Nobody's overly happy with the situation we've found ourselves in. Out of all the people I've heard about from this blog, very few of them have had to live with someone who knew your body's original owner... had to deal with that on a daily basis. Shaun and I are still sharing an apartment, and while logistically it's a bit of a drag, it's an arrangement both of us are comfortable to maintain, I think. To be honest, no matter who I am, Shaun needs a friend right now. We've talked a good deal, and he's taken me into his confidence. As you on the blog know, he was recently dumped by his fiancee when he became Doug, and from then on he had to pretend to be married. And while that sounds like a relief, it's incredibly stressful to assume that role in someone's life without any prior knowledge, and going from one situation to the other like that may make it hard to access the emotions the other person expects. For the first few weeks of our arrangement, Shaun tiptoed around me and kept checking up on me to make sure I was okay, obviously being sensitive to my transformation. Once I assured him I was okay, he started to open up a bit. It's not that he couldn't talk to Zane or Lisa about it, but I'm always there in the apartment - I don't go out much, I stay in and read or watch TV. We have dinner together often, we talk, and I know feel like I know him well, and he knows me. I've told him things about myself - things I am not yet comfortable sharing here - that explain why I don't think this is the worst thing that's ever happened to me.
Because of the way the previous renters of the Lisa and Shaun bodies behaved, we found ourselves in this situation where everyone in the world thinks we're in a relationship together. It was awkward in the beginning, because I was new to this, obviously, and the last thing I wanted to be was a "girlfriend." Luckily, I didn't have to very much, aside from the occasional meeting with his family or mine. I look back at those early days of awkwardness and laugh, what they must have thought of my body language, reclining away from him on the couch, seeming distant during conversations... if it weren't for the Inn magic, the idea that we were a couple would have seemed impossible.
But it's easier to pretend now that we have rhythm. I can kid him about things, I have stories to tell when people ask, we get along great. I still don't think I'd hold his hand in public, but that's not required. I just don't lean away from him when we're sitting side by side.
What we have is an understanding, in the place of a conventional relationship. As far as the world knows, we're "together," but he knows we are definitely not in reality, and if he wanted, he could date any woman in the world. I know it wouldn't though. From our talks, he seems determined to take time for himself before getting into a relationship again. I hope he does.
And I suppose, I could date anyone I wanted. But I haven't felt attracted to even one man (or woman) in my time here. I've been "asked out" once or twice, and my reaction is more like polite embarrassment for the person asking, and I'm thankful I have my fake "relationship" as an excuse. It's a fragile balance we have to strike. I just hope he doesn't let me impact his life too much. I don't plan on being here forever.
Showing posts with label Lisa. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Lisa. Show all posts
Saturday, October 06, 2012
Thursday, July 12, 2012
Burt (Lisa): It's like walking into the middle of a movie and needing an explanation
I've been sitting here for a while trying to figure out what to say for myself. I understand there's a lot of followers out there who probably know even more about this situation than me, even though I'm living it. But it's nice to know I have someone I can talk to.
First of all, Lisa, Shaun and Zane are all really nice people, and as soon as I figured out who they all were, and who I was supposed to be, we got along pretty great. Lisa seemed exasperated at first at the idea of not getting her own body back, but she knows I didn't do this on purpose. Obviously.
In preparation for my new part (so to speak) she gave me a heartening talk about how it's not that hard to fake your way through someone else's life... the "Inn's magic" does most of the work. The real task is not to disrupt the delicate balance of another person's personal life. Fair enough, I suppose. From what I've learned the previous "Shaun and Lisa" were a married couple in their real lives and decided to carry that over to their time in these bodies. The real Shaun and Lisa are understandably not pleased about the situation that leaves them, I mean us.
That's caused a certain amount of tension for me. Our living conditions are now that of a one-bedroom apartment and let's be honest, it would probably be better to have some space and time to figure this all out for myself. Shaun's been a good sport, but I sense him gritting his teeth when trying to negotiate the morning routine.
Lisa's body... hm. I'm taking it one day at a time. I have sisters so I'm aware of the level of maintenance a female body requires. It's a good body, roughly my own age, holding up well without much "extra." Lisa is a pretty practical woman, so it's not like her wardrobe is full of oversexualized or even embarrassingly feminine attire. For comfort's sake, I've been favoring dresses and low cut tops in this summer heat. They definitely have an advantage there, and this is coming from a California guy!
I definitely feel odd getting home at night and unclasping my bra, letting "the girls" out as I prepare for bed... it feels almost naughty that I have this body to myself even though (as Lisa often points out) it's hardly in "pinup" condition. But quite frankly, it's nothing to be ashamed of, as far as women go. Good shape.
I haven't discussed my feelings about it much with Lisa, but hopefully she understands there are certain... views I'm entitled to as current tenant of her body.
Does that sound weird? I sound weird don't I. Don't mind me. I'm not here to make trouble. Really. You'll get that about me.
First of all, Lisa, Shaun and Zane are all really nice people, and as soon as I figured out who they all were, and who I was supposed to be, we got along pretty great. Lisa seemed exasperated at first at the idea of not getting her own body back, but she knows I didn't do this on purpose. Obviously.
In preparation for my new part (so to speak) she gave me a heartening talk about how it's not that hard to fake your way through someone else's life... the "Inn's magic" does most of the work. The real task is not to disrupt the delicate balance of another person's personal life. Fair enough, I suppose. From what I've learned the previous "Shaun and Lisa" were a married couple in their real lives and decided to carry that over to their time in these bodies. The real Shaun and Lisa are understandably not pleased about the situation that leaves them, I mean us.
That's caused a certain amount of tension for me. Our living conditions are now that of a one-bedroom apartment and let's be honest, it would probably be better to have some space and time to figure this all out for myself. Shaun's been a good sport, but I sense him gritting his teeth when trying to negotiate the morning routine.
Lisa's body... hm. I'm taking it one day at a time. I have sisters so I'm aware of the level of maintenance a female body requires. It's a good body, roughly my own age, holding up well without much "extra." Lisa is a pretty practical woman, so it's not like her wardrobe is full of oversexualized or even embarrassingly feminine attire. For comfort's sake, I've been favoring dresses and low cut tops in this summer heat. They definitely have an advantage there, and this is coming from a California guy!
I definitely feel odd getting home at night and unclasping my bra, letting "the girls" out as I prepare for bed... it feels almost naughty that I have this body to myself even though (as Lisa often points out) it's hardly in "pinup" condition. But quite frankly, it's nothing to be ashamed of, as far as women go. Good shape.
I haven't discussed my feelings about it much with Lisa, but hopefully she understands there are certain... views I'm entitled to as current tenant of her body.
Does that sound weird? I sound weird don't I. Don't mind me. I'm not here to make trouble. Really. You'll get that about me.
Friday, June 29, 2012
Lisa/Zane: Picking up from there...
"Lisa/Zane." Oh, my God, even after all the stuff we've been through with this Inn, I never expected I would be typing a phrase like that.
I couldn't spend too much time taking inventory, when Shaun called me over to show me what had become of Anthony's "substitute." I don't know why both of us sort of assumed Zane was in my body, since Anth's was between us, and if I took Zane's, then the person next to Shaun would have to be "me."
But going back even further, to the conversation Zane and I had that, I guess, lasted long enough into the night that our transformations kickstarted without us knowing it... I was so pissed off at Anthony. Even moreso now, but even then. Look, none of us have great lives. I'm struggling, Zane's chronically unemployed, and Doug left his life as something of a mess. A year away wasn't likely to make things better for any of us, but Anthony opting out, and leaving us with a new person to explain this whole shitty situation... that was a dick move. And I had to rant to somebody, and Zane and I had been getting on so well all week that s/he was my go-to. If I had been in Shaun's room, maybe I'd be in my own body.
Maybe I'd be in his body, and he'd be in mine. Still a crappy situation, but one we could explain easier.
So we're all faced with this complication, with Burt in my body. Zane, by process of elimination, is now Anthony. When I came to his door, and I said who I was, he got this perverse grin, this shit-eating grin Anthony sometimes gets that makes me want to punch him. It's all very "no time to explain."
So we gathered in Burt's room, where I have the very surreal visual, like watching myself on video doing something I don't remember... it's "me" sitting on the bed, draped in a much larger man's clothes, hair looking stringy, face puffy from lack of sleep. Ugh, I could hardly look.
But Shaun took the leadership role, being the one who wasn't in the wrong body.
He stammered a while. "You're um... you used to be... uh... you're not..."
"Who are you people?" Burt finally asks.
"My name is Shaun," he says, "And this is Zane, and, and, uh, Lisa." I had to hide my eyes.
"What happened to me?"
"It happened to all of us," Shaun answered, "Um, what we know, uh, we don't know everything about this, but, see, the Inn has some kind of curse on it... it's been going on for years. It takes your body... and it gives it to someone else."
I'll spare you the rest of the details. I don't know if I could have explained it any better, but there was so much backtracking and elaborating and contradicting in his explanation it probably made things a lot worse.
Like I said, the thing I hated the most is that we had to explain it.
But basically, we rambled through the whole story of how we found out about the inn last year, spent a year living in these other bodies, and made it back year later.
"But... I'm a woman."
"Yeah... um, see, it's not exact." He gestured to me, "Lisa was supposed to get her body back, but somehow it didn't go... as planned."
Burt was doing weird things, like running his fingers through my hair, trying to piece it all together in his head.
"I have to be a woman for a year... and you people... all went through this already?"
"Look, take your time with it," Shaun said, "This happens a lot, apparently, so... like, just try not to freak out too hard. It's gonna be okay."
I couldn't have done better. It was terrible, but I couldn't have done better.
We had a similar, slightly more well thought out version of the same discussion several times later that day. No one looks to be facing any tragedy in this case. I think a lot of the visitors in the previous block were at a bachelor party - mostly men - whereas half the inn this week was a singles mixer, so... there were a few other women who became guys.
I guess there's a lot to cover here, but I get really weird when I try to write too much of it, which is sorta why I never wrote here too much. I'm trying to get over it, though, because obviously this whole transformation game isn't over for me!
-Lisa...Zane... LiZane.
I couldn't spend too much time taking inventory, when Shaun called me over to show me what had become of Anthony's "substitute." I don't know why both of us sort of assumed Zane was in my body, since Anth's was between us, and if I took Zane's, then the person next to Shaun would have to be "me."
But going back even further, to the conversation Zane and I had that, I guess, lasted long enough into the night that our transformations kickstarted without us knowing it... I was so pissed off at Anthony. Even moreso now, but even then. Look, none of us have great lives. I'm struggling, Zane's chronically unemployed, and Doug left his life as something of a mess. A year away wasn't likely to make things better for any of us, but Anthony opting out, and leaving us with a new person to explain this whole shitty situation... that was a dick move. And I had to rant to somebody, and Zane and I had been getting on so well all week that s/he was my go-to. If I had been in Shaun's room, maybe I'd be in my own body.
Maybe I'd be in his body, and he'd be in mine. Still a crappy situation, but one we could explain easier.
So we're all faced with this complication, with Burt in my body. Zane, by process of elimination, is now Anthony. When I came to his door, and I said who I was, he got this perverse grin, this shit-eating grin Anthony sometimes gets that makes me want to punch him. It's all very "no time to explain."
So we gathered in Burt's room, where I have the very surreal visual, like watching myself on video doing something I don't remember... it's "me" sitting on the bed, draped in a much larger man's clothes, hair looking stringy, face puffy from lack of sleep. Ugh, I could hardly look.
But Shaun took the leadership role, being the one who wasn't in the wrong body.
He stammered a while. "You're um... you used to be... uh... you're not..."
"Who are you people?" Burt finally asks.
"My name is Shaun," he says, "And this is Zane, and, and, uh, Lisa." I had to hide my eyes.
"What happened to me?"
"It happened to all of us," Shaun answered, "Um, what we know, uh, we don't know everything about this, but, see, the Inn has some kind of curse on it... it's been going on for years. It takes your body... and it gives it to someone else."
I'll spare you the rest of the details. I don't know if I could have explained it any better, but there was so much backtracking and elaborating and contradicting in his explanation it probably made things a lot worse.
Like I said, the thing I hated the most is that we had to explain it.
But basically, we rambled through the whole story of how we found out about the inn last year, spent a year living in these other bodies, and made it back year later.
"But... I'm a woman."
"Yeah... um, see, it's not exact." He gestured to me, "Lisa was supposed to get her body back, but somehow it didn't go... as planned."
Burt was doing weird things, like running his fingers through my hair, trying to piece it all together in his head.
"I have to be a woman for a year... and you people... all went through this already?"
"Look, take your time with it," Shaun said, "This happens a lot, apparently, so... like, just try not to freak out too hard. It's gonna be okay."
I couldn't have done better. It was terrible, but I couldn't have done better.
We had a similar, slightly more well thought out version of the same discussion several times later that day. No one looks to be facing any tragedy in this case. I think a lot of the visitors in the previous block were at a bachelor party - mostly men - whereas half the inn this week was a singles mixer, so... there were a few other women who became guys.
I guess there's a lot to cover here, but I get really weird when I try to write too much of it, which is sorta why I never wrote here too much. I'm trying to get over it, though, because obviously this whole transformation game isn't over for me!
-Lisa...Zane... LiZane.
Tuesday, June 26, 2012
Shaun: Aftershocks
I don't think any of us, for a year, considered the possibility of not going back to the Inn.
Ethically, none of us wanted to. I had stolen another man's wife. Lisa had stolen a girl's youth. Zane had inherited some very real problems. And Anthony, we all knew, had some level of guilt for bringing us to the Inn. Whenever I spoke to him all year, he's mentioned feeling like it was his responsibility to get us back safe and sound.
Failure was not an option. And as shocking as it was to see Anthony's post, eventually we accepted that he did what he did for us. I wish he would have discussed it with us beforehand, but we can see his reasons for keeping it a secret.
Zane was the most amused. "I can't believe that bitch didn't tell me!" she laughed. "She knows how pissed off Wes was when I said I'd be taking this trip without him. I would've loved to see the look on his face when he saw me grow my cock back."
"So what do we do?" Lisa asked. "Do we, like... go introduce ourselves to him? Or do we just wait for the transformation to explain everything?" She had a point... for at least a year, this person was going to look like our friend. And yet part of me didn't want to see what he looked like, didn't want to face the reality of what we were doing to his life. Didn't want to humanize him.
Besides, we couldn't have warned him his life was about to be turned upside down. In fact, none of us could have known exactly how badly it was going to be turned upside down.
We didn't have to wonder too long, actually. That was the night it happened. The others can describe you their experiences transforming "back," being "ready" for it as ready as you can be... mind was subtle, like being in a warm bath I guess. My skin started to get irritated, then all of a sudden late that night, I had a bit less hair and a bit more of a gut. That's it.
When I was sure it was happening to me, I rushed next door. I know there's some kind of location aspect of who-becomes-who, but once the process was started, I knew. it would be safe to leave my room.
We had four rooms all lined up. To my left was Lisa's room. Beside that was supposed to be Anthony, and on the other side was Zane. Knowing how "out of it" Zane could get, I figured I should go talk to Lisa right away to discuss how to explain our situation to the new Anthony. So I gathered my thoughts, checked to make sure my own changes were finished (right down to the scar on my elbow from when I was ten!) and went over to Lisa's room and knocked. The door opened a crack. Someone looked out at me.
It wasn't Lisa.
When they saw who I was, they opened the door wide, but stayed behind it. "Get in, quick," the voice said.
I turned to see Zane, standing with his back against the wall, wrapped in bedspread.
"Zane? What are you doing in--"
"It's not Zane," he cut me off. He lowered his eyes to the ground. "It's Lisa."
I stared. I felt faint. Despite all our preparations something had gone wrong. Even though I knew I was back in my own body, I was hurt - disappointed, shocked, annoyed - that this had happened.
Lisa began to pace around, frantically explaining - she had gone to Zane's room for a talk. They'd been spending a lot of time together since the trip began, Zane had opened up to her all about his experience as Clara and they bonded. They ended up talking way into the night and hadn't even realized the transformation must have started when Lisa went back to her room... only to be rudely awakened by growing a, er... Zane-part.
I can't even speak to that.
Lisa, however, handled it as only a minor frustration. As much as this was a failure in our plan, at least we knew what was happening. There was somebody next door who needed our help.
I told Lisa to go see what was up with Zane when she was ready, and meet me at "Anthony's" room. I figured it would be reassuring for Zane to see his own face if he ended up in Lisa's body, and that hopefully this next year would be less traumatic than the last.
I went over to introduce myself to "Anthony." Anth had left us with this unfortunate task of bringing this person into the "Inn" world - explaining what we know about the Inn, including how it's possible to change back. I kept going over the words in my head, trying to figure out the exact right angle to come at it.
I knocked on the door. No answer. "Listen, if you can hear me--" I shouted at the door, "I know something has happened to you in there, and I need to explain it to you. It's not... it's no big deal, please don't freak out..."
The doorknob turned.
And there she was. Lisa.
Or, somebody in Lisa's body. Looking at me with murder in her eyes.
That would be Burt Cobb, the 31-year-old man Anthony had intended to give his body.
Suddenly I completely forgot what I was going to say.
Ethically, none of us wanted to. I had stolen another man's wife. Lisa had stolen a girl's youth. Zane had inherited some very real problems. And Anthony, we all knew, had some level of guilt for bringing us to the Inn. Whenever I spoke to him all year, he's mentioned feeling like it was his responsibility to get us back safe and sound.
Failure was not an option. And as shocking as it was to see Anthony's post, eventually we accepted that he did what he did for us. I wish he would have discussed it with us beforehand, but we can see his reasons for keeping it a secret.
Zane was the most amused. "I can't believe that bitch didn't tell me!" she laughed. "She knows how pissed off Wes was when I said I'd be taking this trip without him. I would've loved to see the look on his face when he saw me grow my cock back."
"So what do we do?" Lisa asked. "Do we, like... go introduce ourselves to him? Or do we just wait for the transformation to explain everything?" She had a point... for at least a year, this person was going to look like our friend. And yet part of me didn't want to see what he looked like, didn't want to face the reality of what we were doing to his life. Didn't want to humanize him.
Besides, we couldn't have warned him his life was about to be turned upside down. In fact, none of us could have known exactly how badly it was going to be turned upside down.
We didn't have to wonder too long, actually. That was the night it happened. The others can describe you their experiences transforming "back," being "ready" for it as ready as you can be... mind was subtle, like being in a warm bath I guess. My skin started to get irritated, then all of a sudden late that night, I had a bit less hair and a bit more of a gut. That's it.
When I was sure it was happening to me, I rushed next door. I know there's some kind of location aspect of who-becomes-who, but once the process was started, I knew. it would be safe to leave my room.
We had four rooms all lined up. To my left was Lisa's room. Beside that was supposed to be Anthony, and on the other side was Zane. Knowing how "out of it" Zane could get, I figured I should go talk to Lisa right away to discuss how to explain our situation to the new Anthony. So I gathered my thoughts, checked to make sure my own changes were finished (right down to the scar on my elbow from when I was ten!) and went over to Lisa's room and knocked. The door opened a crack. Someone looked out at me.
It wasn't Lisa.
When they saw who I was, they opened the door wide, but stayed behind it. "Get in, quick," the voice said.
I turned to see Zane, standing with his back against the wall, wrapped in bedspread.
"Zane? What are you doing in--"
"It's not Zane," he cut me off. He lowered his eyes to the ground. "It's Lisa."
I stared. I felt faint. Despite all our preparations something had gone wrong. Even though I knew I was back in my own body, I was hurt - disappointed, shocked, annoyed - that this had happened.
Lisa began to pace around, frantically explaining - she had gone to Zane's room for a talk. They'd been spending a lot of time together since the trip began, Zane had opened up to her all about his experience as Clara and they bonded. They ended up talking way into the night and hadn't even realized the transformation must have started when Lisa went back to her room... only to be rudely awakened by growing a, er... Zane-part.
I can't even speak to that.
Lisa, however, handled it as only a minor frustration. As much as this was a failure in our plan, at least we knew what was happening. There was somebody next door who needed our help.
I told Lisa to go see what was up with Zane when she was ready, and meet me at "Anthony's" room. I figured it would be reassuring for Zane to see his own face if he ended up in Lisa's body, and that hopefully this next year would be less traumatic than the last.
I went over to introduce myself to "Anthony." Anth had left us with this unfortunate task of bringing this person into the "Inn" world - explaining what we know about the Inn, including how it's possible to change back. I kept going over the words in my head, trying to figure out the exact right angle to come at it.
I knocked on the door. No answer. "Listen, if you can hear me--" I shouted at the door, "I know something has happened to you in there, and I need to explain it to you. It's not... it's no big deal, please don't freak out..."
The doorknob turned.
And there she was. Lisa.
Or, somebody in Lisa's body. Looking at me with murder in her eyes.
That would be Burt Cobb, the 31-year-old man Anthony had intended to give his body.
Suddenly I completely forgot what I was going to say.
Saturday, June 23, 2012
Anthony/CeeCee: I'm Sorry For This.
My name is Anthony Levine. Or at least, it used to be.
I've spent the ten months living in the body of a woman named Charlotte Christopoulos. It has not been easy. For any man, adjusting to the life of a woman would be a chore. You can imagine why, and you'd only be halfway there. There is still so much to know about being someone else. Anyone else. I took this challenge and, as I have with a lot of other obstacles in my life, did the best I could with it. It was hard, stressful, nerve-wracking, but I couldn't let on that I was struggling. There was work to do.
I messed up. Because it was an accident there is no reason I should feel guilty, but I do. Because of me three of my closest friends were transformed into other people, so I've worked tirelessly to get them, and me, back where we belong. I was single-minded. Survive, thrive, earn money to return to Maine, ignore the voice in my head reminding me of all the people my company - a travel agency - sent to that inn in Maine over the years. How many ruined lives are implicitly on my hands. Atone.
Bad things happen, no matter how good you are at planning. People will make mistakes, or things happen that are beyond your control. In my old life, I was a VP, I had a beautiful girlfriend I was planning to marry, I had money and status. Then I was turned into this, and somebody else had to be turned into me.
That somebody else... was a child. A preteen without enough sense of the world to deal with life at the level I was living. I could do everything right as Charlotte, but there was no way that kid was ever going to be a good Anthony.
He lost everything for me. Shaun has written about how guilty he feels for ruining Doug's relationship. It isn't his fault, and it isn't the Kid's fault for ruining mine, but it happened, and my career and my savings, and everything. It's gone. There was nothing I could do from here to protect it.
If I was going to go back to Maine, if I was going to go back to being Anthony, I would be starting from scratch. Worse off than I ever was before. And these are bad economic times to be trying to rebuild your life. I couldn't take it.
Shaun's a good man. He didn't steal Doug's life, even though Doug has everything Shaun seems to want. I'm not going back to the Inn. The real Charlotte has known this for some time. As far as I know, she will continue living as Wayne Tyson in Scotsdale, Arizona. As Wayne "he" is very much in love with his wife Linda, the original Clara. I don't know who will be claiming her body from Zane. It's none of my business.
My point is that as guilty as I feel for what I did to my friends, I did everything I could to fix it, I got the three of them back to Maine and if everything goes according to plan, they will be back where they belong in no time. I have to stay in Los Angeles. I'm going to be CeeCee for the rest of my life, barring some insane change of plans. I don't mind it here. The job has room for advancement. The body is sufficient for my needs. I'm thinking of getting a cat.
I've known this was happening for a few months now. I couldn't bring myself to tell anyone sooner because I was ashamed. I'm afraid you'll all think I'm taking the easy way out. Worried that you'll think less of me because I see "life as a woman" as better than "life stripped of everything I had." Afraid you'll think I'm some kind of thief. I hope you'll understand that I only did what I had to do.
This is the worst part.
The inn only works when enough people go. I had already made a reservation and couldn't cancel. This was all very time-sensitive. Through this blog, I learned about Travelers, who go back to the Inn for fun, or entertainment, or whatever. I first tried to offer my old body to Greg, but the timing didn't work out with him returning Alexis' body to her. He put me in touch with Fletcher, but he was unable to find any of his friends to visit the Inn that week.
So I took out an ad, and I sold my reservation privately, to someone who hasn't ever been before.
I've lost a lot of sleep over this. One last unwitting soul being put into a new body. I made sure it was a man, roughly my age, unemployed, unmarried, I've done everything I could to vet the candidate. He should be arriving there tonight. I'm not saying it's OK that I've done this, only that it's happened a million times before and there's no way to stop it.
This is the only way.
I'm so sorry.
I've spent the ten months living in the body of a woman named Charlotte Christopoulos. It has not been easy. For any man, adjusting to the life of a woman would be a chore. You can imagine why, and you'd only be halfway there. There is still so much to know about being someone else. Anyone else. I took this challenge and, as I have with a lot of other obstacles in my life, did the best I could with it. It was hard, stressful, nerve-wracking, but I couldn't let on that I was struggling. There was work to do.
I messed up. Because it was an accident there is no reason I should feel guilty, but I do. Because of me three of my closest friends were transformed into other people, so I've worked tirelessly to get them, and me, back where we belong. I was single-minded. Survive, thrive, earn money to return to Maine, ignore the voice in my head reminding me of all the people my company - a travel agency - sent to that inn in Maine over the years. How many ruined lives are implicitly on my hands. Atone.
Bad things happen, no matter how good you are at planning. People will make mistakes, or things happen that are beyond your control. In my old life, I was a VP, I had a beautiful girlfriend I was planning to marry, I had money and status. Then I was turned into this, and somebody else had to be turned into me.
That somebody else... was a child. A preteen without enough sense of the world to deal with life at the level I was living. I could do everything right as Charlotte, but there was no way that kid was ever going to be a good Anthony.
He lost everything for me. Shaun has written about how guilty he feels for ruining Doug's relationship. It isn't his fault, and it isn't the Kid's fault for ruining mine, but it happened, and my career and my savings, and everything. It's gone. There was nothing I could do from here to protect it.
If I was going to go back to Maine, if I was going to go back to being Anthony, I would be starting from scratch. Worse off than I ever was before. And these are bad economic times to be trying to rebuild your life. I couldn't take it.
Shaun's a good man. He didn't steal Doug's life, even though Doug has everything Shaun seems to want. I'm not going back to the Inn. The real Charlotte has known this for some time. As far as I know, she will continue living as Wayne Tyson in Scotsdale, Arizona. As Wayne "he" is very much in love with his wife Linda, the original Clara. I don't know who will be claiming her body from Zane. It's none of my business.
My point is that as guilty as I feel for what I did to my friends, I did everything I could to fix it, I got the three of them back to Maine and if everything goes according to plan, they will be back where they belong in no time. I have to stay in Los Angeles. I'm going to be CeeCee for the rest of my life, barring some insane change of plans. I don't mind it here. The job has room for advancement. The body is sufficient for my needs. I'm thinking of getting a cat.
I've known this was happening for a few months now. I couldn't bring myself to tell anyone sooner because I was ashamed. I'm afraid you'll all think I'm taking the easy way out. Worried that you'll think less of me because I see "life as a woman" as better than "life stripped of everything I had." Afraid you'll think I'm some kind of thief. I hope you'll understand that I only did what I had to do.
This is the worst part.
The inn only works when enough people go. I had already made a reservation and couldn't cancel. This was all very time-sensitive. Through this blog, I learned about Travelers, who go back to the Inn for fun, or entertainment, or whatever. I first tried to offer my old body to Greg, but the timing didn't work out with him returning Alexis' body to her. He put me in touch with Fletcher, but he was unable to find any of his friends to visit the Inn that week.
So I took out an ad, and I sold my reservation privately, to someone who hasn't ever been before.
I've lost a lot of sleep over this. One last unwitting soul being put into a new body. I made sure it was a man, roughly my age, unemployed, unmarried, I've done everything I could to vet the candidate. He should be arriving there tonight. I'm not saying it's OK that I've done this, only that it's happened a million times before and there's no way to stop it.
This is the only way.
I'm so sorry.
Lisa/Eve: Getting back where we started
Yes, I'm back in Maine. No, I'm not back in my own body yet. What I understand about the Inn is that it only works when all the rooms are "filled." I guess that means that if enough people happened to be walking by at the wrong time, they could be counted, but we'll never know how it selects exactly when and how to start changing people.
All I know is that it hasn't happened yet. I've spent a lot of time just staring out the window. I barely want to leave this room. I just sit by the window watching rain fall.
Shaun and Anthony actually delayed in getting here. Shaun's been dealing with his marriage situation and just arrived yesterday. I don't know what Anthony's excuse is. Being that his current body and mine are sisters, you'd think we could communicate more, but he's always so secretive. I hope he makes it here by the end of the weekend.
It's hard to believe I've spent a year in this body, in this life. It hasn't been easier, but it's been a lot easier for me than any of my friends. Even SHaun really started to see some backlash by the end. I'll let him explain to you how that worked out, if he chooses. He's told me a slightly more detailed version of what he wrote here. It's hard to blame him, but he seems really hurt by it.
So for the past week or so, it's been me and Zane up here. I haven't seen much of him/her since last fall when the change rendered him practically catatonic... whether that was due to the depressive state of Clara's body, or his own substances disagreeing with it, I don't know.
It's weird how, as Clara, Zane is both "like" and "unlike" himself. I was thinking of him as this fragile flower, this object of pity, broken by the transformation, when the real Zane had a real resilience. I never saw anything affect him quite the way becoming Clara did last summer and I was worried about spending time with "her."
But it's Zane who has encouraged me to get out of the room the most. I've spent so much of the last year going places and doing things I didn't want to that I liked the idea of staying in and shutting down until I was myself again. It occurred to me that Zane has sort of the opposite: being Clara has kept him from doing things, from going places and enjoying life, because of self-consciousness, depression, and lately, lack of control. These past few days are the last he'll spend as a woman, with any luck. They might be the only ones he enjoys.
Whatever Zane's agreement with this Wes character, it doesn't seem like he's as okay with it as he wants people to believe. It doesn't seem like something an emotionally-healthy person would be able to put herself through, and at the risk of sounding patronizing, I know Zane, as Clara, is not that.
I'm worried that this experience might haunt all of us afterwards, but him most of all.
Anyway, I wrote this because I realized none of us had checked in on the blog. Still waiting on the last of our group. Anthony, wherever you are, get here quick.
All I know is that it hasn't happened yet. I've spent a lot of time just staring out the window. I barely want to leave this room. I just sit by the window watching rain fall.
Shaun and Anthony actually delayed in getting here. Shaun's been dealing with his marriage situation and just arrived yesterday. I don't know what Anthony's excuse is. Being that his current body and mine are sisters, you'd think we could communicate more, but he's always so secretive. I hope he makes it here by the end of the weekend.
It's hard to believe I've spent a year in this body, in this life. It hasn't been easier, but it's been a lot easier for me than any of my friends. Even SHaun really started to see some backlash by the end. I'll let him explain to you how that worked out, if he chooses. He's told me a slightly more detailed version of what he wrote here. It's hard to blame him, but he seems really hurt by it.
So for the past week or so, it's been me and Zane up here. I haven't seen much of him/her since last fall when the change rendered him practically catatonic... whether that was due to the depressive state of Clara's body, or his own substances disagreeing with it, I don't know.
It's weird how, as Clara, Zane is both "like" and "unlike" himself. I was thinking of him as this fragile flower, this object of pity, broken by the transformation, when the real Zane had a real resilience. I never saw anything affect him quite the way becoming Clara did last summer and I was worried about spending time with "her."
But it's Zane who has encouraged me to get out of the room the most. I've spent so much of the last year going places and doing things I didn't want to that I liked the idea of staying in and shutting down until I was myself again. It occurred to me that Zane has sort of the opposite: being Clara has kept him from doing things, from going places and enjoying life, because of self-consciousness, depression, and lately, lack of control. These past few days are the last he'll spend as a woman, with any luck. They might be the only ones he enjoys.
Whatever Zane's agreement with this Wes character, it doesn't seem like he's as okay with it as he wants people to believe. It doesn't seem like something an emotionally-healthy person would be able to put herself through, and at the risk of sounding patronizing, I know Zane, as Clara, is not that.
I'm worried that this experience might haunt all of us afterwards, but him most of all.
Anyway, I wrote this because I realized none of us had checked in on the blog. Still waiting on the last of our group. Anthony, wherever you are, get here quick.
Saturday, March 31, 2012
Lisa/Eve: What's been going on with me
I'm here. I'm still here. I don't know if anyone reading this has really wondered about my whereabouts... I've just been quietly living this life, kinda thankful and kinda resentful.
Ok. I'm thankful, because if I do everything right, I can still get back to my real body and this won't have been a traumatic experience. Just kind of a boring one. I mean, really... all my friends and I were transformed into different people, and I get stuck as an 18-year-old college girl. It's stressful, it's annoying, and there's really not a lot to say. Compared to Shaun, Anth and Zane? Yeah, I'm okay.
And I'm a bit resentful because I feel like I really shouldn't say anything. Compared to the recent shit Zane's been through, or even Anth, I should be happy. I stay out of trouble, there's no hassle for me. It's annoying that all my complaints seem minor. At one point I read how Anth (aka my "sister") was hooking up with that Blake guy and I wondered why he was fine getting some action but I wasn't. Then I realized I'm surrounded by boys just out of high school, and even when they show an interest I'm just not interested in the slightest. I'm just sitting in my dorm pretending not to notice while my roommate and her boyfriend make out.
Every so often, though, Shaun comes by. I've been separated from the others most of the time, but Shaun and I have been in contact. I think he and I relate, because Anthony and Zane became girls, and his situation is... different. Sometimes, when he can sneak away without his wife knowing, he comes to the college and we go out for a drive and have a coffee.
I told him "You know what I see when I look at you? A lucky man."
"Why's that?"
"You could've wound up in Zane's position, or Anthony's, or mine. You can do Doug's job, you get his wife..."
He stopped me. "You're right. I can't lie, I feel lucky. And I feel like a jerk for not being happier about it."
I say, "You weren't ready to get back in a relationship were you?"
"It's not even that. Believe me, it's nice to have somebody there, but I know she doesn't like me for me. She likes me because she thinks I'm her husband. And I like her because I try not to think about the alternative."
"You wouldn't want to be with her if you were yourself?"
"No, it's just exhausting being a yes-man for her. I'm not a partner in this relationship, I'm a placeholder. I don't rock the boat, even when the real Doug probably would."
"Well," I said, "You have a voice. If there's anything you object to, I'm sure you can reason with her. They're married, so I doubt the whole marriage is gonna fall apart because you wanna eat somewhere different or watch a different show."
He can tell me things like this. He can't phone up Zane, even though "Clara" is his sister. He can't get any sympathy from Anthony, because as much as I love Anth he turns any complaint into a pissing match, and he's definitely got the ammo to top our complaints.
He changes the subject. We talk for a while about Zane and Anthony's lives, mainly comparing notes between what they tell us and what they tell the blog... not that there's a huge difference, but obviously we get a different "version" from the official record. Then I mention something I thought Anthony would already have said, but he doesn't post here often either.
Back around New Year's, Anthony and I took a drive out to Arizona to see the original "us." They became a family of six with two others. Charlotte and Clara, for example, became a married couple, the Tysons. The original Eve became the wife's sister, a rather large woman. When I saw her there was so much sadness in her eyes. Doug became a middle-aged man, and there were two other women kicking around the house who I didn't really talk to but had also been to the inn.
Then we talked about the new "us." As we draw closer to our reservation, we've been in contact with them more and more. The man and woman in our bodies, for example, were a married couple. And Shaun and I were both same-aged single people of the opposite sex. We both agreed that we didn't need to discuss what they were probably doing with our bodies.
I've looked at our old Facebook profiles. There's a lot of recent photos on there with "us" looking very coupley. A lot of people who have known us for a long time have "liked" them, and there's a few comments about how "cute" we look together.
None of these people would have seen us together in our real lives. I was the forever-single girl, he was the relationship guy about to get married. I never would have risked our friendship on that, although in Maine my self-esteem was super low and I admitted having some thoughts (before I knew this was a public blog!!)
I guess he has his rebound now. Between him and me, there are probably some doors best left unopened. That said, I'm back at my dorm, and he slipped me a bottle of scotch, and I've been drinking it all night and I'm starting to consider knocking on doors and seeing who answers.
Ok. I'm thankful, because if I do everything right, I can still get back to my real body and this won't have been a traumatic experience. Just kind of a boring one. I mean, really... all my friends and I were transformed into different people, and I get stuck as an 18-year-old college girl. It's stressful, it's annoying, and there's really not a lot to say. Compared to Shaun, Anth and Zane? Yeah, I'm okay.
And I'm a bit resentful because I feel like I really shouldn't say anything. Compared to the recent shit Zane's been through, or even Anth, I should be happy. I stay out of trouble, there's no hassle for me. It's annoying that all my complaints seem minor. At one point I read how Anth (aka my "sister") was hooking up with that Blake guy and I wondered why he was fine getting some action but I wasn't. Then I realized I'm surrounded by boys just out of high school, and even when they show an interest I'm just not interested in the slightest. I'm just sitting in my dorm pretending not to notice while my roommate and her boyfriend make out.
Every so often, though, Shaun comes by. I've been separated from the others most of the time, but Shaun and I have been in contact. I think he and I relate, because Anthony and Zane became girls, and his situation is... different. Sometimes, when he can sneak away without his wife knowing, he comes to the college and we go out for a drive and have a coffee.
I told him "You know what I see when I look at you? A lucky man."
"Why's that?"
"You could've wound up in Zane's position, or Anthony's, or mine. You can do Doug's job, you get his wife..."
He stopped me. "You're right. I can't lie, I feel lucky. And I feel like a jerk for not being happier about it."
I say, "You weren't ready to get back in a relationship were you?"
"It's not even that. Believe me, it's nice to have somebody there, but I know she doesn't like me for me. She likes me because she thinks I'm her husband. And I like her because I try not to think about the alternative."
"You wouldn't want to be with her if you were yourself?"
"No, it's just exhausting being a yes-man for her. I'm not a partner in this relationship, I'm a placeholder. I don't rock the boat, even when the real Doug probably would."
"Well," I said, "You have a voice. If there's anything you object to, I'm sure you can reason with her. They're married, so I doubt the whole marriage is gonna fall apart because you wanna eat somewhere different or watch a different show."
He can tell me things like this. He can't phone up Zane, even though "Clara" is his sister. He can't get any sympathy from Anthony, because as much as I love Anth he turns any complaint into a pissing match, and he's definitely got the ammo to top our complaints.
He changes the subject. We talk for a while about Zane and Anthony's lives, mainly comparing notes between what they tell us and what they tell the blog... not that there's a huge difference, but obviously we get a different "version" from the official record. Then I mention something I thought Anthony would already have said, but he doesn't post here often either.
Back around New Year's, Anthony and I took a drive out to Arizona to see the original "us." They became a family of six with two others. Charlotte and Clara, for example, became a married couple, the Tysons. The original Eve became the wife's sister, a rather large woman. When I saw her there was so much sadness in her eyes. Doug became a middle-aged man, and there were two other women kicking around the house who I didn't really talk to but had also been to the inn.
Then we talked about the new "us." As we draw closer to our reservation, we've been in contact with them more and more. The man and woman in our bodies, for example, were a married couple. And Shaun and I were both same-aged single people of the opposite sex. We both agreed that we didn't need to discuss what they were probably doing with our bodies.
I've looked at our old Facebook profiles. There's a lot of recent photos on there with "us" looking very coupley. A lot of people who have known us for a long time have "liked" them, and there's a few comments about how "cute" we look together.
None of these people would have seen us together in our real lives. I was the forever-single girl, he was the relationship guy about to get married. I never would have risked our friendship on that, although in Maine my self-esteem was super low and I admitted having some thoughts (before I knew this was a public blog!!)
I guess he has his rebound now. Between him and me, there are probably some doors best left unopened. That said, I'm back at my dorm, and he slipped me a bottle of scotch, and I've been drinking it all night and I'm starting to consider knocking on doors and seeing who answers.
Thursday, December 22, 2011
Lisa/Eve: Behind the Scenes
It's strange. I'm in a room full of someone else's childhood memories, but it's having a strangely powerful effect on me. Seeing Eve Christopolous' bedroom, which she moved out of just before I turned into her, reminds me of my own teenage years. Of course, everywhere I go nowadays reminds me of something from a long time ago.
Since the fall, I've been living as Eve. She's in her first year of college, on her own for the first time. For her it would be freedom, for me it's... well, I thought it would be confining, but the fact is, it's actually a lot more freeing than I thought. I was going to quit. I didn't see the point in staying at her school, paying money gaining knowledge I didn't need or want, while the girl who's supposed to be learning is miles away living another life.
She convinced me not to. If I dropped out, I could get her money back, but I'd still have to occupy myself for a year while I wait in line to get my body back and give this one up. All the classes she's taking this year are the prerequisites for her major, which she doesn't seem to think she's missing much (and to be honest, a lot of this stuff sounds like what I remember of high school science... this is a community college after all.) She wants to study anthropology, so I'm doing the grunt work for her reluctantly.
It's not really in my nature to half-ass it either, so I ed up getting stressed when I have a big midterm of final. This didn't exactly win me friends with my floormates. I guess that's the thing when you're a grown woman inn 18-year-old body. All these kids are experiencing their first freedom and want to goof off and mess around, (not to mention screw like bunnies!) but I've already been there, done that, bought the pregnancy test, so I just want to keep my head down.
Nobody likes feeling left out, though... I wish I related to these kids better, but I look at them and I still just see kids who don't know anything about the world, learning to walk. I end up playing mother, cleaning after them and asking them to keep it down after eleven. My roommate is a bit of a drama queen who broke up with her high school boyfriend just before she got here, cried and cried, then started hooking up with every random guy she could. Some of the other girls on the floor, thank God, have taken it more slowly.
Then there are the boys. A bunch of horny guys just trying to score. And I guess it's a little sick that after a while these kids start looking kinda good to me. Like, I know it's totally inappropriate, but I have to actively remember I'm old enough to be these boys'...... cool older cousin. And that a lot of the guys I was attracted to at that age were not the types of guys that would turn out to be... caring, sensitive spouses. And I can see right through them. So I ended up spending a lot of time alone.
So I'm thankful to be "home," where at least I'm not far from Anthony... "Charlotte." I have to say, my return for the Holidays is the first time I've seen "him" since I left for school, and she looks to be taking his new role frighteningly well. I mean, I'll admit comfort, sure, even a bit of enthusiasm for being younger and prettier, but to see that woman rock a three-inch heel and a sundress? I can't even look her in the eye! (And not just because, in those shoes, my eyes come up to her tits. Kidding, I'm not that much shorter.) Frankly, I understand Zane's reaction a bit more, even without finding out Clara was manic-depressive or whatever. I'm not saying he shouldn't come to terms with what's happened, but I totally understand not being cool with it.
Shaun's the only one I haven't seen. Work and marriage keeps him pretty busy, but we've been texting.
Anyway, if things go well, you probably won't hear too much from me. Still, Anth and I are planning a trip out to Scottsdale, Arizona, to see the real Charlotte and Eve in the new year, so I probably will report on that.
Thanks for listening.
By the way, Merry Christmas everyone! It's so strange being in the warm weather instead of freezing my butt off in New England! I miss it so much.
Since the fall, I've been living as Eve. She's in her first year of college, on her own for the first time. For her it would be freedom, for me it's... well, I thought it would be confining, but the fact is, it's actually a lot more freeing than I thought. I was going to quit. I didn't see the point in staying at her school, paying money gaining knowledge I didn't need or want, while the girl who's supposed to be learning is miles away living another life.
She convinced me not to. If I dropped out, I could get her money back, but I'd still have to occupy myself for a year while I wait in line to get my body back and give this one up. All the classes she's taking this year are the prerequisites for her major, which she doesn't seem to think she's missing much (and to be honest, a lot of this stuff sounds like what I remember of high school science... this is a community college after all.) She wants to study anthropology, so I'm doing the grunt work for her reluctantly.
It's not really in my nature to half-ass it either, so I ed up getting stressed when I have a big midterm of final. This didn't exactly win me friends with my floormates. I guess that's the thing when you're a grown woman inn 18-year-old body. All these kids are experiencing their first freedom and want to goof off and mess around, (not to mention screw like bunnies!) but I've already been there, done that, bought the pregnancy test, so I just want to keep my head down.
Nobody likes feeling left out, though... I wish I related to these kids better, but I look at them and I still just see kids who don't know anything about the world, learning to walk. I end up playing mother, cleaning after them and asking them to keep it down after eleven. My roommate is a bit of a drama queen who broke up with her high school boyfriend just before she got here, cried and cried, then started hooking up with every random guy she could. Some of the other girls on the floor, thank God, have taken it more slowly.
Then there are the boys. A bunch of horny guys just trying to score. And I guess it's a little sick that after a while these kids start looking kinda good to me. Like, I know it's totally inappropriate, but I have to actively remember I'm old enough to be these boys'...... cool older cousin. And that a lot of the guys I was attracted to at that age were not the types of guys that would turn out to be... caring, sensitive spouses. And I can see right through them. So I ended up spending a lot of time alone.
So I'm thankful to be "home," where at least I'm not far from Anthony... "Charlotte." I have to say, my return for the Holidays is the first time I've seen "him" since I left for school, and she looks to be taking his new role frighteningly well. I mean, I'll admit comfort, sure, even a bit of enthusiasm for being younger and prettier, but to see that woman rock a three-inch heel and a sundress? I can't even look her in the eye! (And not just because, in those shoes, my eyes come up to her tits. Kidding, I'm not that much shorter.) Frankly, I understand Zane's reaction a bit more, even without finding out Clara was manic-depressive or whatever. I'm not saying he shouldn't come to terms with what's happened, but I totally understand not being cool with it.
Shaun's the only one I haven't seen. Work and marriage keeps him pretty busy, but we've been texting.
Anyway, if things go well, you probably won't hear too much from me. Still, Anth and I are planning a trip out to Scottsdale, Arizona, to see the real Charlotte and Eve in the new year, so I probably will report on that.
Thanks for listening.
By the way, Merry Christmas everyone! It's so strange being in the warm weather instead of freezing my butt off in New England! I miss it so much.
Monday, August 22, 2011
Zane (Clara): Going to California
The transformation made me sick. I barely even remember getting my wits together to write that last post. I was on bedrest, throwing up, being tended to by my friends. I didn't understand what had happened to me, exhausted and dizzy.
Anthony later said he thought it was because of the shock of going from being Zane to being "Clara." I had been drinking heavily, and Clara's body is small and used to a vegan diet, and maybe the stuff I had put into my own body needed to be filtered out by whatever magical process transformed us. I don't know, it sounds as good of a theory as anything.
Anthony's a good guy, and when I could face him I told him flat out I didn't want to be "Clara." He reminded me I didn't have much of a choice. If he knew how to go back to his own body right away, he would. But we're stuck in these ones for now. I asked him what he was going to do, and he said "I'm going to be the best girl I can, because that's all I can do." I'm jealous of his confidence. I don't feel like I can pull this off, and I really don't want to have to.
Shaun and Lisa have it easy, they're still the same type of person they started out as. Shaun's taller than he used to be, a young, mid-20's decent-looking guy who looks like he has his life together: "Doug," my "brother." Lisa is a pretty young girl, like 18 or so, with long dark hair and a pretty nice body and Greek-looking features. "Eve."
Anthony ended up as "Eve's" sister, "Charlotte." She's about ten years older. The two of them are short, but Charlotte is curvier. I wouldn't say "fat" but she's got a huge bum, hips and big round boobs. I wonder what it would be like to be a girl like that, instead of a twig like Clara. She's pretty, too, I really like her face. Anthony has to wear glasses as her, though.
It's just so strange looking at these strangers and trying to see the people I know inside them. Lisa and Shaun have been quiet, but Anthony as always is a flurry of activity, arranging all of our ways home, keeping our shit together, reminding us who we are supposed to be. Then the fateful day came: "Okay, guys. We're flying to California."
I had put the finishing touches on my "My Life" letter, wondering if I'd ever be myself again... Anthony's read this blog and says it's possible, so I shouldn't give up hope. I didn't have a lot to say about myself, so I'm worried someone will just walk into my life and make it better and not want to leave. At the same time I can't just tell them "Keep collecting unemployment checks and applying for crappy jobs I didn't really want." Sorry, for a second there I felt like a loser.
I was a wreck for the flight out to California. Then I saw where I'll be living. It's like one of those reality TV houses, a big one not far from the beach, which Clara shares with 5 others. Anthony drove me home in Charlotte's car and led me up to my new room... clever guy, he asked one of Clara's housemates, "Hey, she's really a mess which room is hers?" so I wouldn't look totally clueless.
Before I knew it, a day had passed. I woke up the next morning and it still felt like someone was playing a joke on me... that I was only imagining I had this body, that I'm still a guy, I just can't feel my dick for some reason. I slipped my hand into my underpants, and... nothing but smooth flesh and a pair of soft lips.
Suddenly, I sat upright. Everything was real. This whole thing was happening whether I liked it or not. And I wish that meant this revelation meant I suddenly felt capable of living as Clara, but all it really meant was that I was finally capable of facing her in the mirror. I hadn't showered or cleaned myself in anyway since I was a guy and I felt rotten.
I peeked my head out the door and timidly tried every door until I found the washroom. I locked myself inside. I was in a white tee shirt and shorts. I've been nude in this body, but I hadn't really noticed it. I began to pace, hesitating at what I was about to do.
I stripped off the top and looked down. There they were, pointing outwards, a couple of firm, perky breasts blocking my view. I felt up under them with the palms of my hands, ran my fingers over their nipples. A shiver went up inside me. It's like... the most sensitive touch I've ever felt. Nothing in my old body would have sensed a feeling like that.
My eyes turned upward and faced the mirror, to the girl standing across from me cupping her breasts. I stepped closer and leaned over the sink to get a better look, feeling the flesh of my breasts hang low off me. I opened and closed my mouth, to remind myself I was in control of the girl in the mirror... mouthing, "Wow..." not at my looks, but just at... at the feeling of looking at someone else's body through their own eyes. Of being someone else. Of being in control of this.
I moved my one hand up to brush my hair behind my ear. I'm tanned, fairly evenly, with a few freckles, with sun-streaked sandy blonde hair over my ears. My eyes are deep blue, with a petite little nose beneath them, and rounded little lips. It was my biggest fear... Clara really is hot.
My mind flew back to the letter she left with her luggage, the novella she wrote about her life... she's a model, only part time but hoping to make it big. She's a goddamned model and even if she's not, like, 7 feet tall and stacked, she's still prettier than the average girl and seems to make a living being hot.
I turned the shower on full blast of cold, whipped my shorts down and climbed in, letting the water wash over my back. I just wanted to get numb again.
I got good and wet, ran my fingers through my hair, then shut the water off. I grabbed a towel and wrapped it under my arms, bundling my tits up and tiptoeing back to my room to hide from the world.
More later.
-Zane
Anthony later said he thought it was because of the shock of going from being Zane to being "Clara." I had been drinking heavily, and Clara's body is small and used to a vegan diet, and maybe the stuff I had put into my own body needed to be filtered out by whatever magical process transformed us. I don't know, it sounds as good of a theory as anything.
Anthony's a good guy, and when I could face him I told him flat out I didn't want to be "Clara." He reminded me I didn't have much of a choice. If he knew how to go back to his own body right away, he would. But we're stuck in these ones for now. I asked him what he was going to do, and he said "I'm going to be the best girl I can, because that's all I can do." I'm jealous of his confidence. I don't feel like I can pull this off, and I really don't want to have to.
Shaun and Lisa have it easy, they're still the same type of person they started out as. Shaun's taller than he used to be, a young, mid-20's decent-looking guy who looks like he has his life together: "Doug," my "brother." Lisa is a pretty young girl, like 18 or so, with long dark hair and a pretty nice body and Greek-looking features. "Eve."
Anthony ended up as "Eve's" sister, "Charlotte." She's about ten years older. The two of them are short, but Charlotte is curvier. I wouldn't say "fat" but she's got a huge bum, hips and big round boobs. I wonder what it would be like to be a girl like that, instead of a twig like Clara. She's pretty, too, I really like her face. Anthony has to wear glasses as her, though.
It's just so strange looking at these strangers and trying to see the people I know inside them. Lisa and Shaun have been quiet, but Anthony as always is a flurry of activity, arranging all of our ways home, keeping our shit together, reminding us who we are supposed to be. Then the fateful day came: "Okay, guys. We're flying to California."
I had put the finishing touches on my "My Life" letter, wondering if I'd ever be myself again... Anthony's read this blog and says it's possible, so I shouldn't give up hope. I didn't have a lot to say about myself, so I'm worried someone will just walk into my life and make it better and not want to leave. At the same time I can't just tell them "Keep collecting unemployment checks and applying for crappy jobs I didn't really want." Sorry, for a second there I felt like a loser.
I was a wreck for the flight out to California. Then I saw where I'll be living. It's like one of those reality TV houses, a big one not far from the beach, which Clara shares with 5 others. Anthony drove me home in Charlotte's car and led me up to my new room... clever guy, he asked one of Clara's housemates, "Hey, she's really a mess which room is hers?" so I wouldn't look totally clueless.
Before I knew it, a day had passed. I woke up the next morning and it still felt like someone was playing a joke on me... that I was only imagining I had this body, that I'm still a guy, I just can't feel my dick for some reason. I slipped my hand into my underpants, and... nothing but smooth flesh and a pair of soft lips.
Suddenly, I sat upright. Everything was real. This whole thing was happening whether I liked it or not. And I wish that meant this revelation meant I suddenly felt capable of living as Clara, but all it really meant was that I was finally capable of facing her in the mirror. I hadn't showered or cleaned myself in anyway since I was a guy and I felt rotten.
I peeked my head out the door and timidly tried every door until I found the washroom. I locked myself inside. I was in a white tee shirt and shorts. I've been nude in this body, but I hadn't really noticed it. I began to pace, hesitating at what I was about to do.
I stripped off the top and looked down. There they were, pointing outwards, a couple of firm, perky breasts blocking my view. I felt up under them with the palms of my hands, ran my fingers over their nipples. A shiver went up inside me. It's like... the most sensitive touch I've ever felt. Nothing in my old body would have sensed a feeling like that.
My eyes turned upward and faced the mirror, to the girl standing across from me cupping her breasts. I stepped closer and leaned over the sink to get a better look, feeling the flesh of my breasts hang low off me. I opened and closed my mouth, to remind myself I was in control of the girl in the mirror... mouthing, "Wow..." not at my looks, but just at... at the feeling of looking at someone else's body through their own eyes. Of being someone else. Of being in control of this.
I moved my one hand up to brush my hair behind my ear. I'm tanned, fairly evenly, with a few freckles, with sun-streaked sandy blonde hair over my ears. My eyes are deep blue, with a petite little nose beneath them, and rounded little lips. It was my biggest fear... Clara really is hot.
My mind flew back to the letter she left with her luggage, the novella she wrote about her life... she's a model, only part time but hoping to make it big. She's a goddamned model and even if she's not, like, 7 feet tall and stacked, she's still prettier than the average girl and seems to make a living being hot.
I turned the shower on full blast of cold, whipped my shorts down and climbed in, letting the water wash over my back. I just wanted to get numb again.
I got good and wet, ran my fingers through my hair, then shut the water off. I grabbed a towel and wrapped it under my arms, bundling my tits up and tiptoeing back to my room to hide from the world.
More later.
-Zane
Monday, August 15, 2011
Lisa: Eve
I didn't ask for this did I?
Okay, I feel shitty, like I don't have a right to complain because, look at what just happened to two of my best friends. To be honest, I'm kinda jealous of them, because if you had to be someone else, wouldn't it at least be interest to turn into the opposite sex? They get to learn so much. What do I get? A big reset on my life. They're at least in control. If I have to be "Eve Christopoulos" I have to go to school, live in a dorm with other people and basically give up control.
Okay, my real life isn't anything to be jealous of, but I'm worried I'm just gonna tread over the same path as I did before. Maybe I'll make the most of this opportunity. Maybe I'll waste it. I don't feel good. I don't want to get this girl stuck in a rut but I have no idea how to do things differently.
But we're all sort of forming a support system for each other. Shaun stands on his own... regular guy as regular guy, a shoulder for me to lean on. Zane leans on Anthony: Anthony seems to have the "girl" thing in hand, or at least is hiding his own panic well. He's such a "together" guy that losing his body barely flapped him. Anthony has me to look to as a role model, if he needs it. We sat down and he asked me some very forthright questions about what to expect. I gave him my best answers on how to treat his body. We're sisters now. "Charlotte's" Blackberry was already exploding. We need to get to California pronto, it seems.
To say nothing of the rest of the people here, meeting new "spouses" or saying goodbye to their own loved ones. We're one party that became another party. That's... something to be grateful for I guess.
Then I look back over at Zane and I think how dumb it is for me to complain. Sorry, buddy. I'm here for ya.
Okay, I feel shitty, like I don't have a right to complain because, look at what just happened to two of my best friends. To be honest, I'm kinda jealous of them, because if you had to be someone else, wouldn't it at least be interest to turn into the opposite sex? They get to learn so much. What do I get? A big reset on my life. They're at least in control. If I have to be "Eve Christopoulos" I have to go to school, live in a dorm with other people and basically give up control.
Okay, my real life isn't anything to be jealous of, but I'm worried I'm just gonna tread over the same path as I did before. Maybe I'll make the most of this opportunity. Maybe I'll waste it. I don't feel good. I don't want to get this girl stuck in a rut but I have no idea how to do things differently.
But we're all sort of forming a support system for each other. Shaun stands on his own... regular guy as regular guy, a shoulder for me to lean on. Zane leans on Anthony: Anthony seems to have the "girl" thing in hand, or at least is hiding his own panic well. He's such a "together" guy that losing his body barely flapped him. Anthony has me to look to as a role model, if he needs it. We sat down and he asked me some very forthright questions about what to expect. I gave him my best answers on how to treat his body. We're sisters now. "Charlotte's" Blackberry was already exploding. We need to get to California pronto, it seems.
To say nothing of the rest of the people here, meeting new "spouses" or saying goodbye to their own loved ones. We're one party that became another party. That's... something to be grateful for I guess.
Then I look back over at Zane and I think how dumb it is for me to complain. Sorry, buddy. I'm here for ya.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Zane: I guess this is what it's like
No choice but to get used to it now... ladies, I'm one of you.
That's a freaky thought. I've had a week to get used to it, but it still doesn't make sense to me. I wake up and I think I'm still me for a split second, then my hand reaches over and pats my breast and... woop. There it is.
I was the last one to open up a suitcase. Anthony was first, showing what a good sport he is. Also he needed to find a pair of glasses because I guess his girl-body has vision problems. Shaun and Lisa followed suit because even though they're in strangers' bodies, they're not all that different. I just laid in bed all day overheating in my sleepwear trying to pretend it was all some sick dream.
Before I even read the letter I was not a fan of this chick. She did not pack any jeans or slacks or what I would call "sensible" underwear. I guess it's too much to ask that a girl wear boxers, but all I'm left with are these little triangles of fabric. I looked at these things thinking "these things are gonna choke me to death down there" but no, they slipped on nice and snug. There was nothing really "guyish" to wear, it was all summer dresses, light, billowy, flauncy things with girly patterns on them. Anthony convinced me to put one one just to see how it felt. I felt like a guy in a dress. He said I looked fine but I felt ridiculous. I'm not used to showing a lot of skin, so these wee thin straps over my shoulders, and the way it just barely comes up over my chest... I look down and I can see right down between my... my thingies.
Boobs.
I don't want to have them.
I love them, I do, on women. They're great to look at and I can't deny the longer I have a set of my own the more I cup them and rub them and smoosh them, but then a feeling goes through my body and I remember these are ATTACHED to me and that's not right. They feel inconvenient to jam into these stupid bras and dresses, even though they're not that big. They're just these little bobbles of flesh that bounce a bit when I move too quickly.
So let's talk about this woman. Clara, 24... a model from California. And I would think "Hey if I have to live someone's life, it seems really easy to be someone who's just hot for a living." But it sounds like a lot of stress, because half her letter to me was intricately describing her lifestyle, workout routines, diet, beauty regiments, blah, blah... as my eyes scrolled down this lengthy list of directions on hos to be this girl, I just felt sick. Like I wasn't in charge of anything anymore. Claustrophobic. She's in control of me. There's nothing I can do.
We're going to California tomorrow and I'm taking a break from writing out my own letter to let you know about me.
That's a freaky thought. I've had a week to get used to it, but it still doesn't make sense to me. I wake up and I think I'm still me for a split second, then my hand reaches over and pats my breast and... woop. There it is.
I was the last one to open up a suitcase. Anthony was first, showing what a good sport he is. Also he needed to find a pair of glasses because I guess his girl-body has vision problems. Shaun and Lisa followed suit because even though they're in strangers' bodies, they're not all that different. I just laid in bed all day overheating in my sleepwear trying to pretend it was all some sick dream.
Before I even read the letter I was not a fan of this chick. She did not pack any jeans or slacks or what I would call "sensible" underwear. I guess it's too much to ask that a girl wear boxers, but all I'm left with are these little triangles of fabric. I looked at these things thinking "these things are gonna choke me to death down there" but no, they slipped on nice and snug. There was nothing really "guyish" to wear, it was all summer dresses, light, billowy, flauncy things with girly patterns on them. Anthony convinced me to put one one just to see how it felt. I felt like a guy in a dress. He said I looked fine but I felt ridiculous. I'm not used to showing a lot of skin, so these wee thin straps over my shoulders, and the way it just barely comes up over my chest... I look down and I can see right down between my... my thingies.
Boobs.
I don't want to have them.
I love them, I do, on women. They're great to look at and I can't deny the longer I have a set of my own the more I cup them and rub them and smoosh them, but then a feeling goes through my body and I remember these are ATTACHED to me and that's not right. They feel inconvenient to jam into these stupid bras and dresses, even though they're not that big. They're just these little bobbles of flesh that bounce a bit when I move too quickly.
So let's talk about this woman. Clara, 24... a model from California. And I would think "Hey if I have to live someone's life, it seems really easy to be someone who's just hot for a living." But it sounds like a lot of stress, because half her letter to me was intricately describing her lifestyle, workout routines, diet, beauty regiments, blah, blah... as my eyes scrolled down this lengthy list of directions on hos to be this girl, I just felt sick. Like I wasn't in charge of anything anymore. Claustrophobic. She's in control of me. There's nothing I can do.
We're going to California tomorrow and I'm taking a break from writing out my own letter to let you know about me.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Anthony: Straightening out the chaos
None of us can seem to put this situation into words. Having pored over this blog for the past couple of days, I sense you all have as good of an understanding as you can as to what has just happened to us. I wish we had had any sort of warning, but how can you? Especially since, so they say, anyone told about the curse will be in disbelief.
I was running in control mode all day Sunday. Realizing my body had changed, I suppose, sent me into a headspace of solving problems and making sure everything was OK with my friends. I knew I was a female now, but I didn't let that register with me until it was okay to indulge a little personal panic. I had to keep calm for everyone else. The first thing I did was check on Zane. He was understandably freaks. He had been changed, like me, into a girl. At first I thought all of us had been changed into opposite-gendered bodies, but when I visited Shaun and Lisa, I found that was not the case. And so the mystery of the Trading Post Inn began to unravel. Before long it was something we could wrap our heads around.
That doesn't mean I like it, but I can't deal with that right now. Before I can worry about myself, I need assurance that everyone is healthy and safe and... I don't know, adjusting, if need be.
After I confirmed what had happened with Shaun and Lisa, we went about figuring out the missing pieces of our "new lives." Lisa and I have wound up in the bodies of a pair of sisters, albeit ones separated by ten years. Lisa is a girl named Eve, who is going into her first year at college. "Doug" you already know about, and Zane is his "sister," a woman named Clara.
I've been keeping an eye on him. For the first day he didn't move much, probably as much due to hangover as to shock and not wanting to "deal with it." Finally, when he drifted back asleep I sneaked back to my own room.
I was reluctant to go rooting through this woman's luggage, but I knew nothing I had was going to fit me. Her figure is very... womanly and I was embarrassed to stay in my own clothes as long as I did because it must have looked pathetic. Even so, I had a hard time imagining myself picking out an outfit.
Her name is Charlotte Christopoulos, "Ceecee," a junior modelling agent. Clearly not a model herself. When I finally got a look at myself naked, I was not thrilled.
I don't want to use the word "fat." I'm a sensitive guy and I know that women come in all shapes. "Fat" implies there's a giant gut bulging out, just rolls everywhere. "Curvy" is the correct term... she's got a bit of a belly curving over the waistband of the underpants, and a very wide set of hips... a big bum to sit on... but that's what they say "real women" are supposed to look like, isn't it? It comes with a very large set of boobs hanging down, blocking my view of my feet. When I found a bra to wear, the cups were 34-F's. And I think it may be too small. I wedged my tits in and they really felt like they were on display... I really understand why they call it a "rack."
I tried to squeeze myself into a set of jean-shorts, but that wasn't comfortable... they rode up in the front which is not only tight, but unnatural feeling for me as I'm used to that area featuring very different geography, of course.
With a sigh, I switched out for a skirt and tanktop, walking and sitting awkwardly the rest of the day. Zane took a look at me and asked how I could be wearing these clothes, and I said there wasn't much option and he was going to have to deal with it sooner than later. Weakly, he looked up at me and asked, his voice taking a girlish tone, "Is it gonna be okay?"
I nodded, "Yeah, I think so," not sure whether I believed it.
I was running in control mode all day Sunday. Realizing my body had changed, I suppose, sent me into a headspace of solving problems and making sure everything was OK with my friends. I knew I was a female now, but I didn't let that register with me until it was okay to indulge a little personal panic. I had to keep calm for everyone else. The first thing I did was check on Zane. He was understandably freaks. He had been changed, like me, into a girl. At first I thought all of us had been changed into opposite-gendered bodies, but when I visited Shaun and Lisa, I found that was not the case. And so the mystery of the Trading Post Inn began to unravel. Before long it was something we could wrap our heads around.
That doesn't mean I like it, but I can't deal with that right now. Before I can worry about myself, I need assurance that everyone is healthy and safe and... I don't know, adjusting, if need be.
After I confirmed what had happened with Shaun and Lisa, we went about figuring out the missing pieces of our "new lives." Lisa and I have wound up in the bodies of a pair of sisters, albeit ones separated by ten years. Lisa is a girl named Eve, who is going into her first year at college. "Doug" you already know about, and Zane is his "sister," a woman named Clara.
I've been keeping an eye on him. For the first day he didn't move much, probably as much due to hangover as to shock and not wanting to "deal with it." Finally, when he drifted back asleep I sneaked back to my own room.
I was reluctant to go rooting through this woman's luggage, but I knew nothing I had was going to fit me. Her figure is very... womanly and I was embarrassed to stay in my own clothes as long as I did because it must have looked pathetic. Even so, I had a hard time imagining myself picking out an outfit.
Her name is Charlotte Christopoulos, "Ceecee," a junior modelling agent. Clearly not a model herself. When I finally got a look at myself naked, I was not thrilled.
I don't want to use the word "fat." I'm a sensitive guy and I know that women come in all shapes. "Fat" implies there's a giant gut bulging out, just rolls everywhere. "Curvy" is the correct term... she's got a bit of a belly curving over the waistband of the underpants, and a very wide set of hips... a big bum to sit on... but that's what they say "real women" are supposed to look like, isn't it? It comes with a very large set of boobs hanging down, blocking my view of my feet. When I found a bra to wear, the cups were 34-F's. And I think it may be too small. I wedged my tits in and they really felt like they were on display... I really understand why they call it a "rack."
I tried to squeeze myself into a set of jean-shorts, but that wasn't comfortable... they rode up in the front which is not only tight, but unnatural feeling for me as I'm used to that area featuring very different geography, of course.
With a sigh, I switched out for a skirt and tanktop, walking and sitting awkwardly the rest of the day. Zane took a look at me and asked how I could be wearing these clothes, and I said there wasn't much option and he was going to have to deal with it sooner than later. Weakly, he looked up at me and asked, his voice taking a girlish tone, "Is it gonna be okay?"
I nodded, "Yeah, I think so," not sure whether I believed it.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Shaun: Tell me what to do
The others are too freaked out to talk. Once we found out this e-mail was connected with this blog I asked "Alia" to refrain from posting any of our correspondence until we had our own accounts set up and were ready to talk.
I think I'm probably the only one who's in a place to say anything, so here's what happened.
Lisa and I were in bed Saturday night. I was already asleep, she stumbled in drunk. I offered to take the floor, but she was pretty belligerent, saying "Head to toe, we're going head-to-toe. Go back to sleep." Right.
We wake up at the crack of dawn when she falls out of bed. I hear the thump and when I look over, I see her on the floor... I mean I don't see her, but I see her hand waving, "It's all right!"
She pulls her up and suddenly I get a glimpse of her and something's not right. "Lisa," I say, "Are you all right?"
"Yeah," she says. We come face to face, and she gives me this look like she doesn't know who I am.
Neither of us had any idea what the other person was looking at. So there was this initial reaction of "Who are you, I'm me, what are you talking about, what's going on..." I guess it hit us differently than the others, because even though the faces in the mirror were different, they weren't drastic changes.
The girl I was looking at was now a much younger form, thinner and perkier, with long dark hair rather than Lisa's shoulder-length blonde do. My own face had changed pretty noticeably, too. Somehow, my beard had shaved itself off overnight, like her I lost a few years off my skin and face... my hairline moved forward some, my hair lightened from its chestnut brown tone to a lighter, more gingery tone. At the time, the changes were strange enough, but we didn't sense the full depth of the weirdness going on until we heard a knock at the door. We stopped in our tracks, silently wondering if we would open it to find answers. Instead, more questions.
What I saw was a short, round-figured woman with rosy cheeks, with similar long dark hair and features to Lisa's. She looked back and forth between us. She turned to me and asked, "Lisa?"
I pointed at the girl by the bed. The woman in the doorway seemed struck. Seeing them side by side, they were clearly sisters. The older woman looked up at me gravely. "Shaun."
"Yeah. Do we... know you?"
She hesitated a moment before identifying herself as Anthony. I didn't want to believe it. Whatever had happened to us had affected everyone else at the inn similarly... even more strangely at that. My best friend for a decade, a former collegiate athlete, standing before me as a woman half-dressed in ill-fitting men's sleep clothes. I was too stunned to ask him anything about what had happened. I didn't know if he could answer, I didn't want him to.
He sat on the bed and swept his long locks out of his face. "It doesn't make sense." He had clearly already been thinking a while. "Between me and Zane, we both changed into... we're both like this, I thought you guys would... I mean, the pattern doesn't add up. I thought everyone was being changed... like this."
"You're a girl." Lisa finally said. Anthony nodded without glancing over.
"How did this happen?" I blurted out, trying to be constructive.
"I don't know," Anthony said, "I'm not sure it matters. I thought we were being changed randomly, but looking at Lisa... there's a similarity there, right?"
"Right," I answered back.
Anthony began to deduce there were specific people we had become, and that was when Lisa remembered the bags. I can't believe she hadn't mentioned them earlier, the mysterious discarded luggage in our room's closet. There was only one set, though. We opened it up to find it was a man's... mine. In it were, of course, better-fitting clothes, and a number of personal papers, and a letter attempting to explain the situation.
Now that I know this e-mail is connected to this blog, I don't need to explain to you how the wheels in our heads started turning. It quickly occurred to me that I was being told about my new life.
The man in question is Doug Green, a manager for Home Supply Depot from Santa Monica, California. There weren't too many extra details beyond that, aside form the fact that his wife is back there waiting for him.
That made me have to sit down. On first reading it, it just seems like somebody's life is being described to me. It isn't until you get to a detail like that that you pause and realize you're being told about the life you are going to lead. Just a few weeks ago, my fiancee broke my heart. Now I'm suddenly a married man? Heavy.
I'm trying not to show my emotion in front of the others, though. As soon as we became aware of the situation it was clear, even before we found out about their letters, that Anthony, Zane and even Lisa had more on their plate. But I can't help but admit to you that it's a lot to digest.
So I'm keeping my mouth shut a little, out of respect. We're just waiting to figure out what our next move is.
I think I'm probably the only one who's in a place to say anything, so here's what happened.
Lisa and I were in bed Saturday night. I was already asleep, she stumbled in drunk. I offered to take the floor, but she was pretty belligerent, saying "Head to toe, we're going head-to-toe. Go back to sleep." Right.
We wake up at the crack of dawn when she falls out of bed. I hear the thump and when I look over, I see her on the floor... I mean I don't see her, but I see her hand waving, "It's all right!"
She pulls her up and suddenly I get a glimpse of her and something's not right. "Lisa," I say, "Are you all right?"
"Yeah," she says. We come face to face, and she gives me this look like she doesn't know who I am.
Neither of us had any idea what the other person was looking at. So there was this initial reaction of "Who are you, I'm me, what are you talking about, what's going on..." I guess it hit us differently than the others, because even though the faces in the mirror were different, they weren't drastic changes.
The girl I was looking at was now a much younger form, thinner and perkier, with long dark hair rather than Lisa's shoulder-length blonde do. My own face had changed pretty noticeably, too. Somehow, my beard had shaved itself off overnight, like her I lost a few years off my skin and face... my hairline moved forward some, my hair lightened from its chestnut brown tone to a lighter, more gingery tone. At the time, the changes were strange enough, but we didn't sense the full depth of the weirdness going on until we heard a knock at the door. We stopped in our tracks, silently wondering if we would open it to find answers. Instead, more questions.
What I saw was a short, round-figured woman with rosy cheeks, with similar long dark hair and features to Lisa's. She looked back and forth between us. She turned to me and asked, "Lisa?"
I pointed at the girl by the bed. The woman in the doorway seemed struck. Seeing them side by side, they were clearly sisters. The older woman looked up at me gravely. "Shaun."
"Yeah. Do we... know you?"
She hesitated a moment before identifying herself as Anthony. I didn't want to believe it. Whatever had happened to us had affected everyone else at the inn similarly... even more strangely at that. My best friend for a decade, a former collegiate athlete, standing before me as a woman half-dressed in ill-fitting men's sleep clothes. I was too stunned to ask him anything about what had happened. I didn't know if he could answer, I didn't want him to.
He sat on the bed and swept his long locks out of his face. "It doesn't make sense." He had clearly already been thinking a while. "Between me and Zane, we both changed into... we're both like this, I thought you guys would... I mean, the pattern doesn't add up. I thought everyone was being changed... like this."
"You're a girl." Lisa finally said. Anthony nodded without glancing over.
"How did this happen?" I blurted out, trying to be constructive.
"I don't know," Anthony said, "I'm not sure it matters. I thought we were being changed randomly, but looking at Lisa... there's a similarity there, right?"
"Right," I answered back.
Anthony began to deduce there were specific people we had become, and that was when Lisa remembered the bags. I can't believe she hadn't mentioned them earlier, the mysterious discarded luggage in our room's closet. There was only one set, though. We opened it up to find it was a man's... mine. In it were, of course, better-fitting clothes, and a number of personal papers, and a letter attempting to explain the situation.
Now that I know this e-mail is connected to this blog, I don't need to explain to you how the wheels in our heads started turning. It quickly occurred to me that I was being told about my new life.
The man in question is Doug Green, a manager for Home Supply Depot from Santa Monica, California. There weren't too many extra details beyond that, aside form the fact that his wife is back there waiting for him.
That made me have to sit down. On first reading it, it just seems like somebody's life is being described to me. It isn't until you get to a detail like that that you pause and realize you're being told about the life you are going to lead. Just a few weeks ago, my fiancee broke my heart. Now I'm suddenly a married man? Heavy.
I'm trying not to show my emotion in front of the others, though. As soon as we became aware of the situation it was clear, even before we found out about their letters, that Anthony, Zane and even Lisa had more on their plate. But I can't help but admit to you that it's a lot to digest.
So I'm keeping my mouth shut a little, out of respect. We're just waiting to figure out what our next move is.
Sunday, August 07, 2011
Zane - Werid stuff
Okay so I'm a bit drunk so if i can't type my bad. Im usaully way better even when im drunk but my fingers feel weird. this whole place feels wierd. um. where Do i begin?
this E-Mail, like I never heard of a n independant cutsromer sevrice e-mail. I couldn't finf any reference to this email on the trading post site, so I dunno who you work for but let me tell yuo about my weekend.
Maine makes people do weird thigns. Take Lisa who's NEVER shown any intesret in me before. Weve known each other for years, years and if anthing, she's gotte nless intersted in me over time! She doesn't believe me but I told her she still looks like when we were in college. Last night we got to drinking and while Shaun and Anthony were off playing darts, me and her were going beer for beer pounding local brews and after about six she was looking really good, so I lean over and I dothe thing where I sweep some hair out of her eyes. Classic.
So she leans in and kisses me and we walk back up the beach to my room because shes sharing a room with Shaun. I thought that meant she was ghooking up with him!
But we get back to my room and start getting busy, but the second I get my hand up he shirt she backs off. "Sorry" she says, "but I need to stop before we do something I regret." Bleh. That sucked. Its been way too long since I touched breasts.
Anyway, Maine does weird things to people. Maybe it's the ocean air making people horny. Maybe that's just the alcohol. When I started this I could barely type (I'm writing in on an iPhone) but now my fingers feel less clumsy. Must be sobering up.
The people next door won't stop murmuring. That's another tyhing. These people, I hear their voiced all night I can barely sleep.
I think something made me sick. Maybe it was that local beer, or there was bedbugs in the sheets. I feel like I've got a rash -- can't stop scratching my arms and my scalp... but I don't feel any bumps.
I feel like I've got the most epic case of BSTL (Balls Stuck To Leg) ever. The rain is making it humid and my hair is getting all frizzy, I feel like I've got a cough stuck in my throat. Take a deep breath hold on. I cant get comfortable in this bed its wreckerd my back my muscles are all tense.
hold on I don't know how to end this email
this E-Mail, like I never heard of a n independant cutsromer sevrice e-mail. I couldn't finf any reference to this email on the trading post site, so I dunno who you work for but let me tell yuo about my weekend.
Maine makes people do weird thigns. Take Lisa who's NEVER shown any intesret in me before. Weve known each other for years, years and if anthing, she's gotte nless intersted in me over time! She doesn't believe me but I told her she still looks like when we were in college. Last night we got to drinking and while Shaun and Anthony were off playing darts, me and her were going beer for beer pounding local brews and after about six she was looking really good, so I lean over and I dothe thing where I sweep some hair out of her eyes. Classic.
So she leans in and kisses me and we walk back up the beach to my room because shes sharing a room with Shaun. I thought that meant she was ghooking up with him!
But we get back to my room and start getting busy, but the second I get my hand up he shirt she backs off. "Sorry" she says, "but I need to stop before we do something I regret." Bleh. That sucked. Its been way too long since I touched breasts.
Anyway, Maine does weird things to people. Maybe it's the ocean air making people horny. Maybe that's just the alcohol. When I started this I could barely type (I'm writing in on an iPhone) but now my fingers feel less clumsy. Must be sobering up.
The people next door won't stop murmuring. That's another tyhing. These people, I hear their voiced all night I can barely sleep.
I think something made me sick. Maybe it was that local beer, or there was bedbugs in the sheets. I feel like I've got a rash -- can't stop scratching my arms and my scalp... but I don't feel any bumps.
I feel like I've got the most epic case of BSTL (Balls Stuck To Leg) ever. The rain is making it humid and my hair is getting all frizzy, I feel like I've got a cough stuck in my throat. Take a deep breath hold on. I cant get comfortable in this bed its wreckerd my back my muscles are all tense.
hold on I don't know how to end this email
Friday, August 05, 2011
Lisa- Regrets
Dear Trading Post E-Mail,
Is it weird that I suspect you're not actually affiliated with the Inn? I hope not, because I feel kind of bold tonight (although that may just be the Crown and Coke I have sitting on the nightstand) and I wanna spill my guts a little.
My friend Shaun tells me he said a bit about what brought us here. About how his fiancee broke up with him before the wedding. When he couldn't get rid of the reservation, I came along because I needed to get out of my rut, but truth is, it's just reminding me about some mistakes I've made.
My time to get married came about five years ago. I was in my 20's and had been seeing him for only a year, so I thought it was too soon even though I really liked him. He took my rejection pretty hard, but I tried to keep the relationship going... he apparently never got over it. Over-emotional, which was his main failing, but otherwise he was a solid guy. Good job, nice hair, great car... guh, I'm driving myself crazy just remembering him.
It was dumb of me to turn him down, but I thought he'd propose again in time, when we were more certain. Our relationship lasted a few months more, then he decided his heart wasn't in it and off he went.
Now, of course, I realize my mistake. I haven't dated anyone seriously since him, and he's married with a kid. That could be me by now!
Well, that's my spilled milk to cry over.
I came along because I was hoping to meet someone. You never know. But it's hard to find guys to chat up when you're constantly surrounded by your male college friends.
It's getting brutal, but even Zane is starting to look decent to me. Shh, don't tell the others. Even Shaun, if I didn't know he would read too much into it, might deserve a pity fuck. But I've never been that girl to any of them, and that's a good thing.
Except now that I need something easy and fun.
Even if I end up regretting it later... which I almost certainly would! Oooof, I have said too much. Blame it on the drinks!
Is it weird that I suspect you're not actually affiliated with the Inn? I hope not, because I feel kind of bold tonight (although that may just be the Crown and Coke I have sitting on the nightstand) and I wanna spill my guts a little.
My friend Shaun tells me he said a bit about what brought us here. About how his fiancee broke up with him before the wedding. When he couldn't get rid of the reservation, I came along because I needed to get out of my rut, but truth is, it's just reminding me about some mistakes I've made.
My time to get married came about five years ago. I was in my 20's and had been seeing him for only a year, so I thought it was too soon even though I really liked him. He took my rejection pretty hard, but I tried to keep the relationship going... he apparently never got over it. Over-emotional, which was his main failing, but otherwise he was a solid guy. Good job, nice hair, great car... guh, I'm driving myself crazy just remembering him.
It was dumb of me to turn him down, but I thought he'd propose again in time, when we were more certain. Our relationship lasted a few months more, then he decided his heart wasn't in it and off he went.
Now, of course, I realize my mistake. I haven't dated anyone seriously since him, and he's married with a kid. That could be me by now!
Well, that's my spilled milk to cry over.
I came along because I was hoping to meet someone. You never know. But it's hard to find guys to chat up when you're constantly surrounded by your male college friends.
It's getting brutal, but even Zane is starting to look decent to me. Shh, don't tell the others. Even Shaun, if I didn't know he would read too much into it, might deserve a pity fuck. But I've never been that girl to any of them, and that's a good thing.
Except now that I need something easy and fun.
Even if I end up regretting it later... which I almost certainly would! Oooof, I have said too much. Blame it on the drinks!
Thursday, August 04, 2011
Shaun -- Trip of Fools
Dear Trading Post Inn: Screw You.
This has got to be the worst trip ever.
A little background. Last Christmas, I proposed to my longtime girlfriend. We set the date for September. Unfortunately, our work schedules basically made honeymooning impossible, so we booked this non-refundable vacation in Maine as sort of a pre-honeymoon. It was going to be us and her brother Anthony and his girlfriend Rebbecca. Anthony and I are very close, he was going to be my best man. He's a really together guy, a VP for a Travel Agency. Very organized, and once you get to know him, pretty funny. We went to college together, and he introduced me to his sister.
Then in July -- as in two weeks ago -- she calls it off. Five years together gone because she's got cold feet. No matter how much I beg and plead, she won't hear me out or take me back. I guess you can't force someone to marry you if they don't want to.
So after all this grief and heartache and trying to figure out when I can get my stuff, I'm stuck with these tickets and reservations I can't seem to get rid of. Logic dictates they would just hand the reservations off to anyone else or, you know, just have some vacant slots in their stupid hotel, but no, apparently logic doesn't apply in Maine and I am honor bound to keep the reservation. Even if I don't show up, I'll be billed. That's bullshit, I'm sorry.
But here I am anyway on my lonely little non-honeymoon. Since the reservation was for two, I decided to invite my old college friend Lisa. She's cute and everything but I never really thought of her that way. Still, I know she's had a few negative experiences, so she keeps elbowing me and reminding me she's not a rebound. Yeah, Lisa, I know.
To top that all off? Anthony's girlfriend got food poisoning and her last-minute replacement, keeping with the "college reunion" theme, we brought our other buddy Zane along. He's had a rough time of his own, being unemployed for the last three years, aside from piecework and shit jobs. It's nice to get "the gang" back together, but under these circumstances, it's depressing as hell.
But I guess it could be worse. The weather's mild. We still all get along well. The beds seem comfy enough. The place has a certain rustic charm. I just need a lot of beer from now until we go home.
At least someone slipped this e-mail address under my door. Sorry for ranting, but you did say to "open up" about my Inn experience!
Yours,
Shaun Moran
This has got to be the worst trip ever.
A little background. Last Christmas, I proposed to my longtime girlfriend. We set the date for September. Unfortunately, our work schedules basically made honeymooning impossible, so we booked this non-refundable vacation in Maine as sort of a pre-honeymoon. It was going to be us and her brother Anthony and his girlfriend Rebbecca. Anthony and I are very close, he was going to be my best man. He's a really together guy, a VP for a Travel Agency. Very organized, and once you get to know him, pretty funny. We went to college together, and he introduced me to his sister.
Then in July -- as in two weeks ago -- she calls it off. Five years together gone because she's got cold feet. No matter how much I beg and plead, she won't hear me out or take me back. I guess you can't force someone to marry you if they don't want to.
So after all this grief and heartache and trying to figure out when I can get my stuff, I'm stuck with these tickets and reservations I can't seem to get rid of. Logic dictates they would just hand the reservations off to anyone else or, you know, just have some vacant slots in their stupid hotel, but no, apparently logic doesn't apply in Maine and I am honor bound to keep the reservation. Even if I don't show up, I'll be billed. That's bullshit, I'm sorry.
But here I am anyway on my lonely little non-honeymoon. Since the reservation was for two, I decided to invite my old college friend Lisa. She's cute and everything but I never really thought of her that way. Still, I know she's had a few negative experiences, so she keeps elbowing me and reminding me she's not a rebound. Yeah, Lisa, I know.
To top that all off? Anthony's girlfriend got food poisoning and her last-minute replacement, keeping with the "college reunion" theme, we brought our other buddy Zane along. He's had a rough time of his own, being unemployed for the last three years, aside from piecework and shit jobs. It's nice to get "the gang" back together, but under these circumstances, it's depressing as hell.
But I guess it could be worse. The weather's mild. We still all get along well. The beds seem comfy enough. The place has a certain rustic charm. I just need a lot of beer from now until we go home.
At least someone slipped this e-mail address under my door. Sorry for ranting, but you did say to "open up" about my Inn experience!
Yours,
Shaun Moran
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