Jonah/Krystle: What things could be like

Nobody should really get excited about working the evening shift waiting tables at a roadside diner, but I can't help enjoying it.  Six to midnight, three or four days a week, I'm getting out of the house, doing something that gets me a paycheck at the end of the week, and feeling like I'm contributing.  Yeah, I'm practically asleep on my feet at the end of my shift, and there are plenty of customers that do what they can to make it difficult, but most of them are nice, and some of the ones that are jerks at least surprise you by tipping well, though whether they do that to apologize or whether they think they're purchasing my putting up with their act, I'm not sure.

I haven't really made any friends here the way I did at The Changeling, but that's understandable; I've got a big other responsibility at home, so even if there was another Moira here, I'd have a bit of a harder time making time to hang out after work.  It's not like the owner is also a fellow Inn guest like Ashlyn, either, so we don't have that special bond.

There is at least another woman with a baby there, though, and if we're not really buddies, she was cool enough to put me onto a nice yoga studio that has a play area for the little guys when I noticed her mat and said I wished I had time for that, what with there still being a few pregnancy pounds I wouldn't mind getting rid of.  She joked about how I didn't need any help taking all the tips (I should probably tell her that being black in an area this white cancels out a fair amount of what I get from how the t-shirt I was given would be tight even if I wasn't lactating), but told me about the new-mom classes anyway.

I've seen her a couple of times there - there's only a few of those sessions, after all - and we mostly just nod.  Still, one time we got just deep enough into conversation on the way out that we weren't quite paying attention to who else was on the sidewalk, and I actually bumped into my father on the sidewalk, on the way back to his office after lunch.  I was surprised enough to say "oh, hi, Dad" before backtracking to the cover story where he was a second cousin who took me in while I was pregnant, so he was kind of like my father.  I probably didn't need to - this co-worker lives a couple towns over and doesn't go to our church, so it's not like that bit of gossip was likely to get back - but you develop certain habits quickly.

Like, for instance, how my dad looked at me in yoga pants and the t-shirt I'd quickly thrown on over my sport bra rather than go into the women's locker room, and saw me as his daughter dressed immorality right away rather than having the moment where his brain is registering me as someone who'd be fair game if he weren't married (all of us are glad to be past that).  He still raised an eyebrow, though, and asked if this is how I spent the money I made at work.

"We'll, it's kind of an investment - keeping in good shape gets me more in tips than the class costs, especially since this sort of workout doesn't shrink the--"  Seeing his look of disapproval, I didn't finish that sentence.  "Sorry.  I don't know what I'm thinking sometimes.  Anyway, it's not a matter of wanting guys to look at me, but it just feels good to be in shape, like when I was playing sports in school, and I do want to return Krystle's body to her more or less the way she left it, and Little Moira kind of did a number on me."

He looked a bit more skeptical than he probably would have if I'd started with that, but I think he could tell it was the truth.  That didn't make it totally okay, of course.  "Does it have to be this?  Maybe there's something you could do at home, or the path in the woods..."

"It doesn't HAVE to, I guess, but I actually kind of like yoga, at least while I'm like this.  My friend Missy got me into it - SHE really likes looking sexy but she was overweight in her original body, and she still really hates workouts that have to do with running or stairs - anyway, she pointed out that there was a whole section of preggos, and even though I was skeptical, it really worked for me.

"Besides, I tried running some of my old routes, but not only can you not do the one in the woods with a stroller, but I need at least two sport bras on even just running down the street for it not to be completely terrible.  I know you don't like thinking about me having a chest, but there's practical considerations there."

He quickly changed the conversation to the Celtics and Kylie Irving.

Mom mentioned it later at home, although it was to ask whether the place was good. I guess one of her co-workers goes there as well and had been recommending it.  She also pointed out that in the future, I really should bring a pair of pants or even just a skirt to slip into afterward, that just because I was trying to avoid looking at women practically naked didn't mean I should be letting other men do it to me or even Krystle.

That little dig out me in half a mind to tell her that, no, I didn't have a spare tampon when she knocked on the bedroom door the next morning, but I didn't, figuring it must have taken her a lot to ask.

Indeed, last night, I realized while we were watching TV, that this was probably something like what my life would be like if I had actually been born a girl and gotten knocked up.  Without Krystle actually in the house, we can actually feel like a regular family and not one where a curse and a fake me are part of the equation.  It's not easy - I can tell that for all they love Little Moira, my folks are still really disappointed in me, and, trust me, I think that certain things would be so much easier if I were still a guy about twenty times a day - and it never feels normal, but it does kind of like something that could be normal had things been different.

-Jonah/Krystle

Jonah/Krystle: Ready to pop

Missy went to Australia for New Year's before coming back to Boston, and when I said that was a lot of flying, even in first class, she agreed, saying that by the time you're almost home, you aren't sad about vacation being over any more, you just want this flight to be done.  I can relate, and I was never particularly excited about being a woman, let alone pregnant!

The word thing is, there are bits of things I miss.  Don't get me wrong, it was hard as heck to go to work and be on my feet for most of the night, but I was kind of independent, managing things, and that felt good.  Since coming up here, though, my "job" has been having a safe, healthy pregnancy, and as much as it's tough to actively do a whole lot else now that I've blown up to the size of a small car, I'm kind of bored.

I thought that maybe I could help Krystle out with "being me", but the fact that someone else was in my life for a year before Krystle and so many of my friends went to the Inn and don't expect her to act like me means it's not so urgent.  And, in other stuff, I'm behind.  Like, I was never really that great at math, but the guy before Krystle was, so he signed up for some higher-level courses, and it turns out that Krystle has surprised herself with how good she is.  She'd always treated knowing how much had been shoved into her panties within a few dollars by the end of the night, no matter how wasted she was, as just a weird little trick, but it turns out she's good with numbers generally.  It's kind of made studying for the SATs and applying to colleges weird - she does well on math, writing not so much, so while I'm thinking that after graduation, I always wanted to study religion and follow in Grandpa's footsteps, she knows she's going to do better on other parts of the tests and interviews.  I'm writing the application essays, but she's going to be doing the interviews, and neither of us can really talk much about the biggest experiences in our lives.

So, I just kind of sit around being pregnant.  Not so much sitting around - I try to get some chores done and run the occasional errand, but that's become a little harder as I'm waddling and there's snow on the ground.  I kind of also think that my parents don't necessarily want me leaving the house too much.  They haven't told the neighbors that "Jonah" knocked me up, instead coming up with a cover story that I'm some sort of poor cousin from the city whom they have graciously agreed to take in during this difficult time, but people whisper.  They haven't hit on the truth, or as much of the truth as the Inn's magic will let them believe, but there's been a lot of talk about Dad.  It makes me sick to consider, and while he says he doesn't mind taking the hit to his reputation if it lets me have a future, I hate the idea.

Mom really hates it.  I only really see how it affects her at church, where other people will stare at her and me, sometimes nodding to each other (no matter who in the family I sit next to, people seem to think it means something), and I've heard some variation of a conversation with Mom saying Christian charity is more important than how people talk a dozen times.  Only two sermons about the evils of sex out of wedlock and how bad it is for a child to not have both a mother and a father.  I can't say I liked being used as a bad example; it makes me both want to shout about how people don't know the whole story and remember to lean more heavily on forgiveness and helping out if I ever earn my way behind a pulpit.

My friends have mostly been great.  I talk with Moira, Missy, and Benjamin on-line all the time, and Missy in particular likes sending me baby toys - she'll see something and just drop it in the mail, even if she's in Hong Kong or Australia.  My friends from school who also went to the Inn kind of split along gender lines - I freak the guys out, especially the ones that turned into girls themselves, I guess because they know that this could have happened to them, and their white male brains don't want to face it.  The girls are mostly cool, though - they're really polite about asking if they can touch my belly, a lot more so than other people, maybe because they know what is like to have other people acting like they've got a claim on your body.  I also think that most of them wound up in relatively good situations, and hanging out with me gives them more of a connection to something they remember fondly that they're afraid will fade as we go to college and just have regular lives.  And sometimes they're just curious about what the future has in store when they start families.  I don't know how many will follow up in terms of promised babysitting, but we'll see.

And then there's Krystle.

It was really weird between us at first.  She was still mad at me for he not being able to get back to her life for an extra year and how she'll have a lot to explain when she does, but the fact that I am living her life and maybe something else where the baby's concerned gives her some sort of maternal/paternal instinct to protect us.  Even if she would really rather I'd used a condom, she's the one that tells me that sometimes a woman with not much else but a good body will have to use it as a resource, and while people will try and make you feel bad, it's mostly just hypocritical B.S.  Nobody, she says, ever told the bouncers outside the strip club that they shouldn't exploit the fact that they're six and a half feet of solid muscle.

I also seem to be the only person she can relax around. Dad calls it "code-switching" when she starts talking black, for lack of a better description, although technically the actual switching had been talking like the mostly-white people around her ever since first becoming someone else a year and a half ago, and you can see that he and Mom don't really approve of the bad grammar, pronunciation, and seeming to put random words in bold.  I didn't really like it at first either - I mostly grew up around white people and my folks said I'd never get anywhere if I sounded ignorant - but I got used to hearing it living Krystle's life (Momma Kamen may talk like that a bit, but I'd never think of her as dumb), so I don't look down on her when she breaks it out (I hope).  I guess I'm the one she can be herself with, even if it's just swearing a bunch when we play Xbox, since even the other folks who know about the Inn aren't really cool with her being that way.

Plus, I guess she's gotten to the point where she likes being me for a while.  She enjoys being on the basketball team, and though she's hated the part of school that's taking standardized tests, I've seen her looking at community college courses for when we switch back, because knowing you can do something is a big deal, and I guess she never knew she could do more than turn a guy's head before.  She also says high school is a lot more fun when you know just which parts don't matter.  It's also apparently a lot of fun when a girl who also went to the Inn whispers that "Jonah" really knows what a girl likes.

Despite that, like I said, she's making plans for afterward, which is a relief.  As much as I know I'm not going to feel like a whale anymore any day now, I still can't wait to be myself again.

-Jonah/Krystle

Jonah/Krystle: 31 Weeks

This has been sitting in "Drafts" for a couple of months, seeming too personal for most of that time, but if I'm going to post again, I guess I'd better put it up...

How do you know I've turned into a for-real pregnant woman?  I'm measuring it in weeks, rather than the "nine months" that people who haven't discussed milestones with an OB/GYN use.

With a due date in January, I'm pretty big by now, although I've got a ways to go and grow still, and I don't know if I'm living up to Penny's claims that former guys make the craziest pregnant ladies, but there are certainly days when I feel completely insane.  I cried at a movie the other night, and it wasn't some thing about somebody's husband dying of cancer - it was Mad Max Fury Road, a spectacularly bad idea on Moira's part.  I mean, it's a fantastic movie, but as soon as Moira remembered what happened to Splendid, she tried to drag me out, although it was Furiosa realizing she had brought the wives to certain doom that got me.  All that on top of not being the great way to celebrate a woman thwarting a bloated jerk Moira thought it would be, either.

I am so going to miss President Obama.  Mom and Dad always said I wouldn't appreciate what he meant for them, but given what the next four years may hold, I just might, and if nothing else, I don't know how I could have gotten through all this without Obamacare.  Doctors' visits are expensive, and even bosses as understanding as Ashlyn don't give hourly employees that kind of benefit.

It's crazy.  As much as I haven't had to spend too much of my salary on just being pregnant - Karla handed me down some maternity wear, though I've had to buy new bras as these breasts somehow got even bigger - it's insanely stressful, and I just wake up in the middle of the night wondering how I'm going to screw this up.  Not being a mother, but just carrying this baby and giving birth.

I didn't worry about being a mother because Krystle (Krystle-slash-Jonah, if she wrote here) was ahead of the game in searching out adoption agencies, even going so far as to start making assortments for me to meet prospective couples, but that was before yesterday, when I was getting dressed for work when my phone buzzed with a text.  "were on r way 2 c u", it said, then "ur mom looking in ur computer is f-ed up", and "told her all shed believe".

I stared at the phone for a few minutes, and then collapsed on the floor.  As prone to panic as I am over this whole situation, I really never have much thought to what would happen if we didn't get away with it.   I just assumed that I would have this baby, go back to the Inn, and whole Mom and Dad would think I'd been weird for a while, we'd eventually get back to normal, and they would never know how I had let them down.

It's going to sound weird, but my first instinct was to make sure they thought it wasn't their son's fault.  I called Moira to say I wouldn't be in because my baby's father and his parents were making a surprise visit, and then I looked in the closet to see what there was.  Should I dress like a slut, or would it just make them more disappointed in "me" to think that their son had been taken in by someone so transparent?  I shouldn't look reluctant.  I messed around with makeup, trying to look younger so that we could say we were mistaken about each other's ages, tried heels for the first time in months, and chose a top that really emphasized my cleavage.  How could a kid resist those when their owner showed an interest?  Then I puked for the first time in a few weeks, hating the idea of lying to my family.

There was no time to change back, though, and soon the doorbell was ringing.  I went through the charade of asking who was there, Krystle said "Jonah", and when I said if come down, I heard Dad say they would come up.

It's weird to see my family as a family, including Krystle in the part of me.  She's kind of uncomfortable, my mom is furious, and my dad finds his eyes drawn to my chest, and suddenly emphasizing that seems like a really bad idea.  I grab the neckline of my top and try to pull it closed, and he looks away.  Krystle tries her best to stifle a laugh at that.

"Something funny, young man?"

"No, uh, Mom, not really."

Mom looks at me, not happy with what she sees.  "If it was another teenager, I could almost understand it, but you..."  She looks around the apartment, sees the kids' things.  "And it's not even your first!"

Krystle started to look upset, so I said it was, but my sister...  Mom makes a little sound, Dad shakes his head, and I want to defend her, but see Krystle rolling her eyes and I guess that would be out of character.  Mom looks like she's going to say something else, but Dad steps in, saying he just doesn't understand how this happened.  Krystle snorts, saying he should know where babies come from, and I cringe.  Dad gives her a look, but then says he just wants to know how we got to that point.  Was it an on-line thing, who went where, all that.

We don't really have a story beyond the barest facts, so we improvise - "he" took a day trip to Boston during April Vacation, we ducked into a doorway during a downpour, more people did, so bits of us were touching...  I guess we had lunch, something about a date from a friend of Krystle's...  Then she was going off about it being a threesome, and I'm thinking, whoa, is that something Krystle does?  Or maybe it's just a way to get Mom to shout that she doesn't want to hear any more; she's been in my home long enough to know what pushes Mom's buttons. 

It gets her to change the subject, at least, saying that how "that one" ended up pregnant didn't matter, but that she wasn't going to let us give her grandchild up to some stranger.  She takes another look around the room and asks me if I had any plans to get a place of my own, since "Jonah" says I have a job.  Krystle jumps in there, saying "she does, but it is NOT going to have a nursery".  Mom looks at her and says that's hardly your decision, so I try and salvage it, saying I'm not ready.  Dad asks if I think "he" is, and I'm totem Berwyn answering it the way I hope Krystle might, saying a kid still in high school isn't, and the way I think they would want me to if I were my right self, stumbling.  That's when Mom says she wasn't exactly ready to be one of those women raising her grandchild,  that she couldn't imagine me ever putting her in that situation, and that's when I start crying like crazy.

I don't feel like I'm having any sorry of revelation or change of mind or anything, but I let it spoil out that I never wanted to disappoint her, or either of them, but it didn't feel life I had a choice.  Mom says...  Well, I forget how she says that even if she's known Krystle existed, it wouldn't be possible for her to be disappointed in that girl, but it's crushing, and I almost can't help telling them everything. 

It gets real quiet, and Dad seems shaken, not quite believing it, but kind of rolling everything I'd said around in his head.  Mom takes a moment and decides to go with "how dare you suggest I don't know my own son", while Krystle gives me this open-handed "you crazy?" look. I sigh, feeling a little more crushed, because I hadn't done this as a long shot but just because I'd had to, and now I'd made things worse.

Then Dad asked a question, and I answered, and then there was another, and a third, and Mom really didn't know what to say, which gave Dad a chance to tell me to pack some things, because I was coming with them. 

Mom said no way, but Dad told her that this was how it was always ending anyway - they weren't just going to leave this girl waiting tables and riding the subway and trying to fit a seventh person into a two-bedroom apartment,  especially with the baby due in the middle of winter, were they?  And if I was telling the truth, my friends - who, remember, were acting awful weird for about a year - might be able to verify it.

I ran up to hug them both, which was awkward in different ways - Dad didn't seem to entirely believe me, so it wasn't entirely like his son hugging him, and Mom was very reluctant to show any potential for affection to this girl who had messed up her family's life.  I wobbled on the heels, and gratefully whipped them off to throw across the room, explaining that I never wore them but was trying to scare them off.  I practically forgot to close the door before getting into sweatpants and a hoodie.  Neither Krystle or her family had a real suitcase, so I threw some things into a couple of Karla's shopping bags, including the sneakers Missy got me and some stuff out of the laundry.

My folks hadn't changed my mind when I got back out, so I ran to the door before they did, thinking of all the people I'd have to call.  I was pretty sure Ashlyn would forgive my quitting on such short notice, although Moira would be a more difficult conversation, more so than Jordan/Missy and Annette/Benjamin because she didn't know why I would just up and leave with the guy who knocked me up right away.  Nor would Momma Kamen, but I figured she might secretly be a bit relieved to have a little more breathing room, as well as expecting some impulsive, not great-looking decision-making from Krystle. 

Who, seeing how things had switched around, felt free to drop out of character.  "How the f--- you get them to go for that?  I spent like three f---in' months before tryin' to get through!"

I didn't have an answer beyond what everyone says about it sometimes being possible at big changes, which disappointed her.  "Well, s---.  Thanks to Karla, finding out that your daughter's knocked up ain't no big thing to Momma.  B----."

Mom and Dad started to scold her about language, but seeing their "sun" suddenly talk like a lower-class woman who spotted stripping more out of necessity than lack of interest seemed to have just as much effect on them as the pregnant woman making a reasonable case that she was really their son.  It wound up being pretty quiet on the way to the car and on the ride back to New Hampshire. 

And now I'm home, and it's weird.  Krystle and I both went to my bedroom at first, until we decide I should probably take the spare room for appearances.  Dinner was uncomfortable.  This is going to take some getting used to. 

-Jonah/Krystle

Ellie: Unhappy New Year

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.

Ellie: What I know

Now that the school year is winding down, I can finally de-stress and pay a little attention to this blog. It's always in the back of my head, because from a certain angle thinking about the Inn and my life (and Ellie's and Emily's and everybody else) is way more important than whether I got my homework done. But in the moment, it's easy to get caught up in the day to day facts of being this girl at this point in her life (and mine.)

I never went to high school. I graduated finished the eighth grade, took a vacation with my dad, and woke up one morning in a "real world" where I was a grown woman. It was a mixed blessing because every teenager craves freedom, but hates responsibility. And I didn't have the proper amount of time to grow into myself. Sometimes I hear about people "my age" (whatever age that is) who lost their parents or have had to be self-sufficient for any reason, and I want to tell them I know exactly how they feel, but as Ellie, I'm not supposed to. In my life, this high school chunk was the missing piece of my life experience. It may seem like hell to a lot of the people here, but it works, when you're 16 or 17 to ease you into life on your own. Knowing the alternative, which I lived, I would have gladly gone through this from the beginning.

Which is why I kind of gravitated toward Callahan, when I started learning more about him. It started out as a curiosity, when Iris first mentioned it. A sort of reminder that I'm still a girl in a school half-full of boys, who may want to look t me or get to know me. And even though I didn't consider myself available, that didn't mean I couldn't get lonely. I've spent the bulk of my "adult" life with members of the opposite sex, whichever sex that happened to be. As Ellie I've been both "alone at last" and lonely.

I got myself into situations where I could talk to him. Saying "Hi" in the hallway, later asking about his life. It helped to mend fences between me and Emily. I think she always thought I was bitter because she started flirting and dating almost from the get-go, and maybe I had lingering feelings. I don't know what to say about any of that, but suddenly we related a lot better. If there's anything that brings teenage girls together, it's a crush.

This wasn't a crush, but I maybe tried to make it one. I thought if I was going to like any of the guys at school it would probably be him, and the more I got to know him, the more I liked him. But there's a limit on that. There's nothing special about him. He's not overly funny or smart, but he's not a bad guy. I just find him less annoying than the other boys around here.

And I thought for a little while that was good enough. It was a high school relationship, not some deep romance. If I wanted to hang around with a guy, I could text him and see if he wanted to watch a movie or something. He got the message pretty quickly and we're set to go to Prom together this weekend.

Except I can't help but feel wrong about this. This is my first prom ever, I've got this nice dress, and my date is just some guy "I can put up with." I don't know what he's expecting afterward but even though I've done plenty with worse guys, I can't help but feel like going through with "prom night stuff" would be too wrong, but leading him on, more than I already have, would feel even worse. This situation is very new to me.

My best friend, Iris, is going to be there too, without a date. I kind of goaded her into it because I agreed to go and didn't want to "just" be with him and Emily, I wanted someone I really like there. I also wanted her to have fun, because, aside from going to the Inn you're only young once and I don't like seeing her waste it.

What I've learned is that I'm still going to be here next year. My "father" made the decision that since we don't know what happened to the real Ellie, Emily and Mr. McClay, it would be a bad idea to return to the inn especially since we don't have "real" bodies to return to. This is something that still keeps me up nights sometimes. I'm not much of an investigator. I had some leads back in the fall but the trail went cold and... well, I got distracted. It's not easy leading a double life. I'll talk more about it, hopefully, when I get some time this summer.

Tori: Father's Days (part 3)

In case you missed it, tonight I'm double-posting the last couple parts of my "Father's Days" story, so scroll down!

The next day I went to the hospital. I didn't think getting in to see my dad would be easy, but it was surprisingly not a big deal. Now, it's not like they just let strangers in to see patients, but Willy had sent advance word that "a friend of his" would be by to drop off a card he'd written. The thing is, there wasn't a card... but there was a letter.

When I couldn't sleep the night before, I opened up my laptop, and started composing some thoughts. I'd transcribe the letter for you here, but it was obviously very personal, and frankly kinda rambling. But I guess after all this time I still wanted to get some stuff off my shoulders, clear the air with him. Even though I've gotten pretty good at writing about myself through this blog, when I started thinking back on my old life, it came out confused and clumsy. Eventually I ended up writing a short note, from Willy's perspective, about how no matter the differences between us, no matter how far away I am, I'm still a part of this family, and even though we had problems, I'll always love and appreciate everything he and mom did for me.

And that part's true, and it was very difficult to get out. I printed it at a copy shop and left space at the bottom to add the personal touch... my signature, "JHCliff--" so he'd know it was from me. I haven't signed anything that way in years, of course, but surprisingly my hand made the signature exactly how I remember it looking.

When I got to the room, I found my dad resting. I said I wouldn't be more than a minute, I guess figuring I'd read the letter out and be, even though he was asleep it was going to be a token gesture on my part. But when I got in there, I was just, so overwhelmed by the sight of my dad, the unstoppable tough guy in a hospital bed. It stopped me cold.

I set the letter on the side table and took a seat next to him.

"Guess you can't hear me, huh dad?" No response. "Maybe I shouldn't talk. It's not like you're in a coma or something. You need rest." Again, he didn't flinch. I crossed my legs and straightened out my skirt... I had dressed formally.

"I never thought I'd see you like this. I never thought I'd see you again at all, and I'm sure you never thought you'd see your son looking like this. I sure as hell hope you can't hear me, dad, because I haven't admitted who I am... who I was... to anybody in a long, long time. Christ, Dad, if you could get a good look at your boy now, you'd have another damned heart attack."

I put my hand on his and watched him breathe a moment.

"It was exhausting being John Henry Clifford. Trying to be the good son, but having no clue how to live up to your expectations. You never really made me feel like it was okay that I wasn't the same as Bret. That I was shy. That I wasn't athletic. And when he went off to war and I didn't... it was like there was something wrong with me for not joining up. God, it's no wonder Willy knocked him out. But none of that's your fault. I don't blame you. You just wanted what was best for me, and in the end... I think I've got it."

"I was put in a bad situation, dad. Something happened to me that was beyond my control, that I never asked for. I know it seems like I should be embarrassed, but I like to think you'd be proud of me, for handling it so well. Making the best of a bad situation. Maybe you'd be shocked to hear that somewhere along the way I went from putting up with this life, to preferring it. I like myself better this way, dad. I won't apologize for that. But I guess we'll never know how you'd feel, because even if I could tell you where I've been this year, you'd never believe me."

I dabbed my eyes, which were slowly tearing up. "Sorry I'm getting so emotional here, dad. PMS is rough and I've had a weird week."

I couldn't think of anything else to say, so I left the note by his table, and walked out of the room.

In the hallway, I ran into my mother. It's weird being looked at by your own mom like you're a stranger, but I nearly called out "Mom!" but managed at the last moment to change it into "Mu-issus Clifford!" She leveled her eyes at me trying to figure out how she was supposed to know me.

"I'm Tori. I'm a friend of your son's. I actually came to Thanksgiving once."

"Oh! Of course, dear. You were dropping something off for Johnny."

"Yes, yes... dropping something off for Johnny. Look, I'm sorry about what's happened here. Can I buy you a cup of coffee?"

"Oh, that's not necessary."

"Please, you've been through a lot this week. I won't let you say no."

My mom's a woman that understands a thing or two about hospitality. We went down to the cafeteria and I bought her a tea and we chatted only as long as the walk back up to my dad's room.

"Is he going to be okay?" I asked eagerly.

"He'll live, they say, but if the bastard doesn't change his diet he won't have much time. I guess that's where I come in. I love him, you know, but he can be stubborn."

"Hah! Tell me about it!" I said, as if I was supposed to know the man.

"He'll put up a fight, but if he wants to live, he'll change. It's just a matter of making him want to change."

"I'm sure he'll find his way," I told her.

She nodded along, then asked, "So how exactly do you know my son?"

"That... is a really long, complicated story." Fortunately by this point, we had reached the room, so I excused myself.

Alex and I got some lunch and set out for the road home. Once we were in the car, I decided the time was right to clear some stuff up with him.

"Can I ask you something?" I asked timidly while I was driving. "What's your deal, man?"

He glanced at me. "My deal?"

"Listen, I don't wanna pry... I mean, I am, but only because I really just don't know. You know my friend Danny, right?"

"Sure... the gay guy."

"Yes. He mentioned, after I introduced you, he'd met you before."

"Really..."

"And he implied there was some kind of history between the two of you. But he's never been specific as to what."

Alex rolled his eyes some and finally relented. "It's not what you're thinking."

"I don't know what I'm thinking," I said.

"Well whatever happened, it wasn't anything serious. It was a very G-rated... thing."

"But what was it?"

"It was two guys meeting. One gay, one... not sure."

That gave me pause. I don't think I've ever met a man who would admit to something like that.

I stayed quiet. He continued. "It was at a time when I had reason to doubt... who I was. Who I am. What I want. I'm only telling you this because I feel like you'd understand."

"Why would I understand?"

"I don't know, I just... get this sense about you. Your story about how you couldn't be a baseball player. Going from dating popular guys in high school to dating someone like Buddy... that's not the same, but I think you get a sense of how someone changes over time."

"Uh yeah, definitely," I said, as if he should know my real past.

"So I'm telling you this in confidence." He went into a bit more detail about a period of his life, a couple years earlier, when he had just arrived in Philly and needed some company, and wound up, of all things, hanging with a mostly-gay crowd. I won't share the details, and I guess as far as Danny's recounting of the situation, there was a misunderstanding because of how unseemly he made it out to be. And for all I know, Alex is still covering for something.

But this left me with one question. Why didn't he like Raine when I set them up?

He said with a knowing smirk, "She wasn't into me and I wasn't into her. Two people don't have to want to fuck just because they're opposite sex and single, you know." He said it kiddingly, but it's something I've had weird time realizing since I realized I like guys... I haven't been "just friends" with one (straight and unattached anyway) since when Buddy and I were "just friends" he was pretty upfront about wanting to date me. Alex's words here seemed to indicate that's how he sees me, though.

Since "activating" this part of my life, I've jumped from Leo to Buddy, and maybe if I were someone else it would be healthy to be on my own for a while. But I've had plenty of time in my life to be alone.

It would probably be healthy just to have a male friend and not feel obligated to want to be with him, but at the same time, it hurts. There's nothing "keeping us apart" like attachments or orientations or distance... just a lack of interest on his part. Feels pretty familiar. Like rejection.

We got back to Philly and while I felt like I had managed to get some closure with my old life, my new one is still a wide open mess.

Thanks for listening. While I was typing up this long-ass story, I set up a Twitter account for some of us at the inn (we'll see if anyone else is interested in sharing) just for little thoughts between posts, updates... if any of you are on there, if you wanna follow us, it might be nice to interact that way because we don't always get around to replying to blog messages. For those of you still reading, it means a lot to us! (As specially since, as Greg seems to be finding, this story never seems to end!!)

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...

Tori C: Bedpost Notches

There were a few occasions when I did sleep with Leo -- I mean spend the whole night. They were rare and I always felt like he didn't want me there, like he didn't want someone in his bed with him, which is why I didn't do it often. He never seemed comfortable, like he was just one twitch away from waking up, and he tossed and turned a lot, keeping me up. As a result, those few times we did sleep together didn't feel very... romantic.

The first time I slept with Buddy, it was different. He slept naturally, like we belonged in the bed together. I think when we woke up, we sensed the difference.

We went out to breakfast and he seemed utterly elated by the step forward we'd taken. "Can you believe how much time we wasted?" he said, "All this time we could have... we could have been together! Instead we just wasted more time being lonely and miserable. we should've just gotten over ourselves sooner." I still haven't told him about Leo. I don't sense that he needs to know. He might react badly, whereas if I don't tell him, it's just, well, another pointless thing I don't tell him about myself.

Cutting it off with Leo was one of the loose ends I needed to tie up last month after Buddy and I became more or less official. I had been putting him off for weeks hoping he's get the message, but every few days, I'd get a text, "Hey, you busy?"

Finally, the Thursday after Buddy and I hooked up in New York, he texted me again and I responded, "I think we're done."

The answer back? A few minutes later, a simple "Yeah, guess so. K."

That "K" really bothered me. What was it doing there? Shouldn't he be upset about this? Aren't I hot? Aren't I a decent enough partner? If he was just looking for something casual, was I not as casual as it gets? Maybe too casual since I barely was speaking to him by the end! Ugh, that's what's so frustrating. What a waste of time. Maybe I was telling myself I had to keep going with it because it would hurt both of us to break it off, but apparently not. I'm not hurt at all, but... I was annoyed as hell about it.

But of course I had something to take my mind off it, my next weekend excursion to NYC. Funds are tight, but I'm living a cheap lifestyle so I can afford frequent trips. There was just one thing I hadn't counted on... my parents.

As a 24-year-old girl, they're pretty understanding of my boundaries, and haven't really said anything about my frequent late night trips out to see Leo or to go drinking with Sara and Raine. They're more concerned with Mae, and only police my behavior so far as they want to make sure I don't give Mae the idea it's okay to stay out late, do drugs and have a ton of random sex.

So when they found out I was heading out to New York on the weekends to see my new boyfriend -- and boy does it still sound weird to write that -- their first request was that they meet him.

That wasn't so easily done. His current employer keeps him no retainer so he can't go jaunting out of the city on a whim. He had time off for Thanksgiving, but since we go see family, it'd be such a busy day that it wouldn't be easy to arrange some kind of dinner with the family that involved him. Dad suggested we invite him over for Thanksgiving Dinner at his brother's place, but it was just too damn much pressure for a relationship that's not a month old yet. Besides, I was sure he had plans of his own.

Nope, as it turned out... he has his sister in Philly, which is how he ended up there, but most of his family lives out west anyway, but he agreed to go along with my explanation. In the end we compromised and he agreed to come over to meet the family after dinner.

So after I got to New York, and right as I'm getting into Buddy's hotel room, I feel my purse buzz. I didn't want to answer it, but he insisted I did. I had a sinking feeling in my gut that it was Leo asking me to take him back.

It wasn't. It was Ken, saying "YO VIC! Heard you're in NYC. Why no call?"

Agh! My big brother, the only family member it feels like I can relate to. I hadn't even thought about the fact that he lives in the city with his wife. That wasn't exactly why I'd come all this way. so I discreetly responded, "Getting laid." That's the kind of relationship I have with him.

A moment later, the purse buzzed again. "K, when you're done, let's all go for coffee. Not taking no for an answer."

Buddy laughed, "Your brother's a special guy."

I blushed, "It's... not easy getting away from him. And I do owe him, since I tend to disappear from his life. Would you mind?"

"Nah, it'll be a nice preview for when I finally do meet your family."

So we ended up getting food and drinks with Jana and Ken. Jana was quiet as a mouse, looking like she'd been forcibly removed from her apartment, while Ken interrogated Buddy about how we'd met and how long we'd been together. Buddy looked a bit uncomfortable, but he and Ken eventually found some common ground.

We said goodbye around 11 and headed back to the hotel. After an hour or so of messing around, we were lying there relaxing and he noted, "Your brother calls you Vic."

"Uh, yeah. It's short for Victoria."

"Is that what you like to be called? I've been calling you Tori this whole time..."

"Dude," I assured him, "Don't worry about it. To my family, I'm Vic, but to friends I'm Tori." I don't know why this is, but I didn't say so. "It's just a name."

"Heh, I guess you're right. As long as your name's not really John or something, I think we're good."

Heh, yeah... about that...

Thanksgiving was the usual awkwardness of affair. While Jana joined my mom and aunts in the domestic circle, I stayed with "the kids." There are a couple younguns who like video games, and one who's hit puberty since last year and didn't want anything to do with us. Mae observed, "I remember when that was me."

"That's still you."

"Yeah, but now I at least pretend instead of hiding."

Bored, I picked up a Wii controller to join the game of New Super Mario Bros. Before I knew it, Ken had joined in as one of the Toads. I made some stupid out-of-character comment about how this brought me back to my childhood, and he replied by asking "Since when did you ever play Nintendo?"

I almost had to smash the controller into the TV. It seems stupid, but months of comfort have done a lot to make me forget I ever WASN'T Tori, so when I'm reminded of the difference between Cliff and Tori, it can be very, very frustrating. Add to this the fact that I still haven't gotten the hang of my extended family and the awkwardness expands tenfold.

After dinner, Ken asked me what was up. Suddenly I was playing video games and dating, in his words, "Kind of a geek." I asked what was wrong with any of that, and he said nothing, it was just unusual.

"I'm making changes, Ken," I said, pretending for once that any of this was my choice. "I'm trying to be different from what I was."

"Well don't change too much," he said with a hopeful smile, trying to indicate he didn't mean to accuse me of anything. "We like you plenty for who you are."

I smiled back, "It's too late, Ken. I'm already different. But it's okay. You like me no matter what, don't you?"

"Of course. And as long as you like this new guy... I'm glad you're with him."

Buddy did stop by later that night, but as predicted, the parents were tired and went off to bed after about a half hour of chitchat. That left the two of us alone, for all intents and purposes. Buddy was curious to see my room, and I was... reluctant to let him. But I couldn't say no.

So I brought him up to my supremely-unsexy room. After all this time it's still largely-unpacked boxes, a few personal items, and some piles of clothes here and there.

"This," he chuckled, "Is not a girl's room." There he goes again.

"Then what are all these bras doing around?"

"You're a ladies' man. You collect them," he said.

"Oh yeah," I smiled, playing along, trying to turn it into sexy-talk, "You're just another notch in my bedpost aren't you?" I pulled him close and stuck my hand down his pants. Rock hard. For all his "guy"-talk, he knows I'm all woman. We started to mess around.

He pushed me back on my bed and I undressed as we made out. We did it on my very cushy but very small bed, and spent the night cuddled closer than before. The heat's not great in my room, so I had to re-dress before bed.

It was considerably more awkward than doing it in his hotel room. Especially since he had to get out the next morning without dad seeing him. He didn't succeed but let the guy go without commentary.

Me, however... I got a box of condoms thrown at me. Thanks, pop, for being so supportive.

Cliff/Tori: If they only knew...

I've been spending the last couple of weeks getting over the shock of knowing I'll be this way for a while longer, while the word "forever" echoes in my head.

Nothing's changed. Being a girl isn't any worse or better for me than it was before. I don't feel depressed, I don't feel relieved, I'm just... going on. Is this good? I don't know. But it is what it is.

But I got a good boost of reassurance on Sunday, which was Father's day. I don't spend a ton of time with the family... keeping myself a bit independent while under their roof has helped keep me sane. I get up after my parents have gone to work, I get home when they're going off to bed, mostly because I hang out after work with the girls/guys. On the weekends I usually do my own thing, with the occasional exception.

Father's Day was a big deal to me, though, because even if they don't know who I really am, I wanted to prove how important they've become to me, both parents. So I made special arrangements to show off my cooking skills, which was the one thing my real dad and I really had in common. So I did a whole steak dinner for the family, and put Mae in charge of the side dishes (which didn't go so well in the end, but good for her for trying.)

It felt good, just to hang out in our backyard, the four of us, later joined by Ken and his fiancee, who was quick to point out how surprising it was that I was suddenly such an avid chef. We sat around after dinner and everyone told stories, although I was still silent... most of what I know about Tori's life is from her diaries, so there's not a lot of material that's worth sharing. Still, it was great to hear these sweet candid moments of family togetherness.

It wasn't until the next morning that I really started thinking about my own dad. I got up that morning and couldn't get the guy out of my head, and suddenly I was filled with this deep, intense shame. What would he think, if he knew the truth about his youngest son? That instead of getting his life together and moving to England for his career, he was living as a girl in Philadelphia? That at that moment on Monday morning, he was slipping on a pair of panties and clasping a bra... brushing his long dark hair, putting on a pair of tight shorts and a top that revealed his cleavage, his middrift... that his son was now somebody's daughter, and didn't mind it so much?

I don't think he'd understand that I didn't want this, but that I don't hate it either. Maybe he'd think less of me for giving in, for enjoying it at all, but I don't care anymore. I'm through with that attitude. It's something I could never explain to him, but finally, I like where I am.

Kat - Hiding from dad

I'm sorry it's been nearly a month since my last post. I guess I could say that chores took that long, and in a way they really have, with the holidays and a run of holiday-time birthdays. But that's not the whole story. What has really kept me from posting so long, was dad.

I knew dad was suspicious of something when Pete visited, so I tried to steer clear of anything that would raise his interest... especially being online. I'll admit, it's a very hard habit for me to break - I'm an internet addict... but the original Kat was not. Staying away from a computer for so long has been very tough for me. I'm always feeling that urge to sit at the keyboard just gnawing away at me. Add dealing with my monthly visitor on top of that, and I'm sure I was a real monster for a few days too.


I don't know if it's looking at things from this life, or if it was the passing of my grandma just before Thanksgiving, but this holiday season just didn't seem to carry the same enthusiasm as I remember. There were no stockings hanging, there were no gifts under the tree at home. Sure we had the lights and wreaths hanging, and the tree was up - but it just seemed like some exercise... no spirit, no joy... it was just us going through the motions. Christmas seemed such a distant thing, as if it was simply another day. Even the wonder of my nephew and niece as they opened their gifts, and the wonderful dinner that my sister prepared, couldn't offset my feeling out-of-place. I was almost glad to return home Christmas night, I slipped quietly up to my room and cried myself to sleep.


The day after Christmas is my birthday... Trip is now 37. Funnily-enough, my new birthday was the same day... just 15 years newer. Fortunately, I remembered that Trip's license was expiring, or I probably wouldn't have checked mine, which also expired on the same date. My picture looks awful even though I did my best to look decent. Trip assures me that the DMV cameras don't flatter anyone, and that I looked fine. Still, I hope noone ever sees that picture.


I was giddy with joy when Trip and Jadyn brought my birthday gift. It was an old K-5 Blazer... the full-sized ones. The engine didn't run, but it otherwise was in pretty good shape. God, how I've missed mudding! This project truck was their gift to me, as Trip told dad, "to replace Kat's wrecked car with something tougher, that she can learn to fix herself." Dad seemed to accept that explanation and he and Trip gave it a good looking over while I just watched and pretended to be a bit naive about things.

That evening, Jaci called and although it seemed that we were trying to actually have a casual conversation, I think we both caved to the inevitability of just not being as close of friends as the original Kat & Jaci were. I was touched, though, when she remembered that it was my birthday... and then again, when she invited me to her little Christmas / New Year's shindig that Friday. But she had to top that off with a real bomb-shell - She's pregnant... with twins. Well, our struggle for words disappeared at that point. I eventually told her that she should put all this in the blog, and she alluded to dropping cable and internet to start saving money for when the babies arrive. I asked her if I could share the news with her adoring fans, she laughed and told me to knock myself out. So there ya' go, don't say I never did anything for you.

Anyhow, the party was a bust. It was certainly a great gathering, and I got to meet some new people, who thankfully didn't know the original Trip or Kat. A few of the guests couldn't stay long - Someone had to babysit for a relative who had to rush off in a hurry; one guy had some drama with one of the girls; and then one of the ladies who brought her kids along, had to take one of them to the hospital with a fever of 103°. There just didn't seem to be a whole lot of "party" in the party, and I guess that's really okay with me anyhow. Lately I haven't really been in a partying mood. I did enjoy the party though, I didn't feel too awkward as these people didn't know me prior, and it was good to be out socially without feeling odd.


Well, right now dad is sleeping, he has an early flight to see his brother in California. Why he didn't go out when mom was out there, I'll probably never understand. Anyhow, I figure he's out cold for a few hours - and I'm hurting real-bad for an internet fix. I just don't want to push my luck.