Arthur/Penny/Arthur

Hey folks.  I'm fine, I guess.  Sorry for not posting. 

The past couple months have been the toughest in my life, I think.  If you look at a lot of the folks who post here, it's mostly folks like I was when I first came here twenty years ago:  Not competely unattached and ready to start a new life, but mostly single and young and arriving with at least some of the really important people in their lives.  It's not quite an adventure, but you can sort of deal, and maybe discover that you're not necessarily losing the important parts of what makes you yourself.  When I opened that suitcase and saw that I was not going to be Millie's mother, or Ray's wife...  That was something being ripped away from me like nothing I had experienced my previous three times at the Inn.

And I'm not doing well.  I had a lot of sleepless nights as Millie when I didn't know where the real thing was, but the past two have been borderline panic attacks.  I'm not sure why - a lot of this is things I've dealt with before and I know Millie is okay - but I've been ripped out of a life I've built, pushed back into one that in a certain way should feel right, but doesn't.  It wasn't like that for me before.

The morning I woke up as Arthur for the first time in almost twenty years, I knew right away, because it's a hell of a thing to go from an energetic 14-year-old to almost 50 and not exactly athletic.  Germy has not exactly spent the past couple decades in the gym - though maybe I wouldn't have if I hadn't inherited a former professional athlete's body and had it feel relatively natural - and I found myself pushing up from the bed rather than springing to my feet.  Something in my knee felt a little off as I felt the need to pee more than usual.  I sat, chuckled at that, and then cursed myself as my aim was momentarily off.  At least it didn't look like Germy was fleeing some sort of venereal disease.

I texted Ray and Millie, who said they'd bring donuts and coffee.  I sat at a patio and waited for them to show up, waving when they did.  They weren't quite wary as they approached, but hugging was awkward, not so much because I'm a guy, but because I evidently register as a stranger.  We didn't say anything until Millie asked if this was the real me. 

I could have said she was one to talk at the moment, but it was hardly a moment for jokes.  "It's where I started from.  Or at least, that's in here, under twenty years of time and maybe not hitting the gym as often as I did.  I'm still your mom.  I'll always be that, no matter what I look like or..."

I couldn't get it out, but Ray did.  "Or where your biology pulls you."

"Yeah."  I looked in Ray's eyes and felt the same attraction I had been fighting while I was Millie.  Maybe I was bisexual and hadn't ever had to even consider it twenty years ago, or maybe it was just inertia.  "Think you'd be up for trying, if I could stick around?"

He looked down, kind of ashamed.  "I...  I don't know.  I'd like to say I would, but we'd probably be roommates within a month, and then..."

Millie,  for her part, didn't seem to have any issues with us both being guys now, but she picked up on what I said right away.  "What do you mean, if you could stick around?"

So it was time to tell her about Lonnie. 

Leonardo "Lonnie" ----- is six.  Through no fault of his own, Germy, aka Arthur Milligan, is his father, and his mother recently died, the details of which are not important beyond that fact that she apparently got to know Germy well enough to know that she had wanted him to have nothing to do with their son.  Unfortunately, the grandmother has Parkinson's Disease, and there was really no choice but to assign custody to the father.  Germy dodged it for as long as he could, and that was apparently long enough to use the Inn as an escape hatch a second time.

Harmon, I imagine, didn't take a lot of convincing; being Penny seems to suit her just fine, more than becoming some random person, which could potentially even mean returning to her original life, as I gather nobody has settled down in it.  For what it's worth, she sent a resignation letter to the school district and hasn't returned to Boston since her stay at the Inn; I'm not sure where she is now.

I related all that to Millie, and she didn't like it when I said, no, it wasn't fair, but this kid didn't have anybody else, and I didn't know if I could live with myself if this boy wound up in the care of someone not prepared to be a good parent, or even someone who might hurt him.  She lashed out, saying that it was because he was my real kid.  I said that was absolutely not the case, and Ray was quick to jump in and defend me, pointing out that this past year was not something you do for someone you considered anything less than your child, especially considering...

I cut him off there, which naturally led to "especially considering what?" and we recovered in time to say that this was the kind of thinking that got this whole mess started.  We followed it up by affirming that we understood why she went out looking on her own and were mostly past her staying radio silent, and we honestly are, but part of going through something like this was making sure that it doesn't happen again.

Which is all true.  But we also didn't want her to feel responsible for the extra-special fucked-up bit.

Because that good-looking 19-year-old kid that I thought Harmon had become?  Not random.  It's Jeremy Boyd's biological son, the one Nell said was her reason for staying Jeremy way back when I first became her.  It seems like in the intervening years, (s)he and Daisy had parted, so when Daisy "won a contest" for a vacation back East, Nell/Jeremy didn't realize where they were going, and only felt a little unnerved when they came back late, because even we aren't exactly immune to whatever makes people accept "anything but a cursed inn" as an explanation.  To say he's pissed is an understatement.

And maybe that's why I've been so depressed.  Lonnie is a great little kid, and I've got to work extra hard being a good father to him because Germy has obviously given Grandma Della good reason to be suspicious of me, which means I can't uproot him from the Bay Area and go to Boston right away, so I'm trying to mend things with Millie long-distance.  It's hard, even though she's really feeling my absence now that she's herself again and back in her old room and school and is really trying to make sure I stay a part of her life and also being there for Ray, which is more than a girl her age should have to do.  It's just...

Well, it's just that every parent I know has said that they'd give up everything for their kids, and in most cases I absolutely believe that's true.  Actually doing it is a hell of a thing, though, harder than you can imagine, even if something in the back of your head keeps trying to tell you that this is what you should be (although, fuck "should be" in almost every way).  But doing that while realizing that there are folks out there who not only won't, but will literally steal their kids' future...  It leads you to despair, and there are times when I'm almost grateful that there's this little boy who needs me, because that responsibility keeps me away from doing anything drastic, which is an unfair burden on him, even if he doesn't know he's carrying it.

-Arthur, Penny, and now Arthur again.

Arthur/Penny/Millie: What Is WRONG with These People?

(Before starting on the rest, I'm really glad to hear that Cary is on the mend!  I only just met him last year, but he's a good guy and Zee is great too!)

My instinct as a writer all the way back to starting this blog is to set the scene and tell the story and maybe hit a climax, but let's face it, a lot of people bail after a paragraph or so if you don't make your point up front, so I'm going to just say it:  That wasn't Harmon in this room, I don't know where she is with my identity of the past two decades, and if anyone can help me find out, I'd appreciate it like you wouldn't believe.

Okay, so let's get back to the beginning.

Ray, Millie, and I came up on the first train Wednesday, when it was just starting to really heat up; even if we hadn't planned on a heat wave, it was kind of nice to get out of the city and a teeny bit north, and none of us were going to let the person who needs to be at the Inn be alone.  We found a nice little sublet that cost an arm and a leg for the whole month of July, so even though I'd be going back to the Inn on my own at the end of the day, my family would be nearby and we could hit the amusement park or go on day trips as a group.  We'll look like a single dad with his college-aged son and younger daughter, but we've been through weirder.

We stopped there to drop off some of the gear and then hopped on bikes to ride to the Inn, where I put my Millie suitcase on the dresser before finding it odd that Harmon had apparently brought some bag i didn't recognize and left it.  Wanting to get a head start, it unzipped it and stared in incredulity at the men's clothing inside.  There was a worn wallet loose among the strapped-down compartments, and suddenly felt light-headed when I opened it and saw the license. 

Ray caught me as I buckled, then looked down at the license.  "What sort of sick joke is this?"

One of the garments, smaller than the rest, caught my eye, and I pulled it out a t-shirt from a 2002 writing workshop.  "I don't think it is.  I think this is real.  Harmon made the reservation, but frigging Germy was the one who stayed here."  I gave a bitter chuckle.  "I'm going to be Arthur Milligan again."

"WHAT?"  Millie went completely white and rushed over to inspect the wallet.  "No!  We'll find Harmon and get him to fix this!  We've gotta!"

"We'll certainly try, but the most important thing is getting you back where you belong.  And that means I've got to stay here before you do."

I was surprisingly calm as I said this; I don't know if non-parents would understand this, but it was just that simple, just as it was last year:  This was what I needed to do to protect my kid, so I was going to do it, and I'd figure out the details later.

Millie was not calm, she was crying like the 14-year-old girl she was behind her grown man's face, hugging me tight like she was going to stop me from doing something.  "It's all my fault!  If I hadn't...  I'm so sorry!"

I put my hands on her face and made her look at me.  "Hey.  You didn't make the greatest decision, but that doesn't mean it's your fault!  Jeremy Boyd and Harmon Kendall are selfish people, and they almost certainly would be doing something like this whether you came here or not, and at least we all know who we really are rather than someone having a stranger in their house and not knowing it."

"But if I'd just asked!"

Ray patted her back.  "Then we would have either tried to come up with a story which you'd believe, but it wouldn't have worked, because we couldn't even convincingly lie to you about the Easter Bunny, or we would have told you the impossible truth and you'd have been insulted.  You would have wound up here anyway, only angrier at us and maybe without someone who seemed to have your best interests at heart."

She let go of me to wipe her eyes, and I let her step back.  "This sucks so much."

"Yeah.  But we can handle it.  Now, let's get out our laptops.  Your dad will see if Harmon did something dumb like buying a plane ticket with my credit card, I'll try and contact my friend Jessie and see if she can help figure out what's going on, and maybe you can contact your 'girlfriend' and see if they noticed something specifically strange.  And then...  Well, and then we'll take a break and have a nice dinner and make sure we don't waste any of our vacation together, okay?"

Millie allowed that it was okay, and we got to work.  So far, no luck, and the Inn's filling up, but we haven't given up.

-Arthur/Penny/Millie

Arthur/Penny/Millie: It happened!

Got a photo of Harmon flexing in his underwear this morning, and I suppose that I should just be glad that he thought twice before deciding he doesn't want to start a new life with a 14-year-old girl going to the cops because of a dick pic, which Millie and I would have been tempted to do, because it seems reasonably certain he's going to keep that life rather than roll the dice again.  He says he won't, but he's selfish, and I suppose I should feel lucky that he didn't find my life too comfortable, which may have been entirely down to me, Ray, and Millie making it clear we didn't want him.  If he'd just landed in someone like Penny with a family that didn't know what was up? Entirely possible he figures Penny is older than Alicia, but in good-enough shape until he decides to go to the Inn again, with teacher/writer suiting his temperament better than flight attendant.

Anyway, that's a huge load off my mind.  Ray, Millie, and I are off to get bagels to celebrate. 

- Arthur/Penny/Millie

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Arthur/Penny/Millie

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- Arthur/Penny/Millie

Arthur/Penny/Millie: So Happy and Furious

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Despite myself, I snickered.  "Griff?"

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

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

Her eyes went wide.  "You know Ande?"

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

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

"Used to be a guy too, yes."

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Penny/Millie

Arthur/Millie/Penny: Jumpy

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

- Arthur/Penny/Millie

Arthur/Penny/Millie: I Need Another Vacation

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Arthur/Penny/Millie

Arthur/Penny/Millie: A Christmas Card!

The big news first - we got a Christmas card from Millie!  Ray and I were kind of paranoid about whether it was the real deal at first, because one of his current cases is an identity theft thing and we would be very easily catfished in this situation.  Fortunately, we've got some of Millie's handwriting to compare, and it looks the same, albeit bigger.

It doesn't really say anything that helps us find her, except that she's "visiting family" for Christmas and the downtime is really making her miss home.  It also means we can't tell much from the postmark, since she's not where she usually is. 

It was kind of a relief, though, because Christmas has been a lot of going through the motions, as Ray, Harmon, and I didn't really feel like shopping, but Ray and I have friends who like hitting the holiday fairs with us, and Millie is still a kid, albeit a teenager (or "tween", I guess), which means her friends are very excited but there's a lot of eye rolling at what they get, so we kind of did it anyway.  I wound up doing a lot of shopping for Millie saying I was shopping for friends, and kind of hoping she won't mind if it's lightly used when she got back, and also for Ray and Harmon. 

Christmas morning was kind of strange, obviously, because none of us wanted to act things out for the others, but Ray did get me a couple things, and then there was Harmon.  It would seem rude not to get her anything, but the things she's been dropping hints for are outfits and accessories, because apparently her time as Alicia has her thinking I haven't really been making the most of what I have.  We try to make it clear that this is kind of inappropriate, as she may not be able to take it with him, but she shrugs out off, saying you've got to live for today.  I've mostly gotten her books and such anyway. 

We've also spent the last week splitting the work of grading midterms, which had been interesting.  I'm a lot more sympathetic to some of what the students do that would probably have rubbed me wrong a year ago, and we both have different skills when it comes to spotting when students use AI.  It's kind of an uneasy truce situation right now, because she's discovering that junior high will wear you down, no matter how energetic, and also groaning about communicating with my editor and setting up signings for the new book.  I think she thought that school vacation was going to be vacation for her as well, but, ha!

Still, heard from my daughter, so I can't get too upset.

-Arthur/Penny/Millie

Arthur/Penny/Millie: Missing Date Night

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

-Arthur/Penny/Millie

Toby/Dunia: A Much Longer Trip Than I Expected

So... Hi.  I'm afraid that I don't have any sort of introduction where I'm just me saying what I'm doing in Maine.  I kind of didn't even realize this place had a blog attached until after I became this girl. 

It's this sort of thing common, or is it all about the curse or whatever?  I've never really traveled much, or at least not to cities.  We used to go to some of the closer National Parks when I was a kid, but Ma had to sell the camper after the cancer took Dad, and even if there had been money we were never really sure there'd be a job to come back to if we took time off.  I didn't really think about it much, though, I guess because I never had it to miss and there weren't a whole lot of kids in my high school who were going on European vacations.

There were some folks with money around, though their kids went to private schools.  I guess Lambert was one of them.  I didn't know him before I answered the ad; he must've been a couple years ahead of me anyway.  He bought a car on eBay, and since he never liked to fly, he put something in a local Facebook group looking for someone to drive to Bangor and back with him.  Beat the hell out of my real job, especially since they were cutting hours due to the market for soybeans drying up or something.  He seemed all right and I guess he figured I could be trusted with his car on the drive back, so it was a done deal pretty quick.

We stopped at the Inn the night before driving up the coast - Lambert found it online and apparently the last two-week block of the year was an especially good deal for when you didn't necessarily know when you'd be in and out.  We got there on Monday, crashed for the night, and then started for Bangor in the morning.  We spent a couple hours after lunch inspecting and test-driving the Porsche - well, I kind of stood around for that - and then I was back in the BMW for the ride back.  We got dinner at a restaurant on a boat in Portland before stopping at the Inn for the night.

I was awoken by a high-pitched scream, bolting up in bed and looking on the other side of the room where there was a topless woman holding her breasts.  It was clearly the same room we'd been in last night - Lambert's stuff was on the end table - and I was a little fuzzier from the previous night's beers than I should have been, so I asked who she was.

"I'm Lambert Allen - who the fuck are you?"

"It's me, Toby!"  That when I noticed my voice didn't sound right in my ears and my hair was long enough for some  to be in my eyes.  "Uh, at least I think I am."  Hung over enough to go check, I stood from my bed and walked across the room to the bathroom and looked in the mirror.  "How in the heck?"

As you can tell from the subject line, there was a girl in the mirror, about my age, but I was shorter.  Not like super-short - I was six-foot-two and lost about six inches or so.  It made the t-shirt I'd been wearing really loose, although I could see a vague shape of breasts and nipples under it.  I was kind of surprised my boxers hadn't fallen down, but my butt was enough to hold it up.  I guess that may go with being Latina - my skin wasn't quite black but a pretty dark brown.  I pulled the neckline out to look down and then felt inside my boxers - I was all girl.

It woke me up and I ran back into the bedroom, where Lambert was pulling a suitcase out from under his bed and opening it.  He said "you have got to be shitting me" as he lifted the flight attendant's uniform that was on top out.

I did the same, only the top layer on mine was a letter "to the new Dunia Cortes".  It described the Inn's spell, and laid out a bit about the life I was inheriting.  Shes my age, 23, from the Miami area, Cuban-American although it was her grandparents that came from Cuba as children as opposed to someone more recent.  She had just been hired as a flight attendant and was expected to shadow veteran Alicia Polawski, but wound up following her to Maine when she wouldn't cut vacation short.  She lives with her father in "Little Havana" and has a boyfriend, but Luis is in the Army and stationed overseas.  She's become a retired truck driver in Phoenix, which feels as crazy as me being her.

Lambert's letter filled in some blanks; it turns out that Alicia Polawski used to be an college professor and a guy, but he got bored and decided to move on, saying the new Alicia could keep her life or not and he didn't care (she didn't care?).  He also seemed to have invited Dunia to join him specifically because it didn't look like there were going to be 13 people to trigger everything otherwise.  This Harmon guy sounds like a piece of work. 

If there were any people who has been through this before, I didn't meet them, aside from the hot dog vendor who said the thing that freaked me out the most, that there was nobody staying at the Inn after us until spring, so our lives and identities would be in a sort of limbo until then.  He said it's not so bad, because we'd have first dibs on our room and explaining not being around is easier than fixing a mess someone else makes of your life, but that's almost right months!  What's my Ma going to do without me, to start? 

Lambert seems to be more in a daze than I am.  He thought he might go home anyway, but apparently Alicia looks a lot like his last couple stepmothers and his dad is on the prowl again.  He also really doesn't like flying, and I almost wonder if it's bad enough for him to quit Alicia's job ahead of her next shift and try to live on his credit cards until then.  I'm not going to do that - this is apparently Dunia's dream job and she seems nice enough - although there's a pretty big handbook to study in the next week or so.

(It's a lot!  It looks simple enough on TV and in the movies, but I'm already afraid of screwing up the details or having to give someone CPR in midair!)

What he is sure of is that he's not leaving his new Porsche behind.  One of the coupons in the flyer that pointed us to Cary's hot dog truck and this blog is for a place that offers long term parking and storage, but he says there's no way he's leaving his new baby in some beach town that empties out for the winter.  He suggested we just do what we had been planning to do, me driving the BMW and him driving the Porsche, just south on Route One rather than west to North Dakota, but i said that I sure as heck wasn't going to get pulled over driving someone else's car as a Latina woman, so he reluctantly decided to park that one for the winter.  It's probably a good thing we initially packed pretty light, because it's not like the little sports car has  the trunk space to handle four people's luggage if Lambert and I had packed like Dunia and Harmon/Alicia.

It's weird as heck.  I'm sitting in the passenger seat of a really expensive car, and every time I look down rather than forward, I see how dark and slender my arms and legs are, and I've definitely got a figure even if my pink t-shirt doesn't show the boobage that Lambert's top does (we were not left a lot of clean clothes, and I really struggled to pull these shorts onto my big new butt this morning).  When we do get to Miami tomorrow, some guy is going to think I'm his daughter, and then I'm going to have to start working on airplanes starting next Wednesday despite having barely been out of North Dakota before.  I'm kind of tapping this out on my phone just so that I'm not staring at my body or Lambert (he's a little older, but pretty sexy) or talking in our new voices, something to do, and maybe find out if we're doing the right thing taking our stuff along to our new homes.  What I've seen of the entries here, folks usually just leave things there, but maybe not for months.

Maybe this will be my only post because I'll be too busy soon enough.  We'll see.

-Toby/Dunia

Arthur/Penny/Millie: Ms. Lincoln

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Daryl/Zee: You Would THINK This All Counted for Something!

I still think of myself as pretty young, because not only does Jonah/Krystle have a point about your self-image kind of freezing as you were the first time you went to the Trading Post, but I was Magda for four years, and even after almost two years as Zariyah "Zee" Andrews, I still know what it's like being past menopause, feeling a little worn down, and having people look askance at you and your younger boyfriend.  I've been feeling like I imagine a young woman feels.

Except, well, I'm not, entirely.  When I talk to my "mom", she asks if I'm ever going to give her grandchildren.  I've started wearing reading glasses on occasion.  Younger people in the office say I look good "for my age".  And, I admit, when I saw that Jonah's boyfriend had proposed, it kind of hit me that I had been with J.T. for over six years and we hadn't really talked about it.  Well, we kind of had, but we'd more talked about talking about it - this is my fourth face, after all, and before I got it we kind of needed to be able to uncouple and recouple without a lot of fuss.  It hasn't been that way for a while, though.

I started to fret about it with a girlfriend, being vague about some things and trying to come up with "equivalent lies" for others, and she pointed out that I had, from the sound of it, made the first move throughout our relationship, so maybe that was just our vibe.  It felt like a really obvious thing when she put it like that; after all, I'd been the guy and he was Elaine when we met, I had gone to him when I was Elaine, had made the huge gesture to let fate decide if I should get another body, moved to his city (twice!), and sought out this younger shape myself.  He had gone along with what I wanted and was ready for, and it wasn't just dropping hints.  I was going to have to ask him.

So I went to a jeweler, let them think that I was proposing to a girlfriend, and bought a pair of matching engagement rings, both with small, kind of subtle diamonds.  We both wear jewelry, though it's more often just an earring or a pinky ring for him and I'm not a lot fancier.  Yesterday afternoon, I got the call that it was finished, and I told my co-workers that I'd be knocking off early to pick it up, and would check in later in the evening.  I got the rings, headed back to the apartment, and smiled a bit as I heard the noises from the bedroom.  This is going to sound stupid, but J.T. has been on this Euro-sleaze kick lately, "research" for a film that thought it would be fun to cast the former teen idol as the svengali figure, but also because they're kind of dumb fun, which is why I didn't think anything of opening the door and asking what he was watching.

Only to see him fucking Harmon Keller-slash-Alicia Polawski-slash-Harmony Kelton on our bed.

He was on his back and she was riding him cowgirl, so he saw me come in and pulled his hands from her breasts and tried to push himself away, and she looked over her shoulder and smirked, nonchalantly pulling away from my boyfriend's cock, picking up her uniform and slipping it on over her head, then grabbing her high heels but not bothering with her underwear as she used her other hand to grab the roller bag from the corner of the room.  She blew him a little kiss, mouthing "call me", then favored me with a quiet "bye mom" as she sauntered to the door and then the elevator.

As Magda, I'd given a probably-reasonable but probably also unhealthy amount of thought to what I would do if J.T. ever cheated on me, and the answer turned out to be cool anger.  As he reached for his boxers, I stepped on them so he couldn't pick them up off the floor and stared downward.  "All the actresses and models you work with, the girls who had a crush on you as kids, all the other women in fucking Manhattan, and you do this with fucking Harmon Keller?"

I was apparently angry enough that he feared I would do something violent, because he moved his hands to cover his shriveling, now semi-erect dick.  "Honey, it's not like that!  I mean, yes, Harmon can kind of be a pain, but she's like us, and was nervous about embracing this part of womanhood, so when we met while she was doing an audition for something while I was shooting in the same building, she asked for some pointers, and--"

"She was at an audition?  I talk to Magda, asshole, and I know she hasn't been trying to get into show business beyond her YouTube thing for a year and half!  How long has this been going on?"

He repeated the sound "I" a lot.

"It started while I was still Magda, didn't it, and she was me but with a perfect ass and nothing sagging and buttering you up about how she still wasn't sure she knew what she was doing but you were such a good teacher and nobody else would understand, didn't it?"

He lowered his head.  "Yes."

"And you probably ate it all up, didn't you?  And you know what, I'll bet she's been pushing you to do stuff that made it more likely you'd get caught, right?  She's hated me ever since I told her I'd be moving out of that apartment in Oakland any more and probably figured blowing up the thing that took sabotaged her easy little life would be good revenge."

Apparently suggesting that she wasn't primarily into him was the thing that would get him to react.  "Honey, it's not about you--"

I leaned in.  "It's about me even if the bitch didn't mean it to be.  Do you not understand that I started completely new lives twice for you?  That the only time I've talked to my original family in six years was at Elaine's wedding, and that was just small talk from a former co-worker?  That instead of Magda, I could have become somebody who wouldn't make it through the winter?  All so you don't have to sacrifice one bit of your comfortable situation!"

"Look, I never asked you to do any of that!"

"Oh, but you let me, and said how lucky you were to have someone who loved you that much!  And this is how you repay me, going behind my back with that asshole!"  Angry, I walked over to a closet, pulled out a suitcase, and started putting some clothes into it.

His expression shifted a little, like I sometimes saw at work from someone who figured I'd left myself open.  "Come on, let's talk about this!  Where are you going to go?"

"It's New York, there are hotels.  Not like I can exactly crash with Magda, is it?"

"Come on, you said yourself, we've got so much invested in this!"

I turned around.  "I said I have a lot invested in this.  You, apparently, just have a couple of closets!"

I didn't wait for a response and took about the same path Harmon had toward the elevator, and realized that I didn't even really have a travel app on my phone on the way down - J.T. had taken care of any vacations we took, and the couple of times I've traveled for work, the office handled it.  I wound up just looking for hotels on Google Maps, which I suppose is fine, but probably cost me.

Anyway, this is my second night in this room, and I'm not sure what to do.  J.T. has left a few voice mails and text, but I feel like he should be trying harder to get in touch with me?  Is that just crazy woman brain, crazy guy brain, or me knowing just how central this relationship is and expecting it to be valued similarly?

-Zee?

Harmon Keller/Alicia Polawski: "Harmony" and other reinventions

I have received several notes via this blog asking if the "Harmony Kelton" credited in several recent short films is me, and, yes, she is.  Apparently a Polish name sounds too much like a Russian one in the current environment, so the person representing me to casting directors suggested a stage name.  I pointed out both that it could be said to sound Ukrainian by the same misplaced logic and that "______ with Alicia" had not particularly see its numbers drop over the past year, but once the opportunity to forge a new identity as an actress presented itself, it did intrigue me.  My first choice, "Alicia Harmon", may have been wiser since I could simply stop using the Eastern European surname on by videos, has apparently already been registered with various unions.  This, at least, had the benefit of amusing me.

I am moderately surprised that I am doing such without necessarily thinking about how it improves the "Alicia Polawski" identity as a commodity.  As mentioned in my last post, almost exactly two years ago, I did not plan to stay in this life very much longer, and had only done so because the Covid-19 pandemic had closed the Inn.  But, somehow, that extra year seemed to make more things my default state.  All those tedious things done to maintain this body's appearance to make it a more attractive product are now habit.  Planning and shooting new videos does not quite scratch the same itch as publishing a paper, but the broader base of people who appreciate it makes up for that some.

It's odd that I actually get some enjoyment out of all that, but then, perhaps not.  Every once in a while, I will search the name of a former colleague and see that, in their retirement, they have taken up woodworking or English soccer fandom or some other thing.  I, evidently, have chosen to be a stewardess and YouTuber in my retirement.  It's not so odd, perhaps - many of them have "downsized" to smaller homes, while I live in an apartment with the current Magda; others spend a great deal of time traveling, as do I; a fair number of them spend their free time pontificating on Facebook, while I make videos.

(It amuses me that my many colleagues who are likely more or less what they appear may not be so different from older men in their behavior.)

It is becoming somewhat more difficult to maintain this life in the carefree manner of a hobby, however.  Despite the disciplinary issues that the original Alicia had, my maintaining my position through the pandemic while many others found new work has made me the senior attendant on some flights with talk of being promoted to purser, which would make this a career rather than simply a job I stayed in out of convenience, and I do not believe I want that.  It is one thing to shoulder some responsibility as one travels, and reap the benefit of how one's scarf and miniskirt triggers a fetish in many, but I cannot see how being in this business for as long as I was in academia would be similarly rewarding.

Thus, I have begun pivoting toward being on camera as opposed to being on flights.  The parts I have gotten as of yet have not been much more challenging than the work I performed for Jordan - tight and scanty outfits worn in the background, breathy double entendres spoken to obvious stand-ins for the filmmakers - but that suits me well enough at the moment.  One's body is a depreciating resource, especially as a young woman, one may as well, especially if that brings experience that will be useful later.  As some have noticed, that has extended to a little bit of nudity, but what of it?  If I later find having those clips out on the web mortifying, the Inn is still out there, and I have begun anew before.  I can at least make a clear decision on that, while some of the ladies doing the same are removing their clothing far more impulsively.

-Harmon Keller, aka Alicia Polawski, aka Harmony Kelton

Daryl/Zee: What a Wedding!

Not mine, although I was wondering if maybe J.T. would do something romantic and get down on one knee at some point.  Not in a way that would upstage Elaine and new-Daryl, but maybe back at the hotel, so that I could show a ring off at the Inn-people-only breakfast the next morning.  You would think he'd be ready, given that we've been dating each other in multiple shapes since before the pandemic, so it's pretty clear we're compatible and can weather a lot.  But, then again, I suppose there's nothing that would stop me from proposing, considering I was the guy in this relationship when it started.  Not sure how that would work, though - do I go out, buy a ring, and then kneel to pop the question, holding out the little box so he can take it out and put it on my finger?  Maybe there's stuff about girls proposing on YouTube or something.

But, hey, this past weekend was not about me - it was Elaine and "Dareleanor", who has done pretty well with my life even without landing Elaine.  They coincidentally wound up taking contracts with the same company, Elaine asked him if he recognized her, and she explained how the original Daryl (me) lived her life for a while and they both started gushing, excited to have someone to talk to.  That Eleanor didn't even blink about staying in her new life once she realized that nobody wanted it back even though she'd been a white woman says something about just how completely they clicked, and they apparently didn't feel the need to wait once they figured that out.

I came out to Chicago a few days before J.T., in part because Dareleanor wanted some help with the more far-flung relatives that he hadn't met but whom my mother said had to be invited.  Someday I'll talk about how it wasn't just falling for J.T. that convinced me to leave my life behind - there are a lot of complicated feelings there, so Dareleanor and I decided not to try and do a "major life event lets you tell the truth" thing with them while things were going well - but he just needed a whole lot of information supplied on short notice, which I was able to help with.

He looked good in his tux, and Elaine looked amazing in her dress.  She found some time to hang out with me, although it was kind of weird:  I've been both of them, but only barely met either.  I'm important to them, because without me they would never have met, but I'm kind of like a storm that shut down the airport while they were in the bar waiting for different flights or something like that, an outside force-of-nature that you're glad happened but don't necessarily think well of.

It was also kind of fun to have some other Inn folks around as part of the wedding.  J.T. looked damn good in his tux, and he's famous enough that there were some murmurs running through the reception:  How do Elaine and Daryl know him?  Oh, they don't, he's with Zee.  Well, who is this Zee - I've never met her!  Although, they thought, maybe I did at some point, because she seems to know all our names!  I met most of them in my original life, when I was dating J.T./Elaine, and then in the brief time I was Elaine (I went to Marisa's wedding!), but none of them knew Zee.  They probably just assumed I had a better memory than average for casual acquaintances, which is actually true and helpful when you're parachuting into other people's lives.

Aside from that, Cary came with Krystle/Mackenzie (who gave me a look when I called her "Mackrystle" that suggests I not call her that to her face again), and the hug Elaine gave him must have made the actual father of the bride jealous.  She also gushed over how much Krystle had grown in the past few years and winked at what a pretty young woman she'd become, laughing when the apparent red-headed teen said it was a relief that she could pull off the dress she was wearing.  Some of my younger cousins danced with her and it was kind of funny because Krystle hasn't forgotten her first life and they were not expecting a 16-year-old white girl with freckles from Maine to have the moves she does.  There must be some fun videos where she is just this crazy white-and-red spot in the middle of all the Black teenagers.

I mentioned that to her when we all got together for a Sunday Inn Veterans brunch, and she laughed, saying she hoped nobody was watching that and asking whether she'd ever been on a pole.  Surprisingly, that was kind of the highlight of the thing, because we didn't actually have that much to talk about.  It wasn't a waste of time, because even if you've been in a life long enough to make it yours and not think about going back or worry about screwing something up, it's kind of a relief to know you won't have to come up with a weird explanation or remember a previous lie in a conversation.

J.T. and I stayed in Chicago for another couple days after the wedding, revisiting places we knew from our own time here, whether as Daryl or Elaine. which was fun if kind of surreal.  One restaurant was just as good as I remembered it, but that the owner who always knew everybody's name had never met me was sad.

Then, in a crazy coincidence, Harmon/Alisha was our flight attendant on the way back to New York!  It's not entirely surprising - (s)he's relocated there, back to crashing with the new Magda, who is apparently more willing to act the mother while asking little of her "daughter", and this is apparently a better place to be part of influencer/YouTube/Instagram culture than Oakland (on top of there not being much chance to transfer to L.A.) - but definitely a bit surreal to know that the woman with the short skirt and tight top who was assigned to making sure the folks in first class were satisfied used to be a top economist.

-Zee

Daryl/Zee: I can hardly believe this is FINALLY me

Of all the folks posting on this blog, I suspect that Jordan is the only one who really gets how nice it is to wake up in the Inn, look in the mirror, and feel like things are finally right, even if being white was easier in a lot of ways.  Two nights ago, I went to sleep as Magda for the last time, having intending to be awake to watch my body change in the mirror, but one's mid-fifties are no joke, and I eventually flopped down on the bed, only to wake up, see the sun on my darker legs, and suddenly feel energized to bounce up and run into the bathroom.

I'd seen the face already, but it was great to be able to make it smile in the mirror; this may be my fourth face, but I don't know that you ever get used to this.  It twirled my hair, thinking I'd probably braid it, because while it's not super-nappy, it's also not the fine, silky stuff they make wigs out of, so it would take a lot more combing than Magda's did for the same effect.  I said a couple test sentences, and my voice felt a little closer to right.  "Hi!  I'm Zariyah Andrews!  Call me Zee!"

Though I'd grown an inch and a half, it wasn't enough to make the shorts and tee I had slept in as Magda feel tight.  Heck, with the weight off my chest, it was probably a wash up top.  Not that I'm flat-chested now, but Magda had always been busty and had a kid besides, so being perky maybe didn't look quite so impressive, although I remembered from being Elaine that you can do a lot with the right bra.  My legs and butt looked pretty good, and a quick look inside the shorts indicated nothing unexpected.

(I feel bad about reducing this to a bunch of body parts, but apparently four years isn't quite enough not to be waking up a new woman by taking inventory of the sort of thing guys look for)

Soon after that, folks started yelling, so I threw some daytime clothes on and went to help folks out.  After that, it was the obligatory trip to Cary's hot dog truck.  I must have been smiling like an extra-special goofball or maybe nobody else orders a Chicago-style dog - or maybe both - but he sort of held it in the air for a second, considering what a fool he'd look like if asking "Daryl?" was the wrong call, before I busted out "call me Zee!" for the first real time.

He told me I looked really good, and I thanked him, and then he did me the favor of asking how dropping twenty years overnight felt because I wanted to say it was great, thank you very much, without acting like I pitied him for taking those years back after his time as Elaine.  Us having both had the same identity at different times gave us a bit more room to talk about how things were going with the original (and never being anyone else again) Elaine.  She and the guy living as me found each other and are getting married next spring, which is crazy, especially when you think that neither of them were using those names the last time "Daryl & Elaine" was a thing.

Anyway, he seemed genuinely happy that this had finally worked out for me.  I was planning to take over this life a year ago, but then the original Zee's father died, and even if it didn't mean much to the last person living that life, being in it meant responsibilities she couldn't get out of without feeling awful, so we put everything off a year.  I haven't posted about it because I didn't want to jinx this time, which feels stupid but I can't exactly say that there's no chance of jinxes being real, can I?

I spent most of yesterday afternoon making sure that new-Magda would be in good shape - doing laundry, buying a couple new underwear sets, finding a spot where you could print things out so that she had a bunch of maps and diagrams (and making sure they were all stored in her phone), attaching names to a bunch of people at the airport.

There was also a big section in the binder on Harmon/Alicia, more than I might have expected a year ago, but fake family's fake family, and maybe the new Magda would want to spend more time with him.  We never really got on, but ever since I got my own place in Flushing in preparation for this whole switch a year ago, he's kind of made himself at home there whenever his schedule takes him to New York, because after all, Magda wouldn't expect her daughter to stay in a hotel or crash pad, would she?  We aren't actually roommates that often - I still stayed over at J.T.'s a lot - but, we do go through the motions of playing mother and daughter more than we used to.

In fact, she was there when I got into town this morning, and you'll pardon if I switch pronouns up, but you would have to look very hard to see a man eligible to collect social security in the 27-year-old woman sitting on my couch in a miniskirt and a top that was little more than a bra, feet on my coffee table in high-heeled knee-high boots, hair back in a ponytail, barely looking up at me from her phone (where she was probably looking to see if anybody had tagged photos of her from the night before) as I came in using a spare key.  There's something about her that I don't like, maybe because I feel like it's a reflection of me switching lives for my own ends and not looking back.

That and the dismissive compliments, like "yes, I guess that's at least a lateral move" upon looking at me, which probably wasn't actually racist, but sort of felt that way, like being younger and taller and tighter maybe didn't entirely compensate for not being white anymore (I'm not proud that I've worried about that myself).  I shrugged it off and said I was going to take a shower and a nap, because I'd wound up taking the train after a flight or two was canceled.

It hit me as I saw myself in the bathroom mirror that my new face didn't match what I was expecting in this place - by now I expect the Inn to be random, I guess - and I started thinking about what I'd like to keep from this apartment/phase of my life to bring into the next one.  Should I want to bring more mementos, or physical things, than I was planning?  Given that J.T. and I figure to pick right back up where we left off it doesn't seem like I should be leaving as clean of a slate.

Of course, to do that, he's got to "meet" Zee, which is why I've spent an hour or so after getting up from my hap working on my hair and make-up and making sure I chose just the right outfit so that nobody would be surprised when this "tourist" catches his eye at the bar tonight.

It's funny - I've been with him for longer than I have been with any girl, but we've switched our shapes so often that it doesn't necessarily feel like that.  Heck, I almost wonder if we'll start joking about it if we hit a rut in a couple of years.

But let's not get ahead of ourselves - tonight, I'm seeing a play and finding out what these taste buds think of gin!

-Zariyaryl (Hmm, maybe not)

Harmon Keller/Alicia Polawski: Assets

The obvious puns that come with my trying to ascertain the value of Alicia's identity are crude, but fitting.  My current measurements are enviable, or desirable, depending upon one's perspective, but how does one properly value them?  I began asking this not hypothetically, but practically - I planned to use relinquishing this shape to one for whom it perhaps came more naturally in order to both start the next phase of my life in a more financially stable situation and to perhaps have more ability to select that next phase rather than have it happen randomly.  One might not believe that the Inn is a marketplace, but it is, much as any place where money is exchanged for a product is a marketplace.  It is simply a highly irrational one:  Most people who arrive at the Inn for the first time have no idea what they are actually purchasing, while the vast majority who return put such a high value on returning to their previous situations that they fail to weigh any other factors at all.

There are those who do treat the Inn as a marketplace, though getting in touch with them can be difficult and the data one gathers scant enough that it becomes difficult to build a model.  Youth, as one might imagine, is the primary variable; though few of the people I have surveyed admit to seeking immortality per se, they will when pressed say that they want as much time as possible should circumstances prevent them from later revisiting, aside from the physical robustness that correlates with youth.  Financial stability is high up there as well, although not so much as one might expect - those who are concerned with it can liquidate assets and place them in a numbered account, after all.  It is a far greater negative influence - nobody wishes to be poor - than positive one.

Sex complicates matters - by and large, there's a noteworthy bias toward male identities being more valuable, at least in this market.  It's not hard to understand why; the biological nuisances and reductions in social status on average can certainly be frustrating.  But appearance can cause great variance, as can things like relationships, real and parasocial alike, more so than men.

"Alicia" is rather well-equipped on those accounts, now.  Although this particular silhouette has never been the one I favored among female companions, I cannot deny that its rounded bosom and buttocks are certainly able to grab another person's attention, particularly when I made an effort to showcase them.  I was, admittedly, ashamed of having this form when I first started living Alicia's life, but over my time as her, it's become easier.  What's the harm of showing some cleavage or using some high heels to accentuate your gait, if it makes men (and women!) more attentive?  One must learn how to set boundaries without actually sounding like one is ruling anything out, but I feel I have done fairly well by that.  Indeed, there are days when I wonder if I have done so well in that area that becoming a man again would have a steep learning curve.

Aside from that, there is the "vlog", which had seemed to have plateaued last fall but which has been gaining audience steadily since then.  Perhaps it has become more useful as people start to seriously consider vacations (or, based upon what I see during the day job, actually travel more), rather than as just a way to experience such things vicariously.  I have also become a better hostess - as much as I have grown more comfortable using my physicality, I cannot deny that my interview skills have improved, and Barbie and I have become better at editing the pieces, on top of my existing skills as a researcher.  We have put together a reasonably popular "show" for the resources we have; it's not unheard of for a new video to get a hundred thousand views in a month.

This makes "_______ with Alicia" an asset that is growing in value, and I am not the only person who has noticed it - various "content networks" have made inquiries, both about the series as it exists and what they envision it to be.  On the other side, I have had others approach me with offers to "professionalize" the series.  Sometimes it is local camera operators, other times editors, other times "producers" whose imagined roles range from the nebulous to the specific and useful.

That is on top of the people representing themselves as "agents", many of whom I suspect are less than legitimate, and other "content producers" who have seen either my series or Jordan's short film and would like me to appear in their videos, generally for "exposure" (looking at the scripts they send, the double-meaning is obvious), but sometimes for money.  Indeed, some of them even appear to have ambitions beyond online videos - short films like Jordan's which they would submit to film festivals, and even a feature-length presentation or two, although I have my doubts those would ever play a theater.

What to do with these?  There seems to be little question that accepting the proper offers would make "Alicia Polawski" a more valuable commodity, but so many of them seem to be very risky, and also time consuming, enough so to make finding a time to actually transfer this life to another difficult.  Already, it seems impossible to do in 2021.  And it also sets up a possibility that I may find ironic should it come to pass - that I might build "Alicia" up into something so valuable that the next iteration would seem to be trading down.  I've occasionally been bemused by some of the younger victims of the Inn deciding to stay as they were after a mere year or two, because they could no longer imagine returning to their old lives - as someone older than most of them, I cannot say that being Alicia yet feels normal enough to make my previous life seem alien, just in terms of the weight of experience - but the idea that I could become attached in the process of building these assets up to their peak value sometimes seems both frightening and amusing.

-Harmon Keller