable one. And thankfully for me - a sexless one. I dressed and undressed myself very privately for months until I realized that after a decade plus of raising kids, these people just plain aren't doing it.

And that's fine because as curious as I might be to find out what it's all about down there (don't judge me, you're all thinking the same deep down) I'm definitely not interested in this guy. He's a nice enough man, but... he's still a man.

I say he's a "nice enough man." He's kinda quiet, taciturn. He comes home after a day of drilling teeth and just wants to have dinner, drink a beer, and watch the World Series. (PS - was glad the Phillies schooled the Rays, given their triumph over his Red Sox. New England. I'm just waiting to see what Cito Gaston does for my Jays next year. But anyway.)

So... we struck up this kind of domestic balance. I cook the food (getting better thanks for the internet) do the dishes, the laundry... he provides the house and the car and the lifestyle, and nobody bothers the other.

I figure eventually it's gotta come up. One of us will reach a breaking point and I just won't be able to put it off... but until then, it's back to back in the queen-sized bed.

Once Hal came back, I fell into this quaint little routine. I'd get up in the morning around 9 or 10, well after he'd gone to the office. I'd explore the neighbourhood a little bit to get to know my surroundings... go for a drive or a jog, get a coffee, whatever. Then by the time I'd come home, Bry would be waiting for me there. Mostly we'd play Rock Band or Guitar Hero or any of the various games the kids have. Or we'd go for a swim in the backyard... I always used to envy the kids who had a pool.

Bry, by the way, who used to be over 6 feet tall, still looks ridiculous in a 14-year-old girl's swim suit. Maybe it's just the way she carries herself. She's all boyish angles with a figure that appears to be gradually morphing into 3-dimensions... if you catch my drift.

Meanwhile I've got the opposite deal. Anne Marie's no tubbo, but her body's been around a while. Put me in a bikini and suddenly - for the first time - I'm self-conscious about love handles and cellulite, and that little belly pouch that hangs over just a bit. Hmph.

After lunch, she'd usually just lounge around while I did chores, or tried to figure dinner out, or what have you. While all this is going on, I'm maintaining my (Todd's) online presence, making all the usual arguments about movies and comics on the various boards I'm on.

Anyway, back to what I was saying at the beginning of this post... how this isn't permanent. Well after a few weeks of feeling nervous of what became of my body, I got... the call. I was very adamant I wanted to hear from the "new Todd" and when I did, I felt happier than I had since this whole ordeal began. I remember looking at the caller display on Anne's cell and seeing my own name. I nearly dropped it in the pool.

I took a deep breath and answered. "Hello...?"

"Is this... is this Todd?" asked the somewhat confused and fearful sounding voice on the other end.

I hesitated. "Yeah... it is."

A pause.

"I'm sorry, your voice..."

"Yeah, I know," I grumbled, "Who is this? Who are you really?"

Timidly he explained himself - I'll leave the details for later, suffice to say our situations are not dissimilar and we're all very eager to get back where we belong. And once that piece fell into place, I began to breathe easy. Taking stock of my life, that is, my life as Anne-Marie, I decided it's not such a bad place to visit... I just wouldn't want to live here.

To be continued...
-Todd

Todd/Anne-Marie: She said she said

It's cooled down a bit, reminding me of home. This past weekend, in Canada, was Thanksgiving, one of the few dates where I make the effort to see my mom and other family members (birthdays, Easter, Christmas, usually.) I feel bad about it because I have this reputation for being kind of aloof and tending to avoid my family. It's not deliberate, I'm just usually doing something else. Man, if they only knew how bad I feel about missing them this weekend... instead, someone else was there, being awkward and pretending to know their faces and avoid conversation (believe me, nobody will notice.) And here I was, not celebrating the non-holiday of Columbus Day.

So Bryan and I, that first day, were sitting there reading letters, getting high, and coming to terms with being "transformed." I'm here now, at the keyboard, having a pronoun problem. I keep thinking of Bry (and myself) in the abstract as "he," but when I picture the day, of course, I get this image of this puckish little girl. I've grown very accustomed to hearing her voice speaking Bryan's words. I don't want to type "She and I were sitting trying to figure things out," but, well, that's exactly what was going on. She and I were trying to figure things out.

It was a couple of days before we actually hit the road. Some of that was spent trying to confirm as a matter of fact that this was really happening and not just our imaginations. Some very uncomfortable conversations with fellow victims (which I won't retype just now) did the trick. Some of them were better off than us, some were worse. We then had to make arrangements to get to Connecticut, and write our entire lives and our understanding of the curse into easily-digested letters.

The upside, which was actually a downside, is that our lives didn't have much to them. I hated my job and was always a hair away from quitting before I went on the road. Bry is a classic moocher. Neither of us talks much to our families or has any real relationships going. The main thing was Alia, so I stressed in my letter to at least be good to her, because I intended to come back for her. I also crafted the letter so that the new Todd would feel pretty much compelled to contact me. In the meantime, I kept my online accounts afloat - establishing an e-alibi on Facebook and MSN - and developed new ones under Anne-Marie's name.

I left my luggage, laptop, and all my writings at the inn, because I felt they would be of vital importance if someone were to get into character as me. I did keep a few things. One was my iPod, because i spent a lot of time cultivating my playlists - walking away from them would basically mean walking away from Todd Casey altogether. The other was a vintage Clash t-shirt Alia got me for my birthday many years ago. She would probably notice that "I" don't have it anymore, so that when I get my body back, I can come full circle and start wearing it again. Plus, it smells like me - all the sweat and dirt and weed and Speed Stick really registers strongly in my nose. Scent, I heard in a commercial once, is the sense strongest-linked to memory.

Bry was very reluctant to leave his $1200 Digital SLR, but I convinced him it was vital to Bryan's identity and too bizarre for Ellie to just have picked up on her own.

There were other adventures in the meantime, but finally at the end of it all, and with more reluctance than I have ever known, we had to bring Ellie and Anne home.

It was a long train ride and we had a lot of time to think. I asked Bry if we were doing the right thing and she said, well, we had no choice. Anne-Marie and Ellie were basically missing persons. For all we knew there was a manhunt and we'd get found no matter what, plus we had no other place readily available. Could we take the pains to stay out, stay off the grid, and lay low? Maybe - we're resourceful enough to have done that sorta thing all summer - but a 33-year-old woman and a 14-year-old girl get a bit more attention than a couple of 23-year-old dudes. Our backs were against the wall.

I wondered if we were up to the task, and she laughed. There was no way to fail since we couldn't tell anyone the truth if we wanted to. It might be embarrassing, even gross - you know what I'm getting at there - but this is life and we're stuck. Stuck. Billions of women live their lives every day, same as men... no reason things couldn't just fall into place, she shrugged. I groaned - I didn't want things to fall into place. I wanted the same sense of control over my destiny as I always had, the open road.

I told her she was being far too calm. She said she had it all figured out, "If it can happen once, I'll bet it can be undone. It doesn't make sense that if they can change your body, they'd only do it once. Right?" It's worth noting that Bryan has always referred to "they" whenever she has a bone to pick with someone... although in this case she may be right. And I asked, what if it can't be undone? She just shrugs and says "Then we go on with these lives."

She began to get all philosophical. "Everything we've done in life... Alia, your job, the road trip... it brought us to that inn. This is the consequence of that."

I pondered it for a moment and then realized - "Did you just quote Anton Chigurh?" If you're looking for comfort, the words of the serial murderer from No Country for Old Men isn't going to really put you at ease.

But that's Bryan for you. A real deep thinker and a great guy, but kind of an asshole. I noticed she had her little knees tightly clamped together, and they were twitching. I'm no body language expert, but that girl was as nervous as me. She just didn't want to show it. I kept quiet.

Long passages of the trip were spent in silence as I stared at my reflection in the window and tried to get accustomed to the woman staring back at me. Every so often I'd forget about the tits and crotch business and just smile to see what it would look like (very forced, as it turned out.) Every moment brought us closer to our final destination, Somewhere in Connecticut.

Anne-Marie Adkisson is 33 years old and married to a Dentist named Hal. They have two kids together: Hayley, 12, and Conner, 10. I was barely even responsible for myself, and now all I could think of was how I'd have to take care of two young ones, not to mention the burden of a marriage.

By contrast, Bry is a lucky gal. He - ah, fucked up the abstract again - she is so young all her decisions are made for her. Ellie probably still has a bed time, doesn't date, gets all her meals cooked for her... the freedom of youth and the experience to enjoy it. Then again, the freedom from responsibility is basically oppression, and maybe, I thought, he'd end up feeling worse than I did. Time would tell.

We pulled up to the house late that night. All my fears and anxiety were replaced when I saw it with sheer awe. It looked like a courthouse, or the house from Fresh Prince of Bel Air. These people were well off - if there's been an economic crisis, you wouldn't know it from here. They're definitely keeping the Roman Column manufacturers busy. And their front lawn is big enough to play baseball.

For a while, I was just stunned.

And then I walked inside, flip-flops flapping against the ceramic tiles of the foyer (never ever been in a house with a foyer) echoing all around me. "Hello?" no answer. I smiled, breathtaken.

"I've arrived."

And that was the first time since the transformation I'd felt any good at all.

What happened to that feeling I'll leave for later. Laundry calls.

-Todd, alias Anne-Marie