I hope you don't mind if I haven't been around lately. Even though I'm not full time in school I do spend a lot of time working at the department store and when I get home the last thing I feel like doing is rehashing my day even though I like doing it. Usually I just eat a quick dinner and collapse face first into my pillow. But now it's Christmas break and even though I'm still working a lot I have a bit of breathing room, so here we go.
As you know, I used to be a teenager in a grown woman's body, until I eventually became a woman in a man's body and now a woman in a man's body in a teenage girl's body. I've got all this strange out-of-order life experience that defines everything I do that I can't explain to anyone but you. Whoever "Ellie" was originally, whatever she was meant to become, it looks like she won't be that, especially not if she comes back here. Too much of the life of "Ellie McClay" is defined by that Inn. And that goes beyond what I do.
On Christmas Eve I had dinner with my "dad." To the outside world, Tom McClay was a successful lawyer who had a nervous breakdown and had to leave the profession. I know the truth is that the person inside his body has no qualifications to do his job and so transitioned out into a corporate position. This also led to a trial separation from my "mother," Trudy, who is baffled and hurt and scared and doesn't know why.
She's a wreck and doesn't deserve this kind of misery, but there's not a lot we can do. I'm even less comfortable letting "dad" continue the charade because seeing them as a couple was just too surreal for me.
He confessed to me over dinner that he enjoyed being a man, specifically this man. "I liked being the head of a household, a provider, father, husband... in a way I feel disappointed in myself that I wasn't able to keep it going."
I can't say he's the bad guy here. It's not like he asked to be this person. He did seem to take a bit more pleasure in it than I would have, showing genuine affection for Trudy and trying up until the last to keep the marriage intact.
"What about you?" he asked, getting a bit more jovial and changing the subject, "Any boys out there catching your eye?"
I rolled my eyes.
"Oh come on, it's just you and me. When I met you you were a girl in a guy's body but I always thought of you as a guy. I like this side of you. I thought you were cute with that Callahan kid."
I struggled with the words. "That's not... it wasn't what you think, really."
"Oh come on, I know what a teenage crush is like."
"No really," I told him. "Look, I'll tell you something, something I've known about myself for a long time but was afraid to admit. But you can. NOT. Tell. Trudy."
"I never talk to her anymore."
So I told him this.
A little while ago I was tidying up the change rooms at the end of my shift at the department store. Usually it's just leftover hangars, purse debris and that sort of thing. But this lady had left her bra. It was what men would consider a "good size," meaning she was more bosomy than me but probably not that "big" in terms of dress size. It was a pink lace number, much more mature and feminine than anything I own. And instead of taking it to the lost and found, I pocketed it.
It's crazy, okay. I've been a woman most of my life, I've had plenty of bras of my own. But I developed a fixation on this one, imagining the woman it belonged to, imagining her unclasping herself and leaving it for me to find. And it was after a while of this that I really thought about how much time I spend thinking about other girls, in ways besides the way girls are supposed to think about each other.
I said I've always known, in a way, because I still felt protective and jealous of Emily when we both became girls, even though she no longer resembled (or frankly, acted like) the woman I had dated. I thought it was leftover feelings, and it would go away if I could somehow switch my mind back to being interested in guys.
But that didn't happen. Even though I didn't want to be attracted to Emily, I was and I found myself trying to embrace her social group as a way of being near her. I don't know. I still fought it even though I had read Bryan's old posts from his time as Ellie, being with Leanne... I tried to convince myself that that was his male self asserting itself, even though the emotions he described felt very real and familiar to me. I found myself looking Leanne up on Facebook and seeing pictures of her with other girls, carefree at University, and wondering, when can I be "there"?
I'm already such an outsider, I'm already so different, I already have so many secrets and layers, denying this was a way of taking control of my life for once. But I'm really not in control of this and if I don't admit to the world what I am, what Ellie is, I'll probably never be happy or comfortable.
The small part of me that is convinced we can still get Ellie back in her own body doesn't want to take action, doesn't want to take that choice away from her, prefers to keep playing along. But the larger part, the one that knows I'm probably going to be here as long as I see fit, knows it's my responsibility, and is scared of the truth, and suffering for it.
It's been hard, this winter, ever since I let it out. Keeping it bottled was one thing, but giving it voice, knowing that someone out there knows what I'm hiding has made me feel worse about hiding it from others, like poor Trudy who has been through so much this year (and more than she knows.)
Every time I get close to telling her, every time I think about sitting her down and clearing the air, I remember a conversation I had with "Aunt Anne Marie" sometime during this whole ordeal.
I remember she told me "Sometimes I talk to Trudy and it's like she already knows. It's like she can sense her daughter is not there anymore, even though she doesn't have a clue. It's the saddest thing, really. You seem like a very sweet girl, so I hope you can do this favor and just... be there for her. Be the daughter she needs. Please. She doesn't have a lot left. Be her rock."
I'm trying, really. But it's hard to be someone's rock, if you're crumbling yourself.
Showing posts with label Trudy. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Trudy. Show all posts
Friday, January 04, 2013
Monday, June 15, 2009
Todd/Anne-Marie: Complications
No sooner do I complain about not hearing from Deb and Amanda do I hear from Deb and Amanda. Saturday night, the transformation occurred, and Deb floated me an e-mail to keep me appraised of the situation.
There's been some... complication. It seems as though, through a confusion of sleeping habits with the previous Deb and Amanda, they wound up in the wrong bodies - Deb as Amanda and vice versa. So they're trying to figure out what they can do to resolve the situation and when. But they're probably very relieved just to have ovaries again, so there's that.
Which means, suddenly I can feel a new level of excitement that my body is officially waiting for me in Maine. It makes me wonder exactly what my body's status is... it's easy to think of as "limbo" but when there's a literal implication there, you begin to wonder what exactly that means. To think there's some kind of subspace storage facility where my body is being kept waiting... hmph. Maybe we're in the Matrix after all.
Sorry, this is the first time in a while that I've let my mind wonder about these things. For so long it's been "keep your head down and play Anne-Marie" that I forgot what a totally unreal paranormal experience I've been through. It's become sadly mundane and now that it's back again my way of thinking about it has changed. Is The Trading Post the only place on Earth that can do this? What is the origin of the curse? We may never know.
There are still a few different possible hitches in the plan but right now it's all systems go for me and Bry. That's not to say there haven't been obstacles.
Just last night, after a hectic yet subdued family gathering for Anne-Marie's birthday, Hal and I were getting ready for bed when he turns to me and says "So, you're really planning on taking Ellie to Maine next weekend?"
I give him the crook-eye and deadpan, "Yep."
"Are you sure about that?"
I roll my eyes. "What are you talking about?"
"Ellie's been through a lot these past few months, with school and the hospital and everything. Is it really a good idea to take her away from home for such a long time?"
I try to bury my frustration, "Of course. This is exactly what she needs. She's been looking forward to this for months."
"But things have changed."
I'm not keen on having this argument, because I won't let him win. "Hal. What is this really about?"
He looks somewhat embarrassed, "I was talking to Trudy and she's really worried. She doesn't want to let Ellie away from home, in case something happens."
I look him in the eye and try to use my soothing "mom" voice on him. "Nothing is going to happen to that girl. She's going to relax and get some sunshine. Trust me."
He grimaces, "I'm not the one you need to convince. My sister's feeling very protective. You know how she can get."
"Well, she'll just have to roll with this one, because if Ellie doesn't go, she'll be... heartbroken."
Hal won't let it go, saying, "I just wish you'd hear her out on this. You're a mom, how would you feel?"
Fortunately I have a secret weapon in situations like these where I just want to end the argument. I said "How does this feel?" and slipped my hand into his trousers.
Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm a devil woman. Using sex as a weapon. I should be above that, but it did the trick. He was satisfied, I was... not overly disappointed I suppose... and he fell asleep afterward, not breathing another word about it.
So sue me if, in my last week of womanhood, I want to use my femininity to my advantage. It's for a greater good. A month from now this is all history.
-Todd/AM
There's been some... complication. It seems as though, through a confusion of sleeping habits with the previous Deb and Amanda, they wound up in the wrong bodies - Deb as Amanda and vice versa. So they're trying to figure out what they can do to resolve the situation and when. But they're probably very relieved just to have ovaries again, so there's that.
Which means, suddenly I can feel a new level of excitement that my body is officially waiting for me in Maine. It makes me wonder exactly what my body's status is... it's easy to think of as "limbo" but when there's a literal implication there, you begin to wonder what exactly that means. To think there's some kind of subspace storage facility where my body is being kept waiting... hmph. Maybe we're in the Matrix after all.
Sorry, this is the first time in a while that I've let my mind wonder about these things. For so long it's been "keep your head down and play Anne-Marie" that I forgot what a totally unreal paranormal experience I've been through. It's become sadly mundane and now that it's back again my way of thinking about it has changed. Is The Trading Post the only place on Earth that can do this? What is the origin of the curse? We may never know.
There are still a few different possible hitches in the plan but right now it's all systems go for me and Bry. That's not to say there haven't been obstacles.
Just last night, after a hectic yet subdued family gathering for Anne-Marie's birthday, Hal and I were getting ready for bed when he turns to me and says "So, you're really planning on taking Ellie to Maine next weekend?"
I give him the crook-eye and deadpan, "Yep."
"Are you sure about that?"
I roll my eyes. "What are you talking about?"
"Ellie's been through a lot these past few months, with school and the hospital and everything. Is it really a good idea to take her away from home for such a long time?"
I try to bury my frustration, "Of course. This is exactly what she needs. She's been looking forward to this for months."
"But things have changed."
I'm not keen on having this argument, because I won't let him win. "Hal. What is this really about?"
He looks somewhat embarrassed, "I was talking to Trudy and she's really worried. She doesn't want to let Ellie away from home, in case something happens."
I look him in the eye and try to use my soothing "mom" voice on him. "Nothing is going to happen to that girl. She's going to relax and get some sunshine. Trust me."
He grimaces, "I'm not the one you need to convince. My sister's feeling very protective. You know how she can get."
"Well, she'll just have to roll with this one, because if Ellie doesn't go, she'll be... heartbroken."
Hal won't let it go, saying, "I just wish you'd hear her out on this. You're a mom, how would you feel?"
Fortunately I have a secret weapon in situations like these where I just want to end the argument. I said "How does this feel?" and slipped my hand into his trousers.
Yeah, yeah, I know, I'm a devil woman. Using sex as a weapon. I should be above that, but it did the trick. He was satisfied, I was... not overly disappointed I suppose... and he fell asleep afterward, not breathing another word about it.
So sue me if, in my last week of womanhood, I want to use my femininity to my advantage. It's for a greater good. A month from now this is all history.
-Todd/AM
Thursday, May 28, 2009
Todd/Anne-Marie: Panic attack
Sorry about the delay. I was only at the hospital a short while, and then I got caught up with Anne-Marie stuff the last couple days I forgot to update you guys. Reading the message back, it must've seemed quite alarming... at the time I felt very urgent about it, and didn't know the details.
When we got there, the McClays were already there. They brought us up to speed, saying "Ellie" had collapsed in her room, unconscious, but was awake now. Apparently, she'd suffered a panic attack. She was asking for me, but Trudy didn't want to let me go in there alone. She didn't understand why I should go talk to her, and I guess there was no way for me to properly explain it. So I let her come in.
I sat down next to her, that weak-looking, bleary-eyed girl who hardly resembles the man who'd been my friend a year ago. She weakly smiled a wide, bright grin. Trudy hovered nearby.
"What happened?" I asked.
She told me she could hardly explain it... she was in her room doing homework, and her mind started to wander... she could barely describe exactly what she was thinking about, but it seemed to trigger this attack. She started to hyperventilate, feel dizzy, then... blackout. I've known Bry a long time and he's been able to deal with a lot in his life, so this is just so bizarre, to see him put down by homework.
So I asked "Is it about the trip? Are you feeling nervous?" Trudy flashes a disapproving glare.
She leans into me and mutters, "It's complicated." She has yet to explain exactly how, but I've told her she should check in on the blog when she feels ready.
She's out of the hospital now. They're thinking of getting her on anti-anxiety meds to prevent further episodes.
I'm just shocked, you know? Bry's a pretty resilient guy. He was like a rock to me, really stable. I'm feeling a little guilty I haven't been there for him as much as he was for me, back in the day. There's obviously a lot going on.
So there it is.
-Todd/AM
When we got there, the McClays were already there. They brought us up to speed, saying "Ellie" had collapsed in her room, unconscious, but was awake now. Apparently, she'd suffered a panic attack. She was asking for me, but Trudy didn't want to let me go in there alone. She didn't understand why I should go talk to her, and I guess there was no way for me to properly explain it. So I let her come in.
I sat down next to her, that weak-looking, bleary-eyed girl who hardly resembles the man who'd been my friend a year ago. She weakly smiled a wide, bright grin. Trudy hovered nearby.
"What happened?" I asked.
She told me she could hardly explain it... she was in her room doing homework, and her mind started to wander... she could barely describe exactly what she was thinking about, but it seemed to trigger this attack. She started to hyperventilate, feel dizzy, then... blackout. I've known Bry a long time and he's been able to deal with a lot in his life, so this is just so bizarre, to see him put down by homework.
So I asked "Is it about the trip? Are you feeling nervous?" Trudy flashes a disapproving glare.
She leans into me and mutters, "It's complicated." She has yet to explain exactly how, but I've told her she should check in on the blog when she feels ready.
She's out of the hospital now. They're thinking of getting her on anti-anxiety meds to prevent further episodes.
I'm just shocked, you know? Bry's a pretty resilient guy. He was like a rock to me, really stable. I'm feeling a little guilty I haven't been there for him as much as he was for me, back in the day. There's obviously a lot going on.
So there it is.
-Todd/AM
Monday, April 13, 2009
Todd/Anne-Marie: Easter
Have I mentioned what a chore it is to put up with the Adkissons sometime? Not Hal, and not the kids, I mean, but... the family unit. Sure, as Todd I've had some family gatherings, but those were pretty tough to deal with and they were my actual family. With all the crap I deal with while playing Anne-Marie, my trip to Maine can't come soon enough.
Take Trudy (please.) Hal's judgmental sister, who has found every bit of incompetence I've shown to be more evidence Anne-Marie isn't right for her brother, even though they've been married for like 12 years and have two kids and everything, and all those mistakes have more to do with me having less than a year's worth of experience as a wife and mother. Like when she sees me and scoffs, "I swear it's like you don't even know how to dress yourself," it hurts more than it should, considering the circumstances (why should I be offended? I just am.) It's just a really bitchy thing to say.
This weekend involved more than the usual amount of family BS. Hal's and Trudy's (and Wayne, their other brother) father is in the hospital. He's in his 70's, has been undergoing chemotherapy, and had a stroke. Things do not look good. So we brought the kids over to see him, and he couldn't say much, and we wished him a quick recovery before being sent off. It was weird to me... I have never met this old man, he's just somebody's sick grandpa. And I feel bad, and I don't feel bad, and I feel bad for not feeling as bad as I should. The entire transformation has thrown my perception of life and death out of whack (and don't get my started on the way my mind wandered when we went to the Easter service... religion is so different when you've been part of a profoundly bizarre experience like this.)
So Trudy chastises me for not seeming concerned about her father, and I say of course I am (not really but she has no right to accuse me.) So, having had enough of it, I just close my eyes and let Todd out for one little moment.
"Trudy... you are such a bitch."
Okay, that's probably unfair of me to say considering we had just gotten back from the hospital where her father is lying, possibly on his deathbed. But I'd seriously had enough of her treatment toward me. I've tried being nice but she snipes at me at every opportunity. I've left it off the blog because it doesn't enter into the Inn-related things I tend to talk about, and I don't wanna remember her bitter old face when I'm back in Toronto, but this has really been getting to me lately. And all I ever wanted to know is why, and I guess I got a little closer to the answer when she retorted, "Oh, don't act like I'm the one who started this."
Not having Anne-Marie's backstory to draw on, I just sat there silently, while she smugly walked away. In a rather emotional state, I called up Anne-Marie to ask her what just happened, and she sighed and said she had some things to explain to me.
Apparently the animosity between Trudy and Anne-Marie has been there from the start, going back before Anne-Marie and Hal were married. Trudy and her husband were going through a rough patch in their young marriage and had a trial separation, during which time the husband, Chris (I think?) met Anne-Marie and began a fling with her. Then he reconciled with Trudy and somehow Anne-Marie fell in with Hal and eventually they got married. That would seem to be the end of it, but I guess Trudy has never come to grips with the fact that her brother's wife has had sex with her husband, and has always been suspicious of the two of us.
And here I thought this was all because Anne-Marie wanted to be Ellie's cool aunt.
So, the rest of the weekend proceeded like that. Bryan's getting weirdly aloof and I don't much like it, but I guess there's no problem so long as things get back to normal as soon as they can. After that confrontation - and finally learning what it was about - I just tuned it out. So, she doesn't like the way I cook the ham, or how I clean the dishes. Whatever. Just more impetus for me to leap back out of this life and forget it. It's not my fault she can't let go of grudges from over a decade ago. In fact, if there's one lesson I'm going to take with me from this profound experience, it's that life isn't worth holding on to stupid things like that for too long. It's hard to say, if you haven't spent a year in someone else's body, exactly how one reaches that conclusion. I used to think all of our experiences were what made us, what set us in stone, but if there's one thing I've learned, it's that nothing is so monumental it will always remain. Things change.
And of course, I'm ready to change back.
-Todd/AM
Take Trudy (please.) Hal's judgmental sister, who has found every bit of incompetence I've shown to be more evidence Anne-Marie isn't right for her brother, even though they've been married for like 12 years and have two kids and everything, and all those mistakes have more to do with me having less than a year's worth of experience as a wife and mother. Like when she sees me and scoffs, "I swear it's like you don't even know how to dress yourself," it hurts more than it should, considering the circumstances (why should I be offended? I just am.) It's just a really bitchy thing to say.
This weekend involved more than the usual amount of family BS. Hal's and Trudy's (and Wayne, their other brother) father is in the hospital. He's in his 70's, has been undergoing chemotherapy, and had a stroke. Things do not look good. So we brought the kids over to see him, and he couldn't say much, and we wished him a quick recovery before being sent off. It was weird to me... I have never met this old man, he's just somebody's sick grandpa. And I feel bad, and I don't feel bad, and I feel bad for not feeling as bad as I should. The entire transformation has thrown my perception of life and death out of whack (and don't get my started on the way my mind wandered when we went to the Easter service... religion is so different when you've been part of a profoundly bizarre experience like this.)
So Trudy chastises me for not seeming concerned about her father, and I say of course I am (not really but she has no right to accuse me.) So, having had enough of it, I just close my eyes and let Todd out for one little moment.
"Trudy... you are such a bitch."
Okay, that's probably unfair of me to say considering we had just gotten back from the hospital where her father is lying, possibly on his deathbed. But I'd seriously had enough of her treatment toward me. I've tried being nice but she snipes at me at every opportunity. I've left it off the blog because it doesn't enter into the Inn-related things I tend to talk about, and I don't wanna remember her bitter old face when I'm back in Toronto, but this has really been getting to me lately. And all I ever wanted to know is why, and I guess I got a little closer to the answer when she retorted, "Oh, don't act like I'm the one who started this."
Not having Anne-Marie's backstory to draw on, I just sat there silently, while she smugly walked away. In a rather emotional state, I called up Anne-Marie to ask her what just happened, and she sighed and said she had some things to explain to me.
Apparently the animosity between Trudy and Anne-Marie has been there from the start, going back before Anne-Marie and Hal were married. Trudy and her husband were going through a rough patch in their young marriage and had a trial separation, during which time the husband, Chris (I think?) met Anne-Marie and began a fling with her. Then he reconciled with Trudy and somehow Anne-Marie fell in with Hal and eventually they got married. That would seem to be the end of it, but I guess Trudy has never come to grips with the fact that her brother's wife has had sex with her husband, and has always been suspicious of the two of us.
And here I thought this was all because Anne-Marie wanted to be Ellie's cool aunt.
So, the rest of the weekend proceeded like that. Bryan's getting weirdly aloof and I don't much like it, but I guess there's no problem so long as things get back to normal as soon as they can. After that confrontation - and finally learning what it was about - I just tuned it out. So, she doesn't like the way I cook the ham, or how I clean the dishes. Whatever. Just more impetus for me to leap back out of this life and forget it. It's not my fault she can't let go of grudges from over a decade ago. In fact, if there's one lesson I'm going to take with me from this profound experience, it's that life isn't worth holding on to stupid things like that for too long. It's hard to say, if you haven't spent a year in someone else's body, exactly how one reaches that conclusion. I used to think all of our experiences were what made us, what set us in stone, but if there's one thing I've learned, it's that nothing is so monumental it will always remain. Things change.
And of course, I'm ready to change back.
-Todd/AM
Monday, February 09, 2009
Bryan/Ellie: No frills
I don't write here much because obviously Todd is the writer between the two of us. I try sometimes, when I can't sleep, I'll open up my laptop and log in and start trying to talk about life and stuff, and then I just hate what I come up with and delete it. It's not even really anything anyone would be interested, more about being in school than being Ellie. Todd's posts are more interesting, my life is boring. Ellie's life is boring. Whoever's life it is.
But I've been having a shitty day so I thought I'd at least try.
There's this supermarket in Canada - No Frills. It's a discount place, where poor people and cheap people buy discount no name stuff. It's where we did most of our shopping in Toronto and I both hated and loved it. The prices were low enough that you could get some good mileage out of your dollar (when you were a broke ass like me) but the atmosphere was... well, it was no frills. Like shopping in a warehouse - brightly lit one with yellow signs everywhere. It hurt my head. And the aisles were about a cart and a half wide so if you saw some soccer mom or old lady coming the opposite direction it would be a tight squeeze. Anyway though, that was my life and I liked it - no frills. Crappy apartment, cheap groceries, dirty clothes. Did all my shopping at Valu Village, where old people sell their clothes so they can be re-sold to hipsters. A good place for old t-shirts, frayed jeans, corduroys, jackets, plaid shirts, the kinda stuff I loved wearing. My life lately has been the opposite.
Day in day out I have to wear the private school uniform - white blouse, plaid skirt. Ridiculously short plaid skirt. I don't even get it - is the principal (or whoever makes these decisions) trying to drive the teenage boys crazy? I went to a public high school just at the dawn of the thong craze. When a girl wanted to dress slutty, it was by choice.
But that, I can handle. Not having to make decisions about my clothes is fine by me. And I'd be cool wearing granny panties all the time too, if Ellie had any, but no such luck. This is where I weed out the pervs, talking about a 14-year-old's panties. Most of them are too fancy for my care and it's not like anyone's ever gonna see them. But laundry gets down and I've gotta go through em all.
My friend Emily has been trying to get me to dress up more on the weekends. I usually favour like, a hoodie and jeans. Basic stuff. A few months ago I ran up a big tab on Trudy's credit card at Snorg Tees so I could have some clothes I liked wearing. She was annoyed but allowed it. Trudy's a champ like that, except when she's being bitchy, which is just about always. What a bitch.
Emily is starting to get really cozy with this guy, Mike, and it's pissing me off. I'd explain this to her but then I'd have to come up with a reason why. My first theory is that he's just a dick and I don't like him. He's a teenage boy trying to bang my friend. But then I thought - so what? I was a teenage boy once and I tried to bang plenty of girls. I can't blame him for that. Then I thought, he's coming between me and my only real friend. It isn't that Emily's the only friend I've got... I've made some progress with Ellie's old pals. I just prefer Emily because she didn't know Ellie (which is probably gonna suck for her once I'm gone.) So yeah, that must be it, right? Because she's spending all her time with him and we never hang out at lunch. Except actually, she keeps inviting me over for dinners and movie nights and sleepovers, and when we cancel, I'm the one who is pulling out. So if anything, she's being the good friend! And I suck!
Todd was no help either. "Aunt Annie" was basking in the afterglow of her sexual awakening when we talked about it, and she suggested I actually liked Mike. And I'm just like "dude, don't even go there." I really don't think that's the case.
I mean, okay, I did kinda cheer her on when it came to the whole Hal thing. But I mean, come on, she was sleeping in the same bed as him, and Anne Marie's been around the block. I go to school with about a thousand gross teenage boys. I don't give any of them a single look.
So I came home late, frustrated, and hungry, and Trudy won't let me have a snack because dinner's on the way. So I got up to my room and got caught up in this flame war on a forum about whether the new Springsteen album sucks (it doesn't,) and whether the new season of Lost is any good (it is.) And dinner's still not ready and the cat won't leave me alone and my tits are driving me crazy and I just spent about 15 minutes beating the shit out of Ellie's stuffed animals, pillows and mattress and crying my fucking eyes out. And Trudy didn't come up to ask what was wrong, and I don't want her to, but I think it's shitty that she didn't.
So yeah. There it all is. Life sucks.
I dunno man. Maybe you'll hear from me again later? Peace.
-Bry/El
But I've been having a shitty day so I thought I'd at least try.
There's this supermarket in Canada - No Frills. It's a discount place, where poor people and cheap people buy discount no name stuff. It's where we did most of our shopping in Toronto and I both hated and loved it. The prices were low enough that you could get some good mileage out of your dollar (when you were a broke ass like me) but the atmosphere was... well, it was no frills. Like shopping in a warehouse - brightly lit one with yellow signs everywhere. It hurt my head. And the aisles were about a cart and a half wide so if you saw some soccer mom or old lady coming the opposite direction it would be a tight squeeze. Anyway though, that was my life and I liked it - no frills. Crappy apartment, cheap groceries, dirty clothes. Did all my shopping at Valu Village, where old people sell their clothes so they can be re-sold to hipsters. A good place for old t-shirts, frayed jeans, corduroys, jackets, plaid shirts, the kinda stuff I loved wearing. My life lately has been the opposite.
Day in day out I have to wear the private school uniform - white blouse, plaid skirt. Ridiculously short plaid skirt. I don't even get it - is the principal (or whoever makes these decisions) trying to drive the teenage boys crazy? I went to a public high school just at the dawn of the thong craze. When a girl wanted to dress slutty, it was by choice.
But that, I can handle. Not having to make decisions about my clothes is fine by me. And I'd be cool wearing granny panties all the time too, if Ellie had any, but no such luck. This is where I weed out the pervs, talking about a 14-year-old's panties. Most of them are too fancy for my care and it's not like anyone's ever gonna see them. But laundry gets down and I've gotta go through em all.
My friend Emily has been trying to get me to dress up more on the weekends. I usually favour like, a hoodie and jeans. Basic stuff. A few months ago I ran up a big tab on Trudy's credit card at Snorg Tees so I could have some clothes I liked wearing. She was annoyed but allowed it. Trudy's a champ like that, except when she's being bitchy, which is just about always. What a bitch.
Emily is starting to get really cozy with this guy, Mike, and it's pissing me off. I'd explain this to her but then I'd have to come up with a reason why. My first theory is that he's just a dick and I don't like him. He's a teenage boy trying to bang my friend. But then I thought - so what? I was a teenage boy once and I tried to bang plenty of girls. I can't blame him for that. Then I thought, he's coming between me and my only real friend. It isn't that Emily's the only friend I've got... I've made some progress with Ellie's old pals. I just prefer Emily because she didn't know Ellie (which is probably gonna suck for her once I'm gone.) So yeah, that must be it, right? Because she's spending all her time with him and we never hang out at lunch. Except actually, she keeps inviting me over for dinners and movie nights and sleepovers, and when we cancel, I'm the one who is pulling out. So if anything, she's being the good friend! And I suck!
Todd was no help either. "Aunt Annie" was basking in the afterglow of her sexual awakening when we talked about it, and she suggested I actually liked Mike. And I'm just like "dude, don't even go there." I really don't think that's the case.
I mean, okay, I did kinda cheer her on when it came to the whole Hal thing. But I mean, come on, she was sleeping in the same bed as him, and Anne Marie's been around the block. I go to school with about a thousand gross teenage boys. I don't give any of them a single look.
So I came home late, frustrated, and hungry, and Trudy won't let me have a snack because dinner's on the way. So I got up to my room and got caught up in this flame war on a forum about whether the new Springsteen album sucks (it doesn't,) and whether the new season of Lost is any good (it is.) And dinner's still not ready and the cat won't leave me alone and my tits are driving me crazy and I just spent about 15 minutes beating the shit out of Ellie's stuffed animals, pillows and mattress and crying my fucking eyes out. And Trudy didn't come up to ask what was wrong, and I don't want her to, but I think it's shitty that she didn't.
So yeah. There it all is. Life sucks.
I dunno man. Maybe you'll hear from me again later? Peace.
-Bry/El
Tuesday, October 21, 2008
Todd/Anne-Marie: Walking around like I own the place...
I could risk running myself ragged these days. When I'm not pretending as Anne-Marie, doing chores, running personal errands, conversing with Bryan, asleep or simply trying not to go insane, I'm poring over the archives of this blog and writing bits and pieces of my own entries. I want to tell as much of my story as I can manage, both because I'm a storyteller by nature, and because, mortifying as it has been, it's the kind of life experience that can't go unexpressed. I have this theory: the first thing our minds forget are routines. I know the saying goes "old habits die hard" - two and a half months later I still unzip my jeans standing in front of the toilet but routines are different. Every time I had a new schedule in school, I would find it hard, after a few months, to remember what it was like only the semester before. We evolve, and we adjust.
That, of course, won't stop me from working toward my ultimate goal of getting MY life back. I would like to adjust OUT of this life as easily as I evolved INTO it. and when that happens, all this will be like some long ago ghost story. SO I want it all on record.
In reading some of the early posts on this site - back when Art and Jake became Liz and Ashlyn - I've been noting some of the distinctions between their situations and mine. They were, like, older than me, but became younger. I went the opposite direction. They were kinda lucky and frankly I don't blame them for taking the hands they were dealt. The idea of restaging a transformation seems like it leaves a lot of room for error and even thinking about going back there gives me the willies. Look at what happened to Art. I'm a little lucky I guess because I've met the new Todd - not in person but we've spoken - and unless I'm being lied to, the new Todd and Bryan as eager to leave our lives as we are to reclaim them. That doesn't mean it's foolproof though, and we have a lot of time to just hurry up and wait. I'm stuck in the life of Anne-Marie Adkisson for however many months. Could be worse, but could be better...
The house was empty when we got home. It was a relief and kind of a nightmare since I knew I'd have to meet Hal and the kids sooner or later and I didn't want to just sit alone in this big empty place. So I invited Bryan in. We rang up Ellie's parents - the McClays - and told them we were home and that "Ellie" would be spending the night here. They wanted to know why and I just kinda fumbled my way around a vague excuse involving travel weariness. They accepted it - it was nearly midnight - and told me to have her home as soon as I could. Your daughter disappearing for two weeks is probably going to put you on edge, so I didn't hold their curt tone against them.
We went around turning on light switches, opening doors, trying to get a feel for the place. The basement is partitioned into a living room/TV area, a game room with a pool hall, dart board and beer fridge, a computer room and laundry room. Upstairs there is a very dainty living room with lots of, like, fine china in glass cases, a fully stocked practically gourmet kitchen, another TV room, and the big foyer. There are five rooms upstairs, one each for the kids, the master bedroom, guest room and Hal's office. I did a few laps around the house so that when people started coming home, I didn't look like this was the first time I'd seen the place.
After surveying the whole place, Bry and I settled in the basement. She started channel-surfing. "We got anything to drink?"
I shrugged, "There's probably some Coke or Sprite around here."
She glares at me, "Yeah, but, like... how about an MGD?"
I flopped down on the couch and rubbed my temples. "I don't know about that, dude. You're like, 14." She rolled her eyes, "You know that's not really true." I told her how irresponsible it was for me to just grab a beer and hand it to a little girl and she kinda flipped out on me. "What are you, my mom? You were all too happy to smoke up with me in Maine, now you won't even let me have one beer?" Well, the effect of that one joint I mentioned was way more drastic than I'd ever seen. I wasn't eager to repeat it. 14-year-old girls do not have strong constitutions.
"Look," she stood up, "I just want to relax. I'm not going to drink a whole case, I'm not even going to make this a regular thing. Tomorrow I have to start acting like a little girl. Just let me have this one thing."
She walked over to the fridge and grabbed a bottle. She held the twist-top in her hand. I said nothing. Fsst. She opened it.
"Wait," I sighed.
"What?"
"...grab me one while you're over there."
This is why I should not be allowed to be a parent. I remember when I was 14, out at parties with the older kids, getting lit for the first time on Captain Morgan. And I don't even have any regrets about the shit I got up to. So how can I tell this comparatively mature, reasonable person she can't have one beer? In good conscience, I mean.
It didn't really matter, because she took one sip and got this sour look on her face. "Oh, man. I forgot how bad beer tastes when you first start drinking." I laughed. There was nothing wrong with Annie's tongue. Bry sipped along anyway.
"This is gonna be a long trip," she groaned.
We fell asleep on the couch in the basement. I woke up a few hours later and draped a blanket over her. It was kind of adorable, since, while asleep, you'd never guess that just a few hours earlier she'd been reminiscing about the time in high school when she nailed Cindy Cortez behind a Petro Canada.
I staggered up to the bedroom. It's a big bedroom, it's got a big bed. And a nice bathroom. I took off my top and shorts and tossed them in the hamper. I changed into one of Anne-Marie's nightgowns. Putting on an item of someone else's clothing for the first time is a weird feeling, especially when you've never worn such a garment. So I changed out of it and into some cotton PJ's - it was hot, so I used a light shirt and short shorts. Then I got under the covers, and...
...bluh.
Some of you probably get it when I say how hard it is to fall asleep when you're TRYING to. I couldn't get comfortable, I couldn't stop thinking, after three days, about my anatomy, and when I wasn't thinking about that, I was thinking about Anne-Marie's life and how messed up my situation was. I started to sweat and shake and feel the pressure and get paranoid. Every moment brought me further from sleep. So I got up and found the answer in the medicine cabinet. There was half a thing of Ambien in there. I don't like pills - that's a long story - but I just needed to zonk out.
And zonk I did. After a while, I fell into the deepest sleep I'd had since that last night before the change, after the concert. I woke up the next morning feeling so mellow, which meant miraculously I had outslept the effects of the drug... which meant it was about 11:00. And something was burning.
I sprang out of bed and flew down the stairs and found Bry - hair stringy and wet, dressed in a bathrobe, working on what appeared to be a pan of scrambled eggs.
"Mornin' Auntie Anne," she chirped. "Breakfast?"
I grumbled, "Don't call me that.... and I could eat, yeah."
She passed me a plate. "Good timing. Nice PJ's."
I looked down to see my nipples standing up straight under my top. "Christ, these things. You're lucky you don't have to deal with 'em. I could hardly sleep."
"Yeah, I'd like to get home before I start having to think about that... they're all ready kind of... never mind." She took a seat across from me. "So what's the deal? Why's the house empty?"
I explained that Anne-Marie's letter had told me the kids were at soccer camp all summer. That was why she had taken Elyssa to Maine for her birthday, because she didn't have her own kids to worry about at the time. I found out later Hal was on a camping (or fishing or something) trip with old frat buddies. Whatever. At the time his absence unnerved me, but it came to nothing.
We ate in silence a while, forks ringing on plates in the quiet house. Finally, she said, "So this is it, huh?"
I nodded sternly, "Guess so." I finished up. "I guess I'll have a shower and then figure out how to get you home. Get dressed."
I walked back upstairs. She called after me, "Have fun in there!" I wanted to smack her. It was her stupid little running joke about how we should be taking advantage of these bodies. I found it particularly unnerving given how young she is, (although when I was 14...)
Once we were all ready to go, we piled into Anne-Marie's SUV. I felt pretty overwhelmed there. I hadn't driven in a while, and at the time, it was a little Toyota, not a big thing like this. Still, we plugged Ellie's address into the GPS (and thank God for that!) and I drove cautiously through the curves of this little suburban nowhere place.
Bry and I went up to the door. She gave me a pat on the shoulder to say goodbye, and got into character for the first time, bounding up to Ellie's room heedlessly.
Standing in the doorway, I was ambushed by Mrs. McClay, Hal's sister. "So are you going to tell me what happened?"
I felt like a deer in the headlights, man. Trying to remember the cover story, I stammered, "We, uh, got our luggage, uh, lost. There was a mix-up. The inn let us stay until, um, they found it."
"You couldn't call?" She sneered. "We were worried sick."
I averted my eyes. "My, uh, cell charger was in the, uh, in the luggage." I felt like I was in the principal's office. Mrs. McClay - Trudy - was quite a few years older than Anne-Marie and seemed gravely displeased with what had happened. I can't say I blamed her, either.
She just stared at me for a while until finally she said, "Well, it sounds like you had a very rough few weeks. Still, you should be more responsible than that, Anne."
I couldn't feel the guilt she was trying to make me feel, since it wasn't my fault at all. Attempting to level with her would be utterly fruitless, and in the best case scenario, if she DID believe me, I am then dealing with a mother whose child is missing. So I just swallowed all her ill will, nodded and said, "Yep. Well, I gotta go..." I've never wanted to leave someplace quicker in my life.
She just kept glaring at me. I got the feeling this was not the beginning of tensions between Anne and Trudy. I had no desire to make it worse - or even try to fix it. I just wanted to leave. She didn't stop me, but I had to fight some kind of invisible force field to do so, because of how unfinished that confrontation was. I felt sick.
I walked, shell-shocked, to the car. I got in and followed the GPS back to the Adkisson place. Then, once I was in the garage, I turned the key, unbuckled the seat-belt, and... cried.
I'm tempted - believe me - to blame it on PMS or some other female chicanery, but the fact is it's just what I wanted to do. Not that I was a cryer as a man, but in a situation like this... nobody's watching, nobody sees you as a man, your entire life has gone to hell in very short order... shit man, you've just gotta let the tears come.
I straightened myself back up and went back inside. I had no idea when Hal would be back. It was time to start playing my part.
-Todd
That, of course, won't stop me from working toward my ultimate goal of getting MY life back. I would like to adjust OUT of this life as easily as I evolved INTO it. and when that happens, all this will be like some long ago ghost story. SO I want it all on record.
In reading some of the early posts on this site - back when Art and Jake became Liz and Ashlyn - I've been noting some of the distinctions between their situations and mine. They were, like, older than me, but became younger. I went the opposite direction. They were kinda lucky and frankly I don't blame them for taking the hands they were dealt. The idea of restaging a transformation seems like it leaves a lot of room for error and even thinking about going back there gives me the willies. Look at what happened to Art. I'm a little lucky I guess because I've met the new Todd - not in person but we've spoken - and unless I'm being lied to, the new Todd and Bryan as eager to leave our lives as we are to reclaim them. That doesn't mean it's foolproof though, and we have a lot of time to just hurry up and wait. I'm stuck in the life of Anne-Marie Adkisson for however many months. Could be worse, but could be better...
The house was empty when we got home. It was a relief and kind of a nightmare since I knew I'd have to meet Hal and the kids sooner or later and I didn't want to just sit alone in this big empty place. So I invited Bryan in. We rang up Ellie's parents - the McClays - and told them we were home and that "Ellie" would be spending the night here. They wanted to know why and I just kinda fumbled my way around a vague excuse involving travel weariness. They accepted it - it was nearly midnight - and told me to have her home as soon as I could. Your daughter disappearing for two weeks is probably going to put you on edge, so I didn't hold their curt tone against them.
We went around turning on light switches, opening doors, trying to get a feel for the place. The basement is partitioned into a living room/TV area, a game room with a pool hall, dart board and beer fridge, a computer room and laundry room. Upstairs there is a very dainty living room with lots of, like, fine china in glass cases, a fully stocked practically gourmet kitchen, another TV room, and the big foyer. There are five rooms upstairs, one each for the kids, the master bedroom, guest room and Hal's office. I did a few laps around the house so that when people started coming home, I didn't look like this was the first time I'd seen the place.
After surveying the whole place, Bry and I settled in the basement. She started channel-surfing. "We got anything to drink?"
I shrugged, "There's probably some Coke or Sprite around here."
She glares at me, "Yeah, but, like... how about an MGD?"
I flopped down on the couch and rubbed my temples. "I don't know about that, dude. You're like, 14." She rolled her eyes, "You know that's not really true." I told her how irresponsible it was for me to just grab a beer and hand it to a little girl and she kinda flipped out on me. "What are you, my mom? You were all too happy to smoke up with me in Maine, now you won't even let me have one beer?" Well, the effect of that one joint I mentioned was way more drastic than I'd ever seen. I wasn't eager to repeat it. 14-year-old girls do not have strong constitutions.
"Look," she stood up, "I just want to relax. I'm not going to drink a whole case, I'm not even going to make this a regular thing. Tomorrow I have to start acting like a little girl. Just let me have this one thing."
She walked over to the fridge and grabbed a bottle. She held the twist-top in her hand. I said nothing. Fsst. She opened it.
"Wait," I sighed.
"What?"
"...grab me one while you're over there."
This is why I should not be allowed to be a parent. I remember when I was 14, out at parties with the older kids, getting lit for the first time on Captain Morgan. And I don't even have any regrets about the shit I got up to. So how can I tell this comparatively mature, reasonable person she can't have one beer? In good conscience, I mean.
It didn't really matter, because she took one sip and got this sour look on her face. "Oh, man. I forgot how bad beer tastes when you first start drinking." I laughed. There was nothing wrong with Annie's tongue. Bry sipped along anyway.
"This is gonna be a long trip," she groaned.
We fell asleep on the couch in the basement. I woke up a few hours later and draped a blanket over her. It was kind of adorable, since, while asleep, you'd never guess that just a few hours earlier she'd been reminiscing about the time in high school when she nailed Cindy Cortez behind a Petro Canada.
I staggered up to the bedroom. It's a big bedroom, it's got a big bed. And a nice bathroom. I took off my top and shorts and tossed them in the hamper. I changed into one of Anne-Marie's nightgowns. Putting on an item of someone else's clothing for the first time is a weird feeling, especially when you've never worn such a garment. So I changed out of it and into some cotton PJ's - it was hot, so I used a light shirt and short shorts. Then I got under the covers, and...
...bluh.
Some of you probably get it when I say how hard it is to fall asleep when you're TRYING to. I couldn't get comfortable, I couldn't stop thinking, after three days, about my anatomy, and when I wasn't thinking about that, I was thinking about Anne-Marie's life and how messed up my situation was. I started to sweat and shake and feel the pressure and get paranoid. Every moment brought me further from sleep. So I got up and found the answer in the medicine cabinet. There was half a thing of Ambien in there. I don't like pills - that's a long story - but I just needed to zonk out.
And zonk I did. After a while, I fell into the deepest sleep I'd had since that last night before the change, after the concert. I woke up the next morning feeling so mellow, which meant miraculously I had outslept the effects of the drug... which meant it was about 11:00. And something was burning.
I sprang out of bed and flew down the stairs and found Bry - hair stringy and wet, dressed in a bathrobe, working on what appeared to be a pan of scrambled eggs.
"Mornin' Auntie Anne," she chirped. "Breakfast?"
I grumbled, "Don't call me that.... and I could eat, yeah."
She passed me a plate. "Good timing. Nice PJ's."
I looked down to see my nipples standing up straight under my top. "Christ, these things. You're lucky you don't have to deal with 'em. I could hardly sleep."
"Yeah, I'd like to get home before I start having to think about that... they're all ready kind of... never mind." She took a seat across from me. "So what's the deal? Why's the house empty?"
I explained that Anne-Marie's letter had told me the kids were at soccer camp all summer. That was why she had taken Elyssa to Maine for her birthday, because she didn't have her own kids to worry about at the time. I found out later Hal was on a camping (or fishing or something) trip with old frat buddies. Whatever. At the time his absence unnerved me, but it came to nothing.
We ate in silence a while, forks ringing on plates in the quiet house. Finally, she said, "So this is it, huh?"
I nodded sternly, "Guess so." I finished up. "I guess I'll have a shower and then figure out how to get you home. Get dressed."
I walked back upstairs. She called after me, "Have fun in there!" I wanted to smack her. It was her stupid little running joke about how we should be taking advantage of these bodies. I found it particularly unnerving given how young she is, (although when I was 14...)
Once we were all ready to go, we piled into Anne-Marie's SUV. I felt pretty overwhelmed there. I hadn't driven in a while, and at the time, it was a little Toyota, not a big thing like this. Still, we plugged Ellie's address into the GPS (and thank God for that!) and I drove cautiously through the curves of this little suburban nowhere place.
Bry and I went up to the door. She gave me a pat on the shoulder to say goodbye, and got into character for the first time, bounding up to Ellie's room heedlessly.
Standing in the doorway, I was ambushed by Mrs. McClay, Hal's sister. "So are you going to tell me what happened?"
I felt like a deer in the headlights, man. Trying to remember the cover story, I stammered, "We, uh, got our luggage, uh, lost. There was a mix-up. The inn let us stay until, um, they found it."
"You couldn't call?" She sneered. "We were worried sick."
I averted my eyes. "My, uh, cell charger was in the, uh, in the luggage." I felt like I was in the principal's office. Mrs. McClay - Trudy - was quite a few years older than Anne-Marie and seemed gravely displeased with what had happened. I can't say I blamed her, either.
She just stared at me for a while until finally she said, "Well, it sounds like you had a very rough few weeks. Still, you should be more responsible than that, Anne."
I couldn't feel the guilt she was trying to make me feel, since it wasn't my fault at all. Attempting to level with her would be utterly fruitless, and in the best case scenario, if she DID believe me, I am then dealing with a mother whose child is missing. So I just swallowed all her ill will, nodded and said, "Yep. Well, I gotta go..." I've never wanted to leave someplace quicker in my life.
She just kept glaring at me. I got the feeling this was not the beginning of tensions between Anne and Trudy. I had no desire to make it worse - or even try to fix it. I just wanted to leave. She didn't stop me, but I had to fight some kind of invisible force field to do so, because of how unfinished that confrontation was. I felt sick.
I walked, shell-shocked, to the car. I got in and followed the GPS back to the Adkisson place. Then, once I was in the garage, I turned the key, unbuckled the seat-belt, and... cried.
I'm tempted - believe me - to blame it on PMS or some other female chicanery, but the fact is it's just what I wanted to do. Not that I was a cryer as a man, but in a situation like this... nobody's watching, nobody sees you as a man, your entire life has gone to hell in very short order... shit man, you've just gotta let the tears come.
I straightened myself back up and went back inside. I had no idea when Hal would be back. It was time to start playing my part.
-Todd
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)