Tori: No. Just no.

I'm really flattered you guys haven't forgotten about me. Every so often I read a comment asking about me and it makes me want to write a big post updating you on my life. But the sad truth is there was not a lot to update you on. Working, dating, living, being me... I felt for a while it was nice to step back and stop using this blog to explain to myself that it was okay to be okay with my life, that nothing about it was new anymore and it was good to get comfy and go along with the ride. I said it was the sad truth, but it's also the awesome truth. I've gotten to a place I've never felt in either of my lives.

Alex-- that is my boyfriend Alex, not Greg's current body -- is exactly what I've needed in my life. He's really stable. After a long settling-in period, we got really comfortable with each other, learned each other's needs and wants and now we're jsut so... I don't wanna say perfect, but like I said, stable. It's just so awesome to have someone to throw my arms around at night.

I realized over the Holidays that I love him. We were having dinner with my family, and I don't know, he was just kidding around with dad and I was just watching him, being so cute and I thought "I love this guy. This is real."

Then I got scared. I haven't said that to anyone in years, and it was not like this. I contemplated saying it to Buddy, but we were way off base on that. There were risks here, too, though. It was laying my feelings bare to a man who means the world to me, and it was admitting to myself how badly I needed him in my life. How much of a woman I wanted to be for him. Before I could say it, I tried to forget I ever wasn't Tori. I thought that would make it easier, but it was impossible. There's still baggage there. There's still this feeling that I'm lying to him just a little bit, even as every day passes and makes me more Tori and more his.

So I dove in and told him. Christmas eve. It was a beautiful night and we were out for a drive and we stopped at a gas station. He got out to fill the tank and I was sitting in there waiting for him, when something just grabbed me and made me leave the car and walk over to him. The look on his face before I said it, so clueless. I just took a breath, watched the steam come out of my mouth and said it. "Hey. I love you."

It was a really gutsy move, since if he didn't feel the same way, it would have wrecked the ride home, maybe even Christmas.

He just smiled and said "I knew that. I love you too."

I felt my legs turn to rubber. I nearly fell on him. Even remembering that moment now takes my breath away. I threw myself into his arms and we kissed. He pulled the pump from the tank and we hurried home.

And for a while it was bliss. Waking up in the morning thinking about how in love I am will do that.

Then in January I got this e-mail.

It was a long e-mail. It was apologetic. It had a lot of details about the last few years and why certain things happened the way they did. It was from Willy Taylor, and the gist of it was "I'm going back to Maine this Summer, and if you'd like, you can have your real body back."

Uh.

My "real" body?

I was gobsmacked. My life is so full of hanging threads, I thought this would never come up again. I just assumed Willy had gone off with my old body and was happy with it. But somehow, now, he's decided he's ready to "give it back?" Like I should be grateful for the chance to be that person again? Like being Cliff would be better just because he as a penis?

I didn't even think of it. I didn't even reply! Every time I tried I just got so outraged my fingers couldn't stop shaking. I don't want to go back, but that doesn't mean the hurt has gone away. That feeling of utterly sinking away from myself after he first told me he wanted another year with my body (which turned into TWO by the way) will always be with me. And even though it allowed me to become the person I am now, it still hurt like hell and he can't make that better. It wasn't even malice. It was just insensitive. I don't know what I'd even say, other than "No thanks."

How dare he re-open that wound? After that e-mail I went back to where I was a year earlier, second-guessing everything, falling out of "character" with this cloud of "Cliff-ness" hanging over over me. Every time I seemed upset about something since then, Alex could sense I needed to be comforted, but he never pushed too hard for information. He's there for me. He's so good for putting up with my nonsense. And so trusting not to ask questions I don't wanna answer.

I don't know what the future holds, but my present is well in hand.

Tori: Father's Days (Part 1)

Sometimes I get sad when I think about the fact that as much as I love my dad, he's only been my dad for a couple of years. It makes me sadder to think of the fact that the love he has for me is the love he means to give to someone else, someone who walked away from her own life. I have a complex opinion of the "real" Tori, because she was gracious enough to let me keep living a life that is rightfully hers when it turned out I wouldn't get mine back. But the way she gave it up, sometimes I wonder if she appreciated what she had.

I put off talking to my family for a while after I got back from Houston. I really didn't want to talk to anybody, but of course I live with Raine, and I work with Alex, but I was quiet about it, and they respected that. They knew things with Buddy were complicated, but I never really could explain why, obviously. There were a lot of issues, even stretching beyond the "I used to be a guy" thing, because of who I was as a guy... partly, he reminded me of the old me, and that was both a good thing and a bad thing. Things I liked about myself, I liked about him. Things I hated about myself, I absolutely couldn't stand about him. But I guess I felt I owed it to myself to try to make it work, because I was just so high on being able to be in a relationship anyway.

But breaking up hurt even though it was mostly my own doing. I didn't want to show it because after all this time, I should know it's better to have loved and lost than never at all. I'd fall asleep clutching my pillow wondering if I'd made a mistake, and feeling guilty and irrational and emotional and embarrassed.

A while later, my dad called to see if I'd help him paint the house. The weather was getting nice and mom had been on his case about the window sills and the garage doors. Even though I didn't quite get why he'd ask me -- I don't think either the old Tori or myself showed signs of competence with that -- I was glad to do it, because I hadn't had an excuse to see them in a while, and wanted to stop avoiding them. Mostly, it just felt like a fun normal afternoon.

So I found an old t-shirt and some shorts and we spent an afternoon painting the place up. He goaded me into going up the ladder he'd rented to do the top floor windows. We ordered a pizza for lunch, and then he came out with it.

"So... I'm gonna guess you and Buddy are off."

I sighed heavily. "What was your first clue?"

"Well, he moved off to Texas, didn't he? Dallas?"

"Houston."

"Right. And weren't you thinking of joining him?"

"I was. I was looking for work down there. In case it worked out."

"And it didn't?"

I gave a moment's thought and answered "No. It did not."

He took a long time responding to that. He took a bite of his pizza and chewed, and then another. Maybe he was waiting for me to elaborate, but I didn't know what else to say.

He stopped chewing and looked at me and said "I didn't like him."

I smiled uncontrollably, but had to twist my face into a sour expression. "That's sweet of you to say, Dad, but I know it's not true." Although he wouldn't have, if he'd known how badly Buddy handled the break-up.

"No, it's not true. He was smart, nice enough, very polite. Your mother and I liked that you were with him."

I winced. "I've dated a lot of assholes." I haven't, but part of being someone else, unfortunately, is having the balls to own up to their mistakes.

He laughed, "Yeah. Sure. Some assholes here and there. But I never protested, did I? I let you find your way. And now look at you. I liked him fine, but I liked that you were dating him. He never got a ticket for street racing, I bet."

Dad brings this up from time to time and I have no idea what the story is behind it.

"He was smart and he had a good job and he didn't seem like he would've been popular in high school. Really different choice for you, if you don't mind me saying so."

"I don't."

"But that doesn't mean I'm upset you broke up. If there was a problem that couldn't be fixed, I'm glad you did what you felt was right. You're a very strong girl, Tori. You're a very different person than I thought you'd turn out to be, and I'm always surprised by what an amazing person you became."

I wanted to cry, I was getting so choked up, I had to throw my paint-covered arms around him. He had no idea how much those words could possibly mean to me, or what he was truly saying. I actually felt guilty because I'm not the girl he raised, but knowing he approves of who I am just means the world to me. You don't get to choose your family, and I'm so glad that when I landed in this body, I got one I love so much.

I was struggling to open a can of paint and I said jokingly (but not without meaning) "I bet at times like these you wish I was a son, right dad?"

He just grinned at me, popped the lid open and said "Hey, I could have called your brother up... what would I need another son for? I've got the best daughters ever."

He paused and added, "And the best son."

I was on such a high about that weekend, but it didn't last. A while later, I got an e-mail from "J.H. Clifford." Willy. My heart sunk and I almost didn't want to hear what he had to say. I clicked the message.

He had just gotten word that my dad -- My real dad, in Buffalo -- had had a heart attack and was in the hospital. Willy's still in England, but maybe I would like to have a look in on my family, in case he doesn't make it. There wasn't anything else in the letter. No "This is what I've done with your life," no question of returning to the inn. Just this fact.

I was looking up bus tickets to Buffalo that night, and before I knew it, I was back home...

Cliff/Tori: Who does this make me?

First off, I checked my e-mail this morning to find a link sent to me by Mae with the comment, "Hey sis, saw this pic, was reminded of you. Have a great day." I have to admit I got a chuckle out of it since Mae and I have had a number of run-ins since she got out of school, where she comes downstairs in the morning to find me sitting half-dressed eating a bowl of cereal. That said, I've never been that "half-dressed," and I may be a decent-looking girl, but I don't look that good.

It also made me wonder what she was doing looking at that site, especially since the e-mail was sent after 3 AM.

It's funny what a year does to you, because while I would've considered Tori a goddess in my old life, now I just think of myself as "decent looking." Maybe it's because of changing tastes or standards. Then again, I've definitely seen the reaction I get from the other sex when I go out in public, whether I've made an effort or not. Most of those guys just like my boobs, which is forgivable... they're pretty nice, even after a year.

The responses to my last few posts have been overwhelming, and I hope you'll forgive me if I don't exactly address every little matter here, because I tried to tackle every post in an earlier draft of this entry, and it got really messy. I just want to say again how amazed I am by the support some of you have shown me, or event the interest. Coming from a someone who hasn't always been the best at putting things into words, this has all been very comforting.

It was pretty amazing to see the explosion of discussion in the last couple posts. I felt timid about joining in because I've only been a girl for about a year, and I felt awkward about being all "super-feminist," because I still don't know what any of it means.

One commenter asked whether I felt like I was being treated differently by society. Of course. The weird thing is, a lot of the quirks that made me less successful as a guy seem to be working for me as a girl. I don't draw a lot of attention to myself. I don't dress provocatively (my "Torification" period notwithstanding) I don't try too hard to impress members of the opposite sex. My ability to go months on end (aka my entire lifetime) without sex seems to be working for me. As a guy, virginity was a source of shame, as a girl, abstinence is lauded. It's a weird double-standard, and it works in my favour. Even though we apparently live in an age where it's okay for a woman to want sex, Sara and Raine think it's cool that I'm just not into it.

Of course -- and this is where things get weird, what I was talking about last time -- I kind of am into it.

It's probably never going to happen with a girl. I don't feel right about it. I came this close with Buddy, but what stopped me was the knowledge that I'd still have those memories when I went back to being Cliff, and the fact that it would've apparently screwed things up for the "real" Tori.

Now? Now I guess I am the "real" Tori. And I might never be Cliff again. It puts a new spin on the whole situation for me. I certainly get along with guys, like Buddy, and my friends' boyfriends. But the Buddy thing was messed up, and I don't feel like I can be close to an unattached guy, because there will always be the idea in the back of my head that he just wants to get with me. If I ever give in, it will take some serious signal that it's the right time.

There was a lot of talk about "finding my place as a woman" in the comments. I don't think I'll ever have a "normal" woman's life. I think my Cliffness will always be part of me. I'll always have the life of a girl who used to be a guy, albeit not the manliest of guys. As I've gotten more and more comfortable as Tori, I've morphed my presentation of her from helpless young beauty to tomboyish sci-fi loving geek girl. You can't tell it from looking at me, of course, which is a problem for those a-holes that sometimes try to chat me up like I'm some bimbo.

It's up to me now to figure out how I want to live the next year of my life. Thinking about the whole Willie situation, I've made my peace with it, but it doesn't mean he wasn't an asshole. "Karen" has never explained what, if any, contact she's had with the original Karen, which leads me to believe she's either beyond reach, or that the old Tori just flat-out stole some poor woman's life.

Someone in the comments suggested that "Pygmalion" may be responsible for Willie's "opportunity," which kept me up at night. To think someone might be manipulating my life that way is... unsettling.

The way I look at it, this is my life. It's permanent. If Willie offers my old body back to me next year, it's mine to take or leave, but I shouldn't count on it. I don't trust him anymore, and there are a million worse things in the world than being a good-looking 23-year-old girl. As one commenter noted, I just need to figure out my next step. What do I want to do with this life? I'm working on it.

At this point, a lot of other blog writers dropped their former names from their ID's, but personally I'm still attached to mine, so... I don't know.

If you have any more questions, please don't hesitate to ask, and I'll try to cover them in my next post!

Cliff/Tori: Hit Reset

I cried myself to sleep last night.

It began a few days ago when I started playing a game of phone-tag with Willy. You remember Willy, right? The British guy who found himself in my body last year after staying at the inn, the guy who has been keeping my life warm for me in Buffalo while I've been here living as Tori Pearce in Philadelphia. After meeting him at Thanksgiving, I put a lot of trust in him, because he showed himself to be a genuinely nice, considerate, good-natured person. He was quick enough on his feet that he adapted to my life, my family and friends, and even managed to stay ahead of the curve with my job... for a while anyway.

I was an IT guy. It's not a fancy or glamorous job, of course, but it was what I've always liked. Willy did his best to study up and learn as he went, and proved a quick study, but in the long term, couldn't outrun the inevitable. The company I was working for was downsizing anyway, and he hadn't proven himself as adept as I would've been. This was a few months ago, and I didn't mention it, because I didn't want to think about it.

I guess I should have. I mean, it's my life, I should care what's going on in it. But having to take care of my existence as Tori has left me with little energy to guide Willy through his problems. "You can figure something out, you're smart," I told him, not meaning to sound bitchy, "This is only temporary anyway."

I guess it all came back to bite me when we finally did end up talking over the weekend. I thought we were just going to confirm our plans to visit the Inn next month, which is why I was putting it off, but the truth is a lot more complicated than that, and a lot more... unfortunate.

"Listen," he says in that fake American accent of his, "I got an opportunity, and in this job market I haven't got a lot of options. There's a job that you can get with your resume, and I can do with my own experience, and after a lot of thought, I'm going to take it."

"Sure," I say, "Whatever you want to do, but, is this really a good time? You're not going to have it for long."

"Well, that's what I need to talk to you about. It's a great job, supervising a team of software developers, excellent pay, it's a once in a lifetime opportunity. But it's in England."

I feel myself clog up with emotion; with confusion and fear. "England? What are you-- why would you even..."

"It's a job I would've wanted to have in my own life, but I had to act now. I was lucky enough that they'd interview me, let alone offer me the job. I want to go do that, and try to get myself -- I mean Willy -- a job there. Just give me a year, Cliff. Please."

I can barely manage to ask, "Are you asking my permission...? Or did you already..."

"Yeah, I already did. I just want to you know you're okay with it." There's a long silence. He goes on, "I mean, I don't want... I don't want to leave you stranded, but you're not in any trouble or anything, right? You're... another year won't hurt, will it?"

All I can say is, "A year?... another year?" He doesn't say anything back, it sounds like he's trying to gauge the exact meaning of my reaction. On my end, I look down at myself, sitting on my bed in my pajama pants, looking down at my cleavage poking through my sleeping top. I should be mad. I should be livid. and part of me is. Part of me feels betrayed and disappointed and everything.

But I suppress it all. I push it all down, maybe because deep down inside I still feel like Willy's a good guy and he has my best interests at heart -- not some asshole stealing my life. Maybe I'm wrong about that, but I can't bring myself to express my anger.

So all I do is meekly mutter, "Yeah, sure. A year. No problem... another year... you promise, right? Only a year?"

"I promise, Cliff, trust me, I want to get out of this life, but one more year this way could really help the both of us. I don't want you to be mad."

"I'm not mad," I lie. I reason it out for myself, out loud for him, "I've spent a lot of time trying to think of this body as something... something I can live with, not a prison or a punishment. It's not so bad..."

"That's good," he said, sounding unsure. "Look, I promise to check in as often as I can, I'll do everything I can, I just... I just wanted to do what's right."

"Yeah," I said, "Okay. I've gotta... I should go now."

"Okay. Good. I'll keep you updated..."

I hang up. With the phone still in my hand I dial down to Louisville to call the real Rob and Tori. I got an upbeat phone message, her voice saying "You've reached Karen and Gary, we're not in right now, please leave a message!" It must've been recorded before they ever changed.

I left a hurried, emotional message saying just to call me back, I have some important stuff to talk about. Then I lay back on the bed staring up at the ceiling, trying not to look at myself or at my surroundings, but not to close my eyes. Just the light fixture.

And I just... blanked. I wasn't feeling anger or despair or anything. Not at that point. I was feeling proud of myself for adapting, believe it or not. I was shocked at not getting my own body back, no question, and as much as there are little things about being Tori that irk me, I've come a long way from the girl who woke up in the Inn, or even the one who had to start wearing thongs and make-up on a dare to herself. For a while, my only fear was for the future. I had a deal with Tori that I still planned to honor. I worried about what might become of me, should I just go back to the Inn blind. As a nauseating pit of uncertainty formed in my stomach, the phone rang. I immediately picked it up.

"Hello?"

"Hi, Cliff?" said the woman on the other end. "It's Karen. Tori. It's me."

"Tori," I sighed, "Listen, something really major has happened and screwed things up." I briefly summarized the situation.

"Wait," she said, "You mean we're stuck here? We can't go back?" There seemed to be some real anger in her voice, which I'd feared, and I tried to correct her--

"No, I mean, you can still have your body back, I just... I don't know what I'm gonna do."

"I can have my body back?"

"Yeah, of course."

Pause. "...What about Rob?"

"Rob? Of course he can have his body back," I say, "his has nothing to do with him."

"But you don't know what you're going to do."

"Exactly. With Willy taking my body to England, and you... coming back, I'm kind of... left out."

Immediately, she piped up, "But what if I didn't?"

"What?"

"What if I don't go back?" she said, "I mean, I don't have to, do I? It still works, right? There's nothing saying I have to go back, or you have to go back."

"No, I... I guess not."

"So there. I mean, as long as I don't have to stay with Rob, I'm fine either way."

I was a bit confused by her energy. "You... you want to stay?"

"Well sure. god, Cliff, one change was enough. You've been in my life for a year, I bet a lot's changed, right, what with your job and friends and everything."

"Well not really," I said, "I mean the job's just a temporary... and I've kept up everything the way you left it... shit, I didn't even unpack your boxes!"

Her response was, "Well... that was dumb! I mean, it was nice and all, but you didn't have to. You shouldn't, like, try to live my life like it's on pause or anything. I don't have a reason to go back. This life is good. I'd like you to keep that one as long as you need."

I started to feel my face get hot. "You don't want to go back? Were you planning on telling me?!"

"Well no, I was gonna go back and just get over it, but since you called, since all this... I think it's all worked out."

And that's when I lost it. "Worked out? Worked out?!! This whole time, I've been living like a ghost just to keep from upsetting your life, and you would rather I just took your life and ran? Jesus, lady! You could've saved us all a lot of time and energy by telling me that to start with!"

"Calm down," she said condescendingly, "I can't talk anymore. I'll explain it to Rob, hopefully he won't be too disappointed that I'm staying. We're not getting along that well right now. Bye Tori." Click.

And that was it. I felt like I could've crushed the phone in my hand with the amount of anger. It wasn't being left behind as Tori that made me mad. It was learning she didn't really want to go back to begin with. I don't even know how many things I would've done differently if I hadn't constantly thought, "How will Tori feel about this when she's back?" And now all my problems are mine to deal with and I just... I felt it all overload me, and I fell on my face crying.

A moment later Tori's... or my Mom appeared in the doorway, asking "Are you okay?"

I needed some comfort, but all I could explain was "It's just your daughter... being stupid."

She wrapped her arms around me. I was literally shaking with rage at this point. She pressed her cheek to mine, "It's okay, honey, everyone can be sometimes. The world's unfair like that. But it'll be fine."

"Yeah," I said, hugging her back. "I know. Thanks... mom."

We hugged a long while, before she left me on my own, and I cried myself to sleep.

And I woke up the next morning to a world that's mine to do whatever I want. I just don't know what that's going to be.

Cliff/Tori: Support

I haven't been on in a few weeks, barely even checked the blog (I mainly do when Alia tells me he posted) because I'd been, as weird as this sounds, enjoying life.

I know, I feel extremely guilty about writing that right now, but at the time, it was the truth. The weather got very gorgeous very quickly and unlike last summer I was not feeling self-conscious about my body. I've long since (well, depending on your count) accepted that for the time being, I look like this, I wear these clothes, I should make myself comfortable. So if I need to shave my legs and underarms so I can show some bare leg and shoulder, so be it. I was feeling good about feeling good. On the home stretch of my return to the Inn, time started to fly.

I don't know. It was just a good time to be Cliff being Tori. As miserable as the work days sometimes are, I got through them, then hung out with "the gang" at Raine and Sara's place, or the bar, or wherever. I didn't even feel bad about taking the night for myself occasionally, just to come home and relax, because I've been more social in the last few months than I've been in years.

Then I logged onto the blog late on April 1 or I guess the 2nd by then, and there was Greg's post. And it just hit my like a ton of bricks. All the carefree attitude I had the last few weeks just disintegrated in the harsh reality of it.

Suddenly all the fun I'd been having didn't seem so fun. The clothes, the hair, the boobs, and everything else that came with it, felt very bitter to me.

Greg, I'm so sorry about what's happening with you. Seriously. I don't even know what I would do if I found myself in your situation (crawl into a hole and die maybe.) Suddenly all the paranoia about not getting my body back has hit me again. The first thing I did after I read that post was e-mail Willy to make sure we were still cool. The fact that he took several days to get back to me (two days but it felt like a week) did not ease my mind.

He assured me that yes, everything was still going to plan, and that if I was really uncertain about it I should come up to Buffalo and check in on him for Easter. As much as that would set things straight for me, I still couldn't go through with it. I still carry a sneaking suspicion that he might want to try picking up where we left off, getting a few bonus miles out of our bodies before we go back. And my own suspicions that I may not be strong enough to resist the urge to try, because I already know how I'd rationalize it (oh, it's my body, he knows who I really am, it's not like he loves Tori or anything.) Best to avoid the problem altogether.

Not to mention, separating myself from the Pearces has become very difficult lately -- it's not like those first few months where I just stayed out of their way. "Mom" and I cook together and we all have movie nights and other weirdly home-sweet-home stuff. We're not the Brady Bunch but this isn't Married with Children either.

But finally, I just wasn't in the mood for anything this weekend. The entire time, the knowledge that one of us isn't making it back to the Inn -- I don't know Greg except through the blog, but I do know we're going through the same thing (except he's lost his fiancee to boot, which makes it way worse than anything that could happen to me) and I do feel a connection there. It's like that thing someone was telling Todd about the mushrooms. We're all part of a big secret family.

It all just weighed on my shoulders the entire weekend. So I just kinda sat, catatonic, while being welcomed to Tori's uncle's place (the same place we spent Christmas) by a parade of relatives whose names and backstories I have a hard time keeping straight. "Oh there's uncle whatsisface who brew his own wine, and Aunt whoosits and her three kids." Even more confusingly, both Dad's and Mom's side came by for the dinner, which was crazy, but I guess I didn't realize that the two halves of the family could be close. Repeatedly, I had to have embarrassing conversations where I attempted to account for the state of Tori's life. No, haven't really decided what career I want, still not dating anyone, blah blah. These things that hopefully will not be my problems in a few months..... yet by constantly having to address them it reminded me of what it would be like if they were. Which means really, they might as well be. And all the while, everyone's sort of disguising their disappointment with my apparent lack of direction, and I don't have any human connection whatsoever.

And then Ken shows up.

God bless Ken. Tori's older brother has been extremely cool the few times I've met him, and from our increasingly amusing conversations on MSN/Facebook. They have a very strong relationship and thankfully that has transplanted over to me. I just like the dude. He's like the brother I never had -- which is ironic in a way because I do have a brother, I just don't get along with him as well as I'd like.

Mae even brought Ed along, although they disappeared early and only returned for dinner... so...... yeah.

Anyway, Ken was there with his fiancee Jana. He proposed on New Year's, and she's been in crazy wedding-planning mode for a few months. They're planning a fall wedding. Most of the family loves her, although I think she's a little boring. Pretty, though, in a classic beauty kind of way. But if you saw me say that out loud, it would seem kind of bitchy, because I've heard myself-as-Tori described in similar ways (more like "pretty but weird.")

Ken made the rounds, and let Jana bond with the other women, and found me to try to bring me out of my gloom. He was a great guy for trying but at that point I was feeling really low. He asked me about it and I was evasive.

"It's just... life stuff. I mean, I'm doing okay for now, but I'm not sure where I go from here." It was totally in-character stuff, covering for my real problems with the believable fakes.

Ken admitted that telemarketing really didn't sound like a good long-term plan, but if it wasn't killing me, it was good enough to keep at until I figure out something better. I told him that wasn't very good advice, and he grinned and shrugged, "What do you want to hear from me? I have the worst job, but I'm happy enough that I don't care." He works in banks or something nonspecific like that.

I was puzzled. "If you hate your job so much, why do you consider yourself happy?"

"I'm getting married soon, Vic." Only Ken and Mae call me Vic. I kinda like it (because if you squint your ears it sounds like Cliff.) "I'm in love with an amazing woman, I don't mean to rub it in or anything, but I couldn't care less about job satisfaction right now."

This did not help. On top of everything else, part of the reason I was supposedly miserable is that I'm single? I didn't want to admit it, but even when I was doing IT, which I liked (despite not being passionate about it, I felt needed and was good at it, so I generally liked it) I knew that yeah, loneliness was a problem. But I had just started being happy being my version of Tori. Why'd he have to rub it in? I just gritted my teeth.

"I don't know," he added, "Maybe it's not a relationship. Maybe it is the job. Maybe it's everything."

"Yeah, it's everything." I sighed, forcing a laugh.

"Maybe it's because you live at--" he stopped himself.

There was a pause before I finished the thought "At home? Yeah. That probably doesn't help."

Look, it's not my place to start rearranging Tori's whole life, especially not now, and as much as I've come to like the Pearces, I can't deny that if I had my choice, I'd be out on my own. But again, it's all the "I'm not myself, this is not my life" stress. I just couldn't express any of that.

So we changed the subject.

"So, I was talking to Jana," he said, "And she kind of liked the idea that you and Mae would be her bridesmaids." That was a bit startling. Thinking back, it was maybe a bit rude to just be stone cold about it, like "Yeah, that'll be fun," showing no enthusiasm. I know I'm not planning on being around for it, but at this time I was practically convinced that I was, and it all just... ugh, it's all too much.

Ken seemed disappointed that this didn't cheer me up (it totally would've been Tori's thing) and that really drove home how much of a mood I was in. Ken and Jana were stayign at our place, and that night, we rented Zombieland... they were cuddled on the couch to one side, I was on the other, and I have to admit, seeing them be so close was really a bummer. Ken wasn't totally wrong, but he couldn't know that he was the one I was really jealous of.

It all just comes back to wanting to be a man holding a girl like that.

So I just thought I'd get that off my chest. Sorry to be so self-obsessed at a time when Greg has some real problems, though. I feel kind of useless because I just have no idea how I'd handle a situation like that. I hope you get it sorted out.

The rest of us just have to keep living the way we are.

Cliff/Tori: Thanksgiving Saga Part 3

I'm going to try to wrap this up quickly, because I should be getting ready for work and this story has dragged out too long anyway.

That night, I didn't really sleep that well, as you can imagine. A combination of identity confusion and potential horniness will do that. I just lay there in the dark for a while, untying the braid in my hair. Finally, when I realized I wasn't going back to sleep, I picked up one of the journals and started reading.

I got to the point where, in the eighth grade, Tori admits to her journal she has a crush on a boy she knows. She had mentioned him quite a bit earlier and it seemed like, whether she admitted it or not, there was some kind of unspoken thing. for pages and pages it goes on about what happens when they spend time together and speculation about whether or not he likes her back. It was so sweet and so innocent and made me long for those days when it was all so simple. I was tired before I got to the end of the story (if there is an end) and managed to fall asleep at 3.

However, I had to get up early the next morning because the four of us (me, Willy, Justin and Randi) were going shopping on Black Friday, at the Walden Galleria, which is of course the biggest mall around here. We decided to split up into guys and girls and meet up for lunch at the food court. Despite my desire to go with the guys, there was a very important matter I wanted to discuss with Randi.

As you can imagine it was ridiculously crowded, meaning every place we went to took way longer to deal with than usual.

She took me around to all the women's clothing places she liked. As I guy I'd be super-bored but at least as Tori I can occupy myself by trying things on if they interest me. After all, no matter what body you're in, you need clothes, and certain clothes are made for certain people. It's quite a bit like my trip with the real Tori, but Randi of course didn't know who she was really with. So I just went along with it and tried to have fun. I ended up buying only a few items for myself, and a few gifts for Mae and "mom." I also bought some trinkets for my real mom as a "thanks" for having me over.

Randi was a lot of fun to be around. I'd known her for a few months before I changed, but only as part of a couple with Justin. Obviously there wasn't much excuse for the two of us to hang out one on one. I'm a little embarrassed to admit but even in my first post here I talked about how I'd kinda had a crush on her. I mean she's beautiful, smart and funny. And she really seems to love Justin. I asked her about their relationship, things I already know ("How long have you been together, how did you meet?") but had never really heard her side of. After a while, I was able to put aside my male feelings for her, and just be her friend. It made it a lot easier to talk to her than I ever did as Cliff.

Apropos of nothing and with quite a bit of embarrassment, I asked "Hey, Randi, listen, I wanna ask you... did you ever have a lesbian experience?" Obviously she was put off by the question, and it was probably way, way too personal for someone I'd "just met" (hell, even if I was myself,) but it was my secret scheme to talk a little bit about my situation. I clarified my fictionalized version, "See, my little sister keeps bringing this girl over, and my mom thinks they might be, I don't know, together. And I never did anything like that, but I'm trying to see if it's maybe normal just to... try." Yeah, now that I write it out, it was awkward, but she handled it like a champ. I should also add that Randi is studying to be a social worker or a counselor or something, so she's maybe a little more comfortable about this sort of thing.

I added, "I know, I know, we're practically strangers, but that's kind of why I wanted to ask you. We're all girls here, aren't we?"

She smiled and said in a hushed voice, "No, yeah, it's okay. It's actually normal to have doubts about yourself. When I was a little younger, in college, I had this friend, Michelle. And neither of us had boyfriends so we spent a lot of saturday nights together in my dorm watching movies and drinking, and... I don't know why I'm telling you this, but it was pretty much a relationship."

"What, really? Did you guys ever, like, kiss and stuff?"

"Exactly. It was like a secret little affair, but we had to be alone to deal with it. And then she got a boyfriend, and I got a boyfriend, and we never talked about it again, even as our relationships came and went. For us, it was only a passing phase, but I think it's definitely healthy to explore that side of yourself."

I thought about what she was saying as it had to do with my life. It made a lot of sense.

Of course, the funny thing is, I've actually met Michelle, and when I get my body back, I probably will again. I'll have to keep an eye out for any strange behavior! Haha.

We were early for lunch so we got seats and texted the guys where to find us. While we were waiting, I was struck by an image from my past -- a girl I knew in high school and was hugely attracted to (even though she was popular and kinda dumb and bitchy, and it was never going to happen, I spent a lot of time... thinking about her.)

I was staring at her, and before long, I realized how far behind me those feelings were. I was drawn to Randi maybe a little bit because I know her and she's a nice person and yeah, she's still beautiful. But this girl, whose name I even had trouble remembering, did nothing for me.

Around that time, I realized, maybe it really isn't about liking "boys or girls," it's about liking people. I still don't know what any of it means but I feel like I made a really big step.

After regrouping and eating, we made a few more stops (I picked up some gadgetry at Best Buy for my dad, the same as I got a little something for my mom.) After we dropped Justin and Randi off, Willy and I finally talked... a little.

"Listen," he said, "I'm sorry about last night, really, I never--"

"It's okay. Really. You didn't do anything wrong."

"It's just, well... when I first saw you, Wednesday night, I didn't expect you to look so good, I guess. I think I may have gone into flirt mode, and that was unfair of me. It's just, you feel like a friend, but you're a beautiful girl if you don't mind me saying, and I've never had such a close bond with someone so quick. I guess I should be looking at you like you're just a fella, right?"

I laughed, "No, you don't have to. I haven't acted like one in a while. I mean, it's not like you hypnotized me or anything." He laughed, and I did a little too, "Look, we get along well, and I got carried away last night. You've been very good about this, Willy. And if it's possible I'd like to come back and see you, and see my friends and family again... but, I've got to work, and save money for my big trip to Maine next summer. I mean, I may be okay with this, but I'm still getting that body back one way or the other, got me?"

He smiled "Yeah, I gotcha."

We had dinner, and he peppered me with a few obvious questions about womanhood, then we watched a movie. Around 11, he drove me to the bus depot, and we hugged goodbye.

The next morning, I was back in Philly.... back in "my own bed."

I hope it makes sense to you, how this all ties into everything. I haven't got really concrete answers, and I probably won't as long as I'm Tori, but my eyes are a little more open now as to what I am to other people, and what other people are to me. So I understand a bit more about who I am now... now to read those diaries some more....

Cliff/Tori: Thanksgiving Saga Part 2

If you haven't read the below entry yet, please do so, as you can tell, this is a continuation.

I woke up Thursday morning somewhat surprised to find myself in my own bed. It was that little moment between dreaming and waking where I forgot I'd come to Buffalo, and for a very hopeful moment thought maybe the last six months (~!) were just a dream. A brush of my hand over my left breast confirmed that.

I do that sometimes. Early in the morning, in the shower, times during the day when I find myself randomly on my own. I feel my breasts, run a finger over my pussy. It's not a sexual thing, most of the time I don't even get noticeably turned on, it's just a reflex. Hell, when I was a guy, sitting at home alone I often used to just cup my balls in the same manner. Just to feel. As much angst as my predicament has given me, I know - or hope - it's not permanent, and then for the rest of my life, it's back to my old ways, so I steal a feel every now and again. It's my right, especially given how rare my interactions with the female body were before I became one.

After I got out of the shower, things weren't going well for this gal. I had intended to dress casually for Thanksgiving at my family's place - a pair of jeans and a t-shirt - but Tori's body decided to rebel. I don't know what it is about a woman's body that enables it to suddenly not fit into a pair of jeans that were just nice and snug days earlier. It wasn't even a matter of putting on weight, I've been hovering within a few pounds of the same weight I was when I got Tori's body, plus or minus 5. I guess my ass just chose today to get fat. If I could barely get them on in the morning, there was no way they'd hold out through a turkey dinner.

Plan B was a dress with one of those high-waist belts that sits right under your boobs. It was more along the lines of what my mom would want to see a girlfriend of mine wear (pretty and feminine but not revealing) but not really the style of clothes I choose to wear for myself; I dress boyishly whenever I can, which is usually. But that's more out of convenience than fear. I crossed the mental threshold against "girling up" a long while back. It also meant I had to put on a pair of nylons, especially given the frigid Buffalo weather (which I've missed only a little bit.)

The other problem was, my hair wasn't doing what I wanted to do. We still had plenty of time, and Cliff asked if I needed help, I told him no, I'd just pull it back into a ponytail or something. He offered "If ye like, I ken pull it back for ye into a braid." (I apologize for my ridiculous rendering of his accent, BTW.)

"What, seriously?"

"Oh for sure, I had three sisters, I know a thing or two."

I thought it over. "Sure, why not." He sat on the couch, I sat on the floor, my head between his legs as he tied my hair together.

"Y'know, I admire yer guts, Cliff, I really do," he chuckled in his thick British accent, "I mean lookit ye. Deep down inside, you're this bloke, but here you are. If it were me, I'd lock meself up and never let a soul see what became of me, but 'ere you are."

"Well," I laughed, "I tried that, it didn't work so well, so I wasn't left with many other options. Believe me, this was not my first choice of lifestyle..."

"Well, you ken at least consider yourself in the lucky few who probably get a chance to see the other side. Best take advantage, I says, while you've got it."

I rolled my eyes and laughed, "Yeah, you try having these things and see well you deal with it."

"Well, if I knew it weren't permanent I wouldn't mind having a go." I could tell he was joking around, but it still hit a nerve and I didn't feel like playing along with the joke. He apologize, "No for real though, you seem to be taking it okay and I'm very impressed." He slipped into his goofy American accent, "Well, I'm about done here. Have a look."

I went to the mirror and was most impressed with how nice my hair looked pulled back, but more neatly than I ever could. He came up behind me, I turned and gave him a "well done" pat on the shoulder. Once again I felt so small looking up at my old face.

He let me drive my own car over to my parents' place, although I haven't driven in months and getting behidn the wheel in this body was an odd prospect... my reaction time felt down and I felt very small behind the wheel.

We got there at around 3. I hesitated at the door. It's a very special kind of horror when you walk up to your parents' house wearing a a bra, a dress, pantyhose, earrings. I knew they'd never know it was me, but part of me just imagined my dad taking one look at me and crying out "My God son, what have you done to yourself?"

Most of the family had already arrived. My dad was in the living room with my uncle Lou, watching football. My aunt and mom were in the kitchen. Willy "introduced me around." I was all locked and loaded with the cover story, but dad and uncle Lou just smiled and turned their attention back to the game. Willy looked a bit baffled by what he called (to me) "The American Football Game," but hey, I was never that into football either.

Being one of the girls, I was called into the kitchen. Well, that's just sexist, frankly. My cousin Bette's husband Gerry manages a restaurant, but he isn't asked to help; when they arrived shortly after we did, it was Bette who came in to do the stuffing, while Gerry joined the football club. What chance did I have?

My mom seemed rather interested by me, though, and made sure I didn't stray too far from the kitchen. "I'm not really much of a cook," I said. She just looked at me and put her hands on her hips, "Well, then what good are you? Get outta here!" And I must've looked awfully uncertain about what to do, since she immediately dragged me back in and said, laughing, "I'm kidding! I'm kidding, nobody here gives a shit if you can cook, just have a seat and tell me about yourself." That confused me more than anything else because I've definitely never heard my mom swear before.

I nervously ran through Tori's general backstory - growing up in Philly, meeting "Cliff" online (then she asked me who I meant, and I had to explain that "Cliff" is the nickname her son uses.) She asked me what I thought of him, and I just wondered, what would a real woman say? What would I want said about me? What would my mom want to hear? It all just congested in my head and I started babbling about how he's such a nice guy and we're "taking it slow" and such. Then I felt stupid for bringing up sex to my mom. I wasn't thinking, I just didn't want her to think I was some slut!

She, too, seemed puzzled at what to make of that remark. She just kept basting the turkey. Then she sat next to me and took my hand in hers. "Well, it's very nice that he brought you over for dinner. And all the way from Philadelphia? It must be serious."

I laughed. "Well, what can I say? We clicked. Plus, any excuse to get away from my family..." heh.

Thankfully she didn't investigate that question further and just went on saying "I'm just happy. I love my son, but he's very shy, and it can be hard to ask him about himself. I'm glad to know a little more about how he is. He hasn't brought a girl here in a long time, I worry." And that certainly did not do much to make me feel better about myself, knowing my mom pities my love life.

One other important note, when I last saw my cousin Bette, she was pregnant. In fact, she was probably giving birth right around the time I was getting settled in Philadelphia with the Pearces. Little baby James was sitting with us in the kitchen. He woke up while Bette was still occupied with food, so she invited me to pick him up. The instant I held that little guy in my arms, I melted. I'll admit, this isn't a girl thing, I have a soft spot for babies and was looking forward to meeting him. But to the women in my family, I must've seemed like some young girl who couldn't wait to start a family of her own.

And then, as I had him held by my breast... he threw up on me. Right on the shirt that was keeping this dress respectable.

Rather than go the rest of the evening with a pukey top, or remove it and become the most cleavaged woman at the table, my mom offered to lend me a top. She had just the one, brought me up to her room and presented it to me. She left to give me privacy - changing into it necessitated removal of the dress.

I sat on the edge of my parents bed, looking at this top in my hands, and like so many things that have happened over the past months, all I could do was laugh. Some boys get caught trying on their mothers clothes when they're young, and it's embarrassing for everybody (I tried it once, I admit, but never was caught.) And here was my mom, lending me her clothes, rather enthusiastically. I'm sure there were times she wished she had a girl, rather than two boys.

I was probably taking too long getting lost in my own thoughts because before I knew, there was a knock at the door. Willy poked his head in, then removed it when he saw I was not ready. I slipped the dress back on and answered.

"Sorry!" he cried out in his phony American accent, "Uh, mom thought it might be a good time to show you around, if you wanted to see my room."

I smirked. "Sure. Let me show you around."

Like many grown men, my childhood room has not been changed much from its original configuration. Bed just big enough for a teen, alt-rock posters of bands I'd now be embarrassed to like, and women who, in real life, are probably not as attractive as they used to be. Numerous comics, particularly from my Manga phase, some action figures, outdated video games I didn't bring with me... I was frankly embarrassed to be standing in that room, especially to be a girl in that room. It was not the type of room I ever envisioned getting laid in, but maybe that's self-defeatism.

Willy was just amused, saying his room as a kid wasn't all that different. Once the embarrassment wore off, I got a bit of a nostalgia kick. It was his first time seeing the place, of course.

"Listen, Cliff, I wanna thank you for coming here with me. I've been scared to meet your folks, I wasn't sure what to say to 'em."

"Oh, you don't have to say anything much. They're not overly interesting people," I joked.

"Well, now that I know them, it'll be easier. Your dad's a decent bloke. He's open to football - ugh, soccer."

"Just let them know I'm okay, okay?"

"Okay."

I hugged the guy. Then we were called for dinner, by my dad rudely asking we "Get our pants on and get down here."

It was a good, uneventful dinner, I mainly kept to myself, politely answering the expected questions when needed. We drank a toast to absent family members. I've talked about my brother Bret a fair bit, but the truth is he wasn't there, because he hasn't been there in years, he's been in Iraq. I don't like to talk about it much because people tend to get political, and personally I just don't like to think about him being in danger. The truth is, at my most self-pitying moments after my transformation, part of what kept me sane was knowing he was out there putting his life on the line, and the worst I had to deal with was a bit of bleeding. Keeps things in perspective.

We left early though, to meet up with Justin and Randi, who ended up not showing, Randi sending Cliff a text saying Justin had gotten too drunk at his mom's, and they were going to sleep it off. So we drove home. And then...

I don't know. I don't know how to say it, despite my promise of honesty yesterday. You might want to know why, or how it started, but I can't really say, because it's just something that happened. At some point during the drive home, instincts kicked in, and I got an idea in my head, and I didn't waste too much time deciding what I was going to do about it. I was feeling happy about what a nice guy he was, how well he seemed to go with my family, and how good he made me/Cliff look, and how understanding he'd been with me/Tori.

On the way into my apartment building, I brushed up against his arm. Stepping onto the elevator, I had my arm around his waist. By the time we got to my floor, we were kissing.

He didn't say a word, didn't object. Maybe he should have, but I didn't want him to, I just wanted to go ahead with it. I was so caught up in all the feelings of being at home and being in the presence of my former body, that every possible objection I could come up with, I was able to do away with. 'It's my body, I've seen and done everything to it, if this is ever going to happen, it should probably be here and now.' We were just really caught up in the moment. It was one of those "kissing while unlocking the door, kissing while taking off jackets and shoes, into the bedroom, flopping onto the bed" types of deals you see in the movies. I think if we had stopped kissing, if either of us had said anything about the situation, it might've ruined the magic, called attention to the fact that we were not who we appeared to be and should probably not have been doing that.

I didn't know how far it was going to go. I don't have a lot of experience stopping situations like this, as I've mentioned my one previous serious girlfriend was not sexually active. So by the time he started undoing the belt on my skirt, some alarms started to go off, but I ignored them. They didn't drown out this overwhelming surge I felt rushing through my body to keep going, keep going. I was down to the top my mother had lent me and my nylons when my hand happened to brush underneath my pillow and snag on a foreign-feeling piece of fabric, which somehow I'd missed sleeping on the night before. I pulled it out from underneath. A bright pink thong, the kind I had most certainly not packed.

Freeze.

I asked him about it. He hastily explained it must've belonged to a girl he'd brought over a few nights earlier. It was like being splashed in the face with cold water.

"You mean you brought some girl back here and... and had sex with her? Just a few days ago?"

"Yeah. I mean, no big deal, it's nothing serious, just a little booty call."

"Just a little booty call? Willy, I don't get booty calls, I've never had a booty call in my life! I'm a... a virgin, remember?" At 27, it gets harder to use that word every year...

"Well yeah, sure, but... just because you are, doesn't mean I have to be. It doesn't change anything for you. I don't understand what you're on about here. It means that, hypothetically, a girl will sleep with you."

I slipped my dress back on and sat shyly on the bed. "I don't know, I just... I guess I thought people shouldn't be like that, like if I'm going to have sex, I should be in a relationship, and you... you can just go out and get it when you want? It's not supposed to be that way, it's never been that easy for me." I looked at him. "We can't do this, Willy. I really don't want to do this right now."

I thought he'd be confused, upset, but he just looked at me with those brown eyes of mine and said "I understand. I should've stopped you. But you should know I don't intend to refrain from bedding women when I can."

I sighed. "I don't expect you to. Hell, maybe if they like you, maybe they'll like me when I get my body back." I winced at how disingenuous that sounded as I said it. "It was just very shocking, to learn how good you are with women..." privately, I worried that he had had that effect on me.

So that brought the evening to an abrupt halt. I learned what it's like to kiss a man -- my neck hurt a little from craning upward, but mostly it's the same as kissing a girl, just a bit more forceful. We didn't do anything, um, too advanced, obviously, but it opened up a whole lot of thoughts about what I am right now that I really didn't expect or want to have to ask/answer.

The last part of this soon I promise.

Cliff/Tori: Thanksgiving Saga Chapter 1

I don't think I have ever lied on this blog. It's a really bad idea, because if something happens that I can only explain by revealing the truth, it's pointless. I might as well not even write here if I am going to lie to you good people. I want to share my story, and I have, including some parts that I find myself embarrassed to discuss.

The upside is, you don't know me. To you, I am just a bunch of words on a screen, not a person. An idea about a man in a woman's body. I assume you believe me, or are willing to pretend you do, even though if you met me in person, you'd probably think "This woman is crazy." So I have nothing to hide. Not to mention, you have all proven remarkably understanding about what's going on in my life, willing to hear my stories about putting on panties and bras and wondering if I am still the man inside I feel I should be. Through interacting with fellow victims and kind anonymous readers I have felt safe and secure, and reassured that things will go okay. I don't know how people have lived through this Trading Post ordeal without a blog like this one. It has helped me grow comfortable in this skin well beyond what I ever dreamed, in such a short time, when I first got changed (if that sentence makes any sense, please don't judge me, Alia!)

So I want to thank you, by assuring you of my absolute honesty here and hoping it all comes out well. In the past, I'll admit, I have omitted details, but never anything I thought would be important later, and usually I'm right. Thanksgiving was a big story, and I intend not to omit anything I think is important... it may end up being multiple posts. But I want to get as much out of it out there as I can.

It was the kind of vacation you need a whole other vacation to recover from. It started with a long, long, long bus trip, (drive from Philly to Buffalo it's 6 hours, take a bus and it's double that) early Wednesday morning. I decided to bring a couple of Tori's old diaries for reading material. Foolishly, I decided to begin at the beginning, and it's a long story. The first entry is dated to her twelfth birthday, January 30th 1999. I never realized how much older I was than her, until I thought about the fact that at the time she was writing on that page, I was a 17-year-old boy in high school. Not long after that I was in college studying computer sciences, a field that you'll probably understand grows as time has gone on... it put me in an odd nostalgia trip.

As you can imagine, there's very little that a 12-year-old might have to say that has to do with my current life, but I felt it was necessary to browse anyhow. It's full of the necessary prepubescent complaints. Her parents control her life too much, school is boring, her little sister is a pain... little Leah Mae was only six years old in 1999. The girl who just last week was asking whether I thought it was the right time to give up her virginity. Ick.

The handwriting was also scratchy, the spelling bad, the grammar awful, not that I'm holding it against her I'm just saying it made it tough to read. I found myself thumbing over pages that I couldn't decipher, and where nothing seemed to jump out at me. Many of the entries were spare, short summaries of what she did that day or what she was mad about, or how she had fun with her friends.

One helpful commenter on my last post noted that the diaries could be considered an extension of the letter I got when I woke up as Tori, which to a degree is true. It definitely helps me understand her better. But at the same time, the letter was written by a 22-year-old girl, to put her life in a context a stranger might understand. The bare essentials. The diaries were clearly never meant for someone other than Tori to read, and they sometimes make puzzling references (names, places, events that are never explained, but later become slightly more clear.) This is all access, but a lot of it is locked out. As the book goes on, she writes longer entries with more references and explanations that relate to what I'd already read, so I assume that as the books go on I will gain more understanding as my frame of reference builds.

I guess if my original intention was to learn specifically about sex, 12 was definitely the wrong place to start, and as you can tell there's more at work here. Learning more about how Tori talks to herself has helped me learn about her as a person. There are times when she seems very analytical, like me, and she was still only 12. Other times, she's just gossipy.

I arrived in Buffalo after dinner. Willy had told me he'd be busy and unable to meet until a bit later than that, so I arranged to meet with him at a favourite bar of mine and Justin's.

The commenter also mentioned a parallel with something the original Ashlyn/Jean-Michel had done, which I'll admit was partly my inspiration. I was eager to see my old friends, my family. Willy and I had cooked up a none-too-original (and slightly unbelievable, if you know me) cover story, where I was a girl "Cliff" had met online, and we hit it off, and I had agreed to meet him in person. The unbelievable part is that I could never envision myself hitting it off with a girl like Tori... girls like Tori don't tend to be interested in guys like J.H. Clifford, and to be honest I had written girls like her off as not being my type, personality-wise (not that I wouldn't have stared impotently if she came into the bar.) But I figured, we have Inn-magic on our side, people will believe whatever we say.

I arrived at the bar and didn't see Willy there, so I took a seat at the bar. About halfway through my first beer, Justin arrived. I pretended not to notice him, because I didn't want to act like I knew him without Willy around so we could keep things straight. But he sat next to me anyway and ordered a draft. I kept my eyes forward and drank up.

"Excuse me," he said. I didn't move. "Miss?" I looked over. He had this odd smile on his face. "You're drinking awfully fast, I just thought I'd point that out."

"Oh, um," I blushed, oddly embarrassed, "I'm just nervous about something. and I like my drink."

"I can see that," he joked, "Why don't you let me get you another one?"

"No, it's okay," I was off-put, "I'm just waiting for someone."

He smiled at me and said "Well if they don't show up, feel free to have a drink with me. I'm Justin."

Reluctantly, I shook his hand "Tori." It suddenly because very obvious that Justin was coming onto me.

Full disclosure: I've had guys look at me with desire quite a bit since I've been female. There are days it makes me feel nice, there are days it makes me feel absolutely shitty, depending on how I feel about my body/my mind that day, and who's doing the looking. By and large I am able to ignore it, and when a guy seems like he is about to proposition me I've got the art of polite rejection down.

But this is my friend. He's supposed to know me. I know all about the Inn magic, but part of me wishes that the fact that we've known each other for over a decade meant he was able to see past my long hair and nice breasts and realize he was talking to his best friend. And hopefully that would stop him. This not to mention the fact that he's dating a really great girl, Randi.

Then just as things were about to get super-awkward for me, in came a shockingly familiar face -- my own. I never thought of myself as a particularly tall guy, but my real body is head and shoulders above the 5'5 Tori (I am on break from heels.) He bounded in with confidence. "There you are! Justin, I see you've met Tori."

He spoke with such zeal, so boldly, so friendly to Justin you'd think they really had been friends all their lives. When I spoke to Willy on the phone he had a rather British accent, but I could tell he was putting on an "American" one that made him sound like the guy from House (who is British) and doesn't sound local to Buffalo at all. But I guess that's one of those things people don't think about.

They looked at each other and laughed, and I was deeply embarrassed to find out that Justin hadn't been hitting on me at all, they'd set the thing up as a joke. Randi came in after that and we got a booth.

Obviously, I was the object of conversational interest. They asked me all sorts of questions, things I expected to answer, my likes/dislikes, my background, stuff I could handle. My mission was to seem like "Cliff's" perfect girl, someone who shared his interests and understood him as a person. Maybe it sounds cheesy, but it was really amazing to play that role (only later did I get sad when I thought about the fact that such a girl may not exist in real life.)

By the end of the night, we had made plans to meet up again the next night after our family thanksgiving dinners, and then brave the Walden Galleria on Black Friday. Justin seemed suitably impressed (despite my just-off-the-buss look) and Randi seemed like she had found a new girl-friend... which is sad, because I will not be in her life for long, will I... as Cliff drove me home in my own car (I had wanted to drive but was definitely not sober, I hadn't seen him take a drink all night) we talked about what a success we had been, what a "smashing" couple we made, as he reverted to his more natural accent.

I made fun of his American accent. "Wot, d'ye not like it?" he asked, "I been practicin' for months, you should'a heard me when a'first got out here. I'da thought the accent changes with the body, but no. People was lookin' at me like I's an alien back in August, and now listen!" He switched to American "My name is Cliff, it's nice to meet you. Let's watch the Bills this Sunday."

I laughed at his antics. He's a very funny guy, very charismatic. he told me he learned accents because he used to act a bit, but never really had to polish up his American. I guess considering that, he's pretty good, seeing as how bad my British accent is. And that's having spent a lifetime watching Monty Python...

We got back to my apartment - Cliff's apartment - and I walked around, taking note of all the things he'd moved, and all the things he'd kept the same. "I'm gonna make a pot of tea, you want some?" Sure. We spent the evening talking, late into the night, just talking, him about England, me answering his questions about who John Henry Clifford really is... it's sad to realize there are things I don't even know about myself.

Around 2 AM, we were on the couch and I was drifting off, but a thought occurred to me, so I told him, "If you want... you can tell them we did it. I mean, that's what they think I'm here for. It'll make you look cool, and I don't mind..."

"Now, that wouldn't be very gentlemanly," he sighed, "I don't intend on tellin' them anything that didn't actually happen. I respect yer virtue too much."

He smiled, I laughed. "Well, that's nothing they haven't heard before... Cliff can't close the deal."

"You're all right, Cliff. You're a sharp guh--" I could tell he was gonna say "girl" but stopped himself and changed it halfway to "guy."

"Well, I'd better get to bed..." I said, "Thanksgiving is a pretty exhausting day even if you're well-rested."

"I have to admit I'm a wee bit excited to see exactly what the fuss is about. We haven't anything like it back home, from what I seen on the telly."

I laughed again, still slightly inebriated, "Haha, the telly. If my dad heard the way you talk... oh, brother."

He ushered me into my room even after I offered to take the couch. "Now now, we won't be having that," he insisted, "I am only a guest in yer body, and I insist on treating you fairly."

I changed into my pajamas and slung my bra over the side of the bed, taking a moment to take in how foreign the image of women's clothes in my room really looked. not only that, but being undressed, letting my breasts see the air, in a room that was once my private sanctum, felt more scandalous than it should have. This used to be my place, but now I really did feel like an outsider.

I noticed the lingering body odor of Cliff on the pillows and sheets. The strangeness of it, nothing I would have noticed when I was me... I fell asleep nestled deep in the mattress trench made by my old body.

More to come

Cliff/Tori: Open book test

I am not Tori. Not yet, anyway.

I look like her, I wear her clothes, her jewelery. I paint her nails sometimes and have worn her make-up. Everyone calls me by her name. When I look in the mirror, it's her I see, but I think there's still a difference between my playing Tori and if I was being Tori. I think that takes time. I've read this blog cover to cover by now, some periods I've re-read too. Art and Jake aren't Art and Jake anymore, they're Penny and Ashlyn. Those are their lives and they have spent enough time living them, and they were handed over the controls to them. I'm still Cliff, and all the things I don't know about the woman I am supposed to be could fill a book. Several books, in fact.......

It all started a few weekends ago, after my little Halloween layabout. I've definitely bonded with Mae in a way Tori wouldn't have, probably because she, being a tomboy, has a bit of dislike for the girly-girlness of Tori. I'm trying to bring "Tori" and Cliff closer together so I can really be comfortable until I get my body back *(knock on wood!) And I guess that person is just someone Mae is more interested in talking to.

So of course there's still a bit of hostility but it's more kidding, more friendly. We've bonded.

And I mean, we've bonded to the point where she is telling me a lot about her life, specifically her relationship with Ed.

I mainly just listen, and when she asks for advice I try to give my honest opinion, but it's clearly not the same opinion as a girl of Tori's age and experience would have. It my be better, because when she complains about not understanding what Ed means when he says he's doing something, I might understand better than a real woman.

But understand how overwhelmed I am by this development. I have had female friends, but they kept me in the dark about their sex lives, and those few relationships I had never had sex lives to speak of. No woman has ever told me what she really thinks about sex or dating or anything. It's a complete mystery to me. Do women like having sex? I never even thought about it, I assumed it was just something they put up with.

I haven't... done... what Greg has done, because part of me does not want to know. I don't want that side of Tori to be opened up in me because in a way, I'd rather never know the answers than find out something I don't want to.

So Mae tells me last weekend that she and Ed have started to get serious enough that she wants to start having sex with him, to lose her virginity to him, in the near future, probably by the end of the year. And I really did not know what to say about that. She was clearly looking for the response of a woman who has had her fair share of sex, who might have regrets or advice or anything, but I was just... blank, obviously. Male or female I have lived my life sexually neutral, not for lack of trying.

Now, if I can barely imagine what sex is like for a man, then I have absolutely no clue what sex is like for a woman. I think she wanted me to either sell her on it, or to dissuade her and tell her it's not worth it. And I couldn't say either. As much as I've grown protective of Mae - she really is like my little sister, and I don't want some punk getting with her and hurting her. But it would be a bit hypocritical of me to warn her off that, because of how much time and energy I spent in my life trying to get laid, and I know not all teenage boys are supercreeps.

So I told her what any stupid book might've, which is, you know, be smart, be safe, um, don't make fun of his penis. She seemed underwhelmed by what I had to say. I was too. She actually got a little mad at me, because she thought I was holding out on her. She wanted to know what it was like for me. The fact that I couldn't answer the question "What was your first time like for you?" really seemed to set her off, set us back on our bonding. It really hurt.

When I realized what had happened, I started digging through Tori's stuff for artifacts of her life, things that would tell me what I needed. I hit the jackpot when I unearthed her diaries.

They were in a giant box in her closet, not terribly discrete but then again she'd just moved back home. Eight books of varying shapes and sizes, one a year dating back to junior high. They're not all full, but they're organized. I flipped open the first one, and immediately regretted it, and not just because it was, well, the very unfocused thoughts of a 12-year-old girl. I felt guilty, and I felt scared.

It's stupid to feel guilty. I know these thoughts were never meant to be read by anyone other than Tori, but at the same time, it's a part of the world I have landed in, and it's the easiest way to answer all the questions I have about the life I am living. This life is, at least for now, as much mine as it was the girl who wrote these. What right does she have to keep secrets from me? If I wanted to, I could go out and sully her good name, ruin her life, her fate is in my hands, and if she can't trust me with her past, what am I doing living in her present?

I respect her right to privacy, but speaking as someone who has access to her naked body whenever I want it, it's a bit much to ask that I not read any of these books. (And it's not like she has verbally requested I not do it. I haven't even spoken to her lately.)

So what's to stop me? Like I said... fear. Fear of what I might uncover. Fear that it might somehow mutate my mind beyond what's already happened. I know it's stupid, but you know, whatever's in those books, once I read them, can't be un-read. I'm worried that putting myself so deeply into Tori will force me away from Cliff. I don't know what I'm getting into here.

I know, it's... stupid. Stupidly complicated. I'm over-analyzing as always.

I think I'm probably going to get around to reading them, one way or the other. The curiosity, frankly, is killing me.

Lastly, I will also be going back to Buffalo this week for Thanksgiving. I have mixed feelings about this, but I've missed my family a lot and I want to make sure Willy is doing okay by my life. I know it'll be weird, my family seeing me in this state, but I just realized that the last three months have been the longest I've gone without speaking to my parents. Funny how they'll never know that. Perhaps I will bring those diaries for reading material on the bus.

Cliff/Tori: Life goes on

Since I'm still new at telemarketing, I only work three evenings a week. Tonight was a night off, so I was doing laundry, killing time between loads by reading random sci-fi books and tuning in on whatever Mae was watching on TV. I was loading all my clean whites into a hamper when Tori's mom called me into the kitchen and asked my opinion on potential colors for the kitchen, which she is going to be painting next weekend. I told her I liked the light/pale yellowish tone. She didn't seem to agree, so I shrugged and went back to my room to sort out my clothes. And as I was folding my underwear, something occurred to me.

This is really my life.

Re-read the last paragraph where I wrote "Tori's mom called me into the kitchen." I originally wrote that as "Mom called me into the kitchen." She' not my mom, she's really nothing like my mom (except that she's a mom.) I barely know the woman, even since I've lived here I haven't done much work getting to know her, I just give her space and she seems able to let me live in her house, and the result of that is that I don't stammer anymore when I refer to her as "mom" and I respond immediately when she called for "Tori."

And those clothes I'm putting away, how did I get them? Of course they're nothing I would've bought for myself, even as a woman I would've thought twice before purchasing half of this stuff, but it's mine now. I wear it, I wash it, I put it someplace I can get it easily when I want it again. There are times when it is absurdly comfortable, there are times when it is not. It no longer seems to weird me out, though, that there are parts of my body that I didn't have before, and there are parts of my body I no longer have. "What bra will I wear today?" This is a question I actually ask myself every morning. Then I put on some panties and get on with my day.

It was one of those overwhelming meta-moments, you know? Just a slight little thought and suddenly my mind is blown. There seem to be times I forget I am a different person from who I was a few months ago. One of the most amazing, unbelievable things in history has happened to me, and I am folding laundry and thinking about going to work tomorrow like there is nothing strange about not having a penis.

It was like being awakened from a trance, and I tried to remember what it was like to have a penis. I could capture the feeling in my mind for a little while, but it was too hard, and depressing. Part of me wonders whether this is the beginning of things starting to get out of hand to where I don't miss being a man anymore. After all, it's been only a few months and I no longer think about it 24/7. Part of me is sad about that, part of me is glad not to be torturing myself. I think I've written about that before.

This made me realize I had not called Willy in a few weeks, had no idea what was going on with my life - my real life, as J.H. Clifford - and was strangely disappointing when things were, apparently, a-okay, work is fine, he gets along with my friends. He was thinking about leaving my work as there was only so much about computer repair he could learn on the fly, and I was a little nervous about that, because what happens when someone starts making decisions in your life? Do you start to feel more like you are them? And then I realized that was exactly what was happening with me and Tori, and my telemarketing job.

So I took a deep breath and tried to convince myself that this is all okay, and sooner or later I will be able to reclaim my life, and I had long since decided that it was not cool to constantly be complaining about things like that that I can't change. So I decided just to engage in a little blog-therapy since you guys haven't heard from me in a while. Sorry that some of the things I've said in my last few posts are a little repetitive but I've got some very big things to grasp a hold of, mentally. It's not all going to come at once.

I feel like, bit by bit, I'm getting less confused about who I am. It's not that I'm not Cliff, it's just that somehow I'm Cliff and Tori, and I have as much responsibility to be both, if that makes any sense. Moments like today, where I wake up from the trance" and realize "omg this is so weird" don't happen very often and then they subside and I get back to actually living, which is a comfort.

It's okay that things are going to be okay.

Sorry, I always had a habit of over-analyzing things in my regular life too.

Cliff/Tori: Some warning would've been nice!!

I have been having a bitch of a day.

It began with blood. Enough to make me realize exactly where it was coming from. Fuck my life. Needless to say it took me by surprise. I've been Tori for a few weeks now, I guess I should have realized, but that was seriously the furthest thing from my imagination. Maybe I was expecting a little more warning beforehand, or maybe I didn't recognize the "signs" but either way - fuck!! I can't even bring myself write the word because it's so humiliating. So I fled to the washroom to find whatever I'm supposed to use, and stashed my laundry in the machine, and while I was freaking out, I got a phone call from one of the places I applied to work, a coffee shop.

I wanted to say "Are you kidding me? I can't leave the house like this!" but I guess that's not really an excuse, is it. They wanted me to interview today, and I'm not really in a place to say no. I had just over an hour to get myself ready and get down there, thanks to my tendency to sleep until 11 since being here.

So I rushed through a quick, gross shower, tried blow-drying my hair for a while before deciding it would dry naturally on the way over there, and tried to focus on dressing myself. When I first got here I separated Tori's clothes into things I would feel comfortable in (t-shirts, tank tops, shorts, and jeans) and stuff I didn't want to touch (tight tops, things that revealed a lot of cleavage or bare skin, skirts, lacy underwear.) I went braless at first, then gave the bra a try and decided I liked it and maybe I wasn't giving too much of my manhood up if I wore one, especially if I was wearing a white top.

My point is, to look presentable I had to go through the second category. Not that I was baring cleavage, it was a white button-up blouse and a knee-length black skirt, because it was humid as hell out there, and pants would've kept me warm.

So I bit the bullet and went into a fully female costume for the first time.

It was... weird, walking around town, a purse slung over my arm, skirt flapping around my legs a little bit... I felt really, I dunno, out there. It was a pretty odd feeling, I don't know if I'll wear the skirts again if I can avoid it. But what was worse when I finally ended up at the place, my hair had frizzed out pretty bad. I guess humidity does that to Tori. I should have brought a hair tie or something. Maybe there's some kind of hair stuff I'm supposed to use? I'm clueless.

So with all this frantic stuff in mind - plus I hadn't eaten all day - my head was elsewhere through the interview, while she's asking me about Tori's experience waiting tables and doing hair, why "I'm" no longer a hairdresser, and I'm just all like "Oh you know, I made some decisions, it wasn't for me, I want to find something new" just really unconvincing. I sounded like someone who had gotten fired and wanted to cover for it (which is true - Tori had a bit of a falling out with her last boss, which puts me in an awkward place listing her as a reference on my resume.) I really don't think I got the job.

So by this point it's after 1 PM and I'm starving so I go to a sandwich place and order myself a nice big Philly Cheesesteak, and about halfway through I'm realizing how badly I overestimate Tori's stomach. I shouldn't be surprised, she's a pretty slight girl, but damnit I was enjoying that sandwich, I would've liked to finish it!

So while I'm sitting there, being mocked by this meaty bastard, I hear a buzzing sound in my purse. Tori's cell phone. I hate answering that phone but in this case it was important. It was my number.

I try to deepen my voice, to no avail. "Hello?"

"Hullo, is this John Clifford then?"

"Uh, yeah," I grunt in my most masculine way. I don't know why... I'd already written about my situation in my letter.

"I'da called you sooner but your phone was outta juice." I'd forgotten my charger before leaving for the trip. "Damn strange situation we find ourselves in, eh mate?"

I agree that it is and he starts telling my about himself. His name's Willy Taylor, originally from Birmingham, England (which explained the crazy accent he had on) but came to America to find work. I asked what he thought about temporarily living my life and he said he'd do his best. "You're in computers, yeah? That was my line at one point. I'm a bit of a renaissance man myself, I think I might be able to manage." That was a relief.

He assured me repeatedly that he intended to help me fix myself so we could go back the way things were. He laughed, saying "From the sounds of things you got hit a wee bit worse than I did." I grumbled at that. It's still not funny, and I don't like being pitied.

The way I see it, it shouldn't matter who you get transformed into... it's only right to want to go back, back to what you know, back to what's safe, right? Back to what's familiar.

Well. I was glad to get that settled, so there was some positivity today. The reality of someone else living my life has started to wash over me. I feel like I'm going to want to talk to him a lot.

So after I got off the phone with him, I wantered around town a little bit and called Alia to see if he wanted to hang out or something, but he was busy. I got home after 4 and the place was a bit of a mess, and Mae was lying on the couch eating yogurt. I looked at the place and groaned, knowing that for whatever reason I was gonna be the one asked to pick up the place. Hearing my groan, not knowing the Cliff-thoughts that were going behind it, Mae called me a bitch (or rather, told me "not to be a bitch") and I just shook my head and went back to my room.

Seriously though. FML.