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

Just Annette

Maybe I'm not just Annette yet; how can I be, just a week away from having been a man and not really having re-immersed myself in how my life has unfolded without me for the past three years.  Heck, it will probably take me as long to figure out what I want to keep and what I want to discard from Sandra as it will to use the ladies' room without thinking.

I was at the Inn a couple of days before the Chang guys-turned-girls showed up, and for all I was feeling guilty about getting something out of their being blackmailed, I was really glad to see them.  I've talked about how being on my own, Inn-people-wise, had me feeling lonely the past few weeks, and Tyler and his group were looking to be all business.  I guess I understand; they're either older or have kids to deal with, and I'm not going to second-guess folks trying to corral little kids (or people who find themselves mentally in-between).  Plus, I figure I've got a different perspective on OOB than pretty much everyone else:  Where everyone else basically seems to be thinking "let's not get within fifty miles of this place unless I plan to change, just to be sure", Benny grew up here, so I've had to get used to it as a place I'd have to make excuses not to visit, and I've hung out with "friends and family" enough that I know the town as more than where the Inn is.  I didn't see the sense of being shut in until 1am or so.

Not that Max wanted to go near the threshold, though Missy has spent a bunch of time figuring out the rules of the place and building models on her computer, and she's totally not going to act like she doesn't trust them.  But, she's also a good enough brother that she doesn't drag Max up there when there's no point.

(Yeah, I said "she's Max's brother"; it's weird, but she thinks of herself as a woman but also Max's brother, even though he's physically female right now, and you respect that even if it doesn't sound right.)

Cary and Elaine didn't hang out much; we got hot dogs one day but since they're just inches away from Cary being "Mackenzie's" temporary foster dad, they really don't want to do anything hard to explain, like drinking with three really mismatched folks until midnight.

Missy and Max make an odd pair like that right now.  Missy knows the odds of being hot in the same way that she now really enjoys come fall are slim, so she's pushing her boobs up and wearing booty shorts, and would probably be wearing heels if that didn't suck on the beach.  Max is weird, because he looks like Cary did in Chicago, but where Cary would use the times when he was hanging with me to dress down, Elaine had still trained him to be comfortable in women's clothes, so he'd do things like wear leggings as pants or put on a camisole on a warm day, while Max is taking the same body and wearing t-shirts that actually emphasize his breasts more because he's tucking them into pants that are kind of trying to be unisex but kind of can't with Elaine's curves.

He can drink a bit, at least.  I laughed a bit at Missy accepting drinks people sent over for both of them, and getting up to dance a couple of times, though she resisted going home with anybody.  Indeed, after a couple of hours, she was kind of morose about having to break up with Jackie, and then she passed out in the booth.

Then something hit me as I looked at the glasses piled in the center of our table.  "Holy shit, I'm going to be that age, sex, and weight - I mean, last picture I saw of Sandra she looked like she was about the same size as Missy, but I haven't seen them side-by-side because my friend does me the service of hating that bitch - does that mean I'm going to be a complete lightweight as well?"

Max looked at his drink, suddenly wondering if maybe he was having too much.  "Uh, maybe?  But you'll get used to it, right?"

"Oh, sure, but I like beer, damn it!  But, I suppose that I'm going to have to deal with Sandra making everyone think I'm some sort of early-onset-middle-age wine-drinker anyway.  Ugh!"  This doesn't make much sense, I realize, but I had been drinking and being Benjamin didn't make me completely impervious to alcohol.

By now, everyone at the bar had a few drinks in them, and it was making Max uncomfortable, so we decided to get Missy back to their hotel.  Max did think it was pretty funny that I carried her all the way, insisting on getting pictures.  He laughed while doing it and I asked him to let me get one of my own, because he smiled differently than Cary - less teeth, more dimples.  "It's cute.  Don't be afraid of it."

"You being a bro telling a girl to smile?"

"No, and fuck you!  I'm just saying, you go back in the blog and read up on me and Jordan-slash-Deirdre-slash-Missy, you'll see I enjoyed our first year more because I let myself.  Doesn't mean I'm not really excited to be myself again, but it can be a good experience."  I paused, remembering a few of the last few years' more exciting moments.  "A really good experience, when you have an idea of what you're getting into and don't have worry about tomorrow."

I left him with something to think about and then returned to the Inn.  No change that night, but when we met up the next day, Max was wearing a tank-top and Missy wanted to know what I'd said to him.

I fell asleep reading the night the actual change took place, and while there were obvious, tell-tale signs that the years as a guy had passed, it was hard not to have the feeling that it had all been a dream when I looked in the mirror - what I was seeing was disconnected from my most recent experiences, but so intensely familiar as to override that.  Not entirely, though; there was a lot that demand exploration.  Sandra had left me with the shortest haircut I've had a a girl since third grade, but I liked it; it looked cute and mature at the same time.  I don't know whether eagerly unbottoning my pajama top was a leftover guy thing or just being excited to see my new-old shape, but I had to laugh when the first thing I noticed about my breasts was the tan lines.  I guess Sandra was more into walking around the beach in a bikini or going to pool parties, at least in the time leading up to her visit to the Inn, than I was as a bookish teenager.  She'd had her belly-button pierced, too, although she didn't leave me anything to put in there.  I wondered if it was something she had as Sandra or if it was just a young-again experience she didn't feel like sharing.

Getting dressed was like riding a bike - I hadn't had to fiddle with my own bra for years, but my fingers knew the motions; same with getting clips in my hair.  Sandra left me the belly for a crop-top, and any worries that I'd look weird in the mirror were gone quickly, even after I put my glasses on (I must admit, I didn't miss needing those, but I still kind of like the look).

I called the Changs once I was all set and we agreed to meet up at Cary's truck.  Missy recognized me instantly and have me a big hug, telling me I was super-cute and saying we had to be best girlfriends for the next month.  Max seemed to have a hard time believing I had been Benjamin just the day before, but I told him to keep his chin up, because it really does all come back.

We had a fun time hanging out that day, going to the amusement park and then having beers on the beach.  I got carded for the first time in months while it dawned on Max that he didn't because he and his big brother had essentially swapped ages.  I was tempted to stay another night but also really wanted to go home for the first time in two years.

I hugged my mom so hard the next morning.  I would have done it the night before, but she was already in bed when I got to her house and cried a little to find my bedroom just like I left it; I guess Sandra never really settled in and made it hers even after that first year, preferring to spend most of the summer at her (now my) apartment in Cambridge.  Mom wanted to know what was with this sudden bout of homesickness, but didn't really press too hard, kind of just happy to have her daughter home unexpectedly.  I pulled together a story about breaking up with a boy that had a little bit of me leaving Marybeth and a little bit of me not being Benjamin anymore in it, and it probably made no sense, but Mom said encouraging things about being true to yourself that I probably could have used a lot over the last three years.

Seeing my friends from high school was a bit rougher.  Missy told me not to expect too much, because even folks who haven't been through what we have drift apart naturally when not seeing each other every day, and on top of that I guess Sandra didn't really connect with a lot of people she considered kids, so they look at me and think going to a big school ha given me a swelled head.  It's sucked the most with Gretchen, because she was my very best friend since we were like ten, and the fact that Sandra was apparently right about her boyfriend two years ago does not make up for the way she shared her opinion.

We're reconnecting, though, and through Gretchen I'm getting a bit closer to everyone else while also re-reading every textbook and assignment Sandra did as me after we stopped splitting the work because she stole my life and was therefore on her own.  It's kind of tough - she switched her focus from creative writing to journalism.  It's not really my dream, but I have to remember that it's part of how Arthur Milligan became author Penny Lincoln, and I can follow that path.

It's a lot of work to be "just Annette" again, even without considering meeting my new-to-me roommate's and classmates, so I'm afraid I'm not going to have time to be Missy's gal pal.  Maybe that will still be an option next month, though - we're both living proof that the Inn doesn't always (permanently) ruin your life!

-Annette

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.

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.

Tori C: Wanting it

After my little adventure with Leo, I was self-conscious for a few days. I had, like, a hiccup of maleness: "Oh man, I wasn't supposed to like THAT," la la la. I didn't want anyone to look at me and think "Hey that girl just got some action" so I played it down... to the point where it looked a little like I'd been through a car wreck. Like just... in my own head. A lot like when I first got back from Maine.

I came home one night not long after and ran into mom. She looked at me and said "Are you okay? You look like you've been through something."

I stared off into space and thought about it. The grin that crossed my face must've been hard to suppress and I started to blush. Mom called me on it immediately. "What's his name?"

I sighed. No way I was getting out of this one. I figured no harm in admitting it to mom. She's always been real understanding and might even be glad to hear her daughter getting some of her interests back. "Leo," I told her.

She sat me down at the table and poured herself some tea (and some for me, at my request.) "Well, go on!"

"Not much to tell..." I shrugged, "I mean, it's not serious. We just... had a little fun."

The look on her face didn't say "disappointment" exactly... but it was probably a bit of a let-down because she seemed really excited to meet her daughter's new boy. I don't think she was judging me for "having fun," but I'm trying not think about that. She just asked, "Do you like him? Does he like you?"

I tensed up. "Yeah... I don't know. He's all right. We're not really in it for... anything serious. I mean, it's a bit complicated. He used to date Cyndi." She nodded in understanding. I had told her a bit about my falling-out with Cyndi, but was still guarded as to how deeply it affected me. I went on, "So we're kinda trying to keep it from our friends, you know, unless it does get serious." And while that's not out of the question I just don't see it as being likely.

At this point, I hadn't talked to him about it yet. I also hadn't gotten anything back from Buddy about when he'd be back. My mind was swimming.

I didn't think -- and I don't think -- I have feeling for Leo. He's a nice guy, and him being bitter about Cyndi is a good trait (it shows good judgment after all) but I don't see myself with him. Buddy and I get along great (apart from his slight inability to get a hint) have a ton in common... I even like Buddy's look better than Leo (who, if you need an image, has a shaved head, some innocent tattoos, and a bunch of Cosby sweaters.) But Buddy's at what you might call a "Geographical disadvantage." If I want something now, I need to go with what's here. Gah, these things were so much easier when I was a guy and nobody wanted me! (I know, world's smallest violin right?)

So in the meantime, while Buddy was ignoring me, I tried to put it out of my head. At one point, surprisingly enough, I got a call from my soon-to-be sister-in-law Jana. She's having a whole feud with her maid of honor about wedding arrangements and wanted me to mediate. Well, I don't honestly have an opinion on centerpieces or dress designs or anything. I mean, that stuff doesn't automatically get inserted into you when you get a girl's body! That's a lifetime of tastes developing, and if you saw the way I dress and style myself, you'd know that I have very basic tastes. I figure, if I don't try anything special, there's less of a chance of looking bad.

Anyway, during that call, once I convinced her that everything she wanted was right and she should hold her ground, she asked me whether I was bringing anyone to the wedding. It's on the 16th of October, and I'm not seeing anyone seriously right now, so it was a fairly obvious no. Then she made some remarks -- which intended to be funny but didn't really come off that way -- about the tendency of guys to try to pick up single girls at wedding, and how I might consider bringing a gay friend as a shield, if I have one. I told her that would be a great idea, if I wanted to spend the whole night getting a lecture on how unfair marriage laws are in this country. I mean, Danny is a great guy and everything, but he's easy to get fired up about political matters. Sometimes I'm just not in the mood. (And as a former straight guy living as a straight girl, I feel like I should relate to all that more than I do.)

Anyway, I spent some time after my little liaison with Leo wondering what I wanted. On the main level, I really wanted somebody to do that with on a regular basis. Some intimacy to go along with friendship. A relationship. Whether I wanted it to be Leo, I don't know, but he's the most convenient option right now. And I could see myself having fun with him until it wasn't fun anymore. So when he called me again the next weekend, I jumped a little.

Nothing special. Nothing fancy. Our first meetup hadn't been planned and he neither of us wanted to do anything elaborate. I'm still a little awkward on the whole dating thing, but then again I'm also awkward on the bedroom thing, so who the hell knows? But that feels like too much of a commitment for either of us.

So last Saturday night, we went out for a walk and got some coffee. My idea: Nothing too romantic or serious, but I wanted to see if he still had his appeal with me sober. I had made an effort, though. I did my hair up as nice as I could manage, and put together a rather sweet outfit with tights, a long top and an under-boob belt. Modest, but playful.

We made some chit-chat, and I think both of us just wanted to skip-ahead. In that night, I saw the entirety of this "relationship" play out in macro. Less talk, more skin.

We got back to his place. I couldn't get my clothes off fast enough, not out of passion, but out of duty, since by that point we had grudgingly admitted that this really wasn't anything but sex.

So then it really became sex. Hot, sweaty, panting, moaning sex.

I let him go all the way this time. It felt like such a big deal every other time I've come close, but this was the first time I could feel myself letting go, and it felt so good. I was naked in front of him, and the way he looked at me... and how wanted that made me feel.

What I remember best is the feeling of excitement as we came close to the last barrier between me and this complete experience. I had been naked in front of him before, and seen him. The feeling of relief, of it not being weird and being so sure of myself made me want to keep going. And then we started.

I knew pretty much what to expect. I mean, I've been over a lot of this stuff with myself for a while now, but I don't think I ever went far enough to truly simulate the feeling of intercourse. I know how good it can feel, but maybe not necessarily how to access all that feeling, or what happens when there's another person involved

I got a shock. It was so different than being by myself, because I wasn't in control. I was so at his mercy and he knew exactly what he wanted to do with me. He kept at a consistent pace... which isn't something that works for me as much as a girl as it would've when I was just a dude. I didn't want to critique him though, since it was only my first time (although I guess it didn't feel like your typical first time.)

I liked it a lot. I mean, it seems so obvious, but maybe there was a chance I'd do it and realize that it wasn't as brilliant an experience as everyone says it is. On some level, that's the case: I mean, now that I've done it, I don't feel like I need to go out and get more right away, but it definitely felt... fulfilling. Like I was ready for it, and it was worth it.

There's still problems. I'm still not sure I'm getting what I'm supposed to out of it at the end. Sometimes it got way too rough. But what more can I say? I like this.

I went home the next morning, cleaned myself up and went to work. It's so weird bouncing past Cyndi, probably with this "I got laid last night" smirk on my face, trying to hide my pride-shame over the fact that it's her ex that I was with. I may not be head-over-heels in love with the guy, but he was too good for her. I think I deserve this.

Cliff/Tori: I was having such a good week, too.

The summer has been great for getting myself lost in my own totally undramatic life. Work, friends, family... I lead a comfortable life, it's true. This past week was particularly enjoyable until today.

A little after I came to Philadelphia last year, it was Mae's birthday. August 11th, to be specific. As you can understand, I was too caught up in my own crap to care about this random girl's 16th birthday. She was basically a stranger, and I had recently found myself transformed, moved, unemployed and whatever problem you want to put on that list. I was feeling sorry for myself, resentful of my surroundings, afraid and confronted on all sides. It was a real, real long time before I began to feel comfortable in Tori's family. The fact that I have at all says something about how awesome these people have been.

For her birthday, mom took her to a piercing place on Saturday to get a nose stud put in. I went along out of interest. When I first became Tori I had pierced ears, of course, and even put them to use during my Torification last fall, but like many of the aspects of that little experiment, I got tired of keeping up with them and stopped wearing earrings altogether. This led to the piercings closing up, and me being too lazy/focused on other things to get them done. But, I figured, since we were already there... it was a little gesture to show myself my current balance between the man I was and the woman I've become. My own woman.

I did stop just short of getting a tattoo that of my old initials -- "JHC" -- just because I don't go for that sort of thing. Plus, everyone might think it stands for Jesus H. Christ.

It was a nice family gathering after that, seeing many of those obscure cousins I still don't feel comfortable around. Aunts wondering why I'm not seeing anyone (and me getting surprisingly flustered at the question.) Always nice to hang around and be Ken's little sister. He was pretty concerned with wedding stuff, which was odd to me. I've never known a guy to take much interest in that aspect, but he professed his desire to me not to have his wedding be "lame," which amused me.

At the end of the night, with the guests all cleared out, mom took a look around the room and declared her desire to re-paint the place. Like, immediately. In the year I've been here, she's always slightly tweaking the look of the place, and on at least one occasion I came home from work and the furniture was re-arranged, but this was a new level of impulsiveness.

So after I got to learn how exhausting it is to move furniture around in a petite female body, I decided to escape the chaos by shacking up with Raine at her parents' still-empty place.

The week that ensued was one of the most relaxing of my entire time as Tori. No family, no pets, nothing but my one friend, and sometimes our other friends. She doesn't even bug me when I don't feel like hanging out, just leaves me be. Besides, Guy has been around a lot to keep her busy. And you may think "Oh that must be awkward, if they're constantly screwing around," but the truth is, if they are, they're being a little more discreet about it than mom & dad Pearce ever are.

I've gotten to learn a lot about Raine just be staying at her place. Since it's her parents' place, I try to minimize my impact by constantly washing dishes and clearing away debris. She tells me not to worry, but I can't help it. Call it a compulsion I've had since I became Tori, not to disturb the original state of things. That's how I was for the first several months of the change, before I got, possibly, too comfortable.

If only I could have her comfort with the scenario. I never realized, but Raine is really, really, um, free with her body. If she's not going out, she doesn't bother to get dressed, and has spent entire days in a pair of shorts and bra, or a swimsuit, or less. It's really more irksome to me than anything, since I can't help but look, but I'm always disappointed by what I see and how it does or doesn't affect me. It doesn't turn me on, but it still fascinates me on some weird, perverse level, so I have to remind myself not to gawk (even though, let's face it, it's pretty out of the ordinary in any context.)

Guy, luckily, has not let me catch him in any state beyond shirtless, which could be awkward for any number of reasons.

Things were going really well, until today, when I was talking to Cyndi at work. Back when we first met, it seemed like Cyndi really wanted to be my friend, and for a long while was the one I felt most comfortable around, since she had no prior relationship with Tori, no expectations for how I was supposed to react. as time went by and Sara and Raine noticed my behavior less and less, I depended on Cyndi less for companionship, which was fair enough since after the summer began, she started getting a lot of modeling jobs. See, the reason I felt so attached to Cyndi was that she is probably the most attractive woman who has ever spoken to me. And she'd never been anything but sweet and accommodating of my weirdness, and back in March, I even helped her through a spat she had with her boyfriend, Leo.

So imagine my shock when I was trying to get Cyndi to finally turn up for one of our backyard BBQ pool parties, and she just let out this exasperated sigh and cut loose, basically saying:

"I can't do this. You know I have my own life, right? I'm sick of you trying so hard to be my friend. I don't want to talk to you anymore. You're so unaware of the world around you. You sponge off other people, you coast through life, you complain about being alone in life, but you never do anything to fix it. Look at you. Sometimes you sound like an intelligent, independent person, but there are some times it sounds like you just woke up from a coma or something. The worst part of it is you work here, and what does that say about your personality? You don't even have any ambition. You're coasting" (I'd point out the hypocrisy of her saying this, but she does have those modeling jobs.) "I'm through with you, Tori. You used to be interesting, but now I just don't care. Don't talk to me. I'm done."

And that was... pretty much it. I had no idea she felt like this, but I couldn't stop thinking about it for the rest of the day, couldn't focus on work, went home and couldn't sleep. On the ride home, I started to tear up and struggled to hide my breakdown from the other SEPTA passengers. When I got back to Raine's, I hurried up to the guest room, collapsed in bed and started to bawl.

Here's the fucked-up thing: I know she's wrong. I know the reason it appears I have no ambition is because I can't actually get a job using my real skills. I know I seem whiny despite my looks, but it's because of years and years of shyness and romantic insecurity. I just can't explain any of this to her, and if she was just going to unload on me completely unprovoked, I don't want her as my friend anyway. But that doesn't mean it can't hurt my feelings that somebody thinks of me this way.

Months and months of being okay with my life -- hell, enjoying it -- nearly unraveled by one completely unrelated altercation. It just makes me think, what if I never do go back? That's a real possibility. I've got to stop wasting my time living the status quo left to me by a girl who didn't even want her life back. If the world's already changed me, I need to make changes of my own.

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.

Todd: Family Values

A lot of time has passed since I found out Deb, in my body, had impregnated a girl named Erica (previously a totally platonic friend I would never have had sex with. Probably.)

I guess I had a few expectations getting my life back. I wanted it to be exactly as I had left it, but the truth is, that was not going to be possible anyway. Before I even left for the States, I quit my job and broke up with my girlfriend, who, before we could reconcile, went and got herself transformed. No matter how I spin it, this wasn't going to be the life I wanted to get back to, so sure, why not toss in a bastard lovechild for good measure?

It is entirely likely I overreacted in my description but the truth is, I felt pretty betrayed by what Deb had done. It's not so bad that she went ahead and had sex with Erica. Yes it complicated a relatively simple, innocent acquaintanceship needlessly, but I'm used to it. I could've moved past the awkwardness like it never happened. But now there's evidence. Now it's a thing. And I guess I'm mad that Deb would've been so careless. Or that Erica would be so careless. Someone was careless and it wasn't me.

After writing that last post, I felt the urge to go see my mom. She lives in Etobicoke, far from the hustle-and-bustle of downtown life and really not that hard to get to, but for some reason I had been putting it off since getting home. I guess I was too wrapped up in my own life to think about her.

So I went out to see her without any clear decision as to whether I'd be telling her about my situation. When I got there, I had no idea what to say.

She told me, "I can tell you've got something on your mind" as she poured me an Irish coffee (we do love to drink in our family.) I was wringing my hands and drumming my fingers. Nervous habits. I wondered to myself if she'd noticed my "nervous habits" had changed over the last year. I wondered if Deb ever actually came out to visit her. "So what brings you out here?"

I wanted to tell her. I felt it all welling up in my throat as I thought back to the morning I was transformed into Anne-Marie, and after realizing I would not be going right back to Toronto, she was the second person I thought of (after Alia of course.) I wanted to tell her how I had spent a year living in a house ten times nicer than any place we'd ever lived and how it gave me an appreciation of everything she did to provide for me while Dad was in and out of the marriage (the situation between my parents was... confusing, maybe I'll explain it someday.) About how I had tried my hand at parenthood - motherhood to be exact - and occasionally found it enjoyable. When I think back on it now, more than anything about Anne-Marie's life, I miss Hayley and Connor.

I stammered, "It's been a while. I don't come around as often as I should."

She laughed. "I suppose not. I only raised you, after all."

"It's been a very... strange year."

"Are you ready to talk about it, then?"

"Talk about what?"

"Your mental breakdown."

I did a double-take. "My what?"

"Well, what would you call it? Your girlfriend broke up with you, you quit your job..."

"I wouldn't call it a mental breakdown." Well, maybe I would have.

"I didn't mind when you said you had the flu at Christmas. You didn't call me on my birthday. You didn't come to your cousin Terri's engagement party." My cousin Terri got engaged? "I don't blame you, you never were the most organized, but I want you to know I've noticed. A mother notices these things and I want you to tell me if there's something wrong."

"I didn't mean to worry you, mom--"

"Oh, you want to talk about worried? How abut disappearing to the States for months on end with hardly a postcard or e-mail?"

I sat thinking about it for a moment, my mind running over the effect my absence had had on my mother. I had been very involved with Anne-Marie's family, but Deb hadn't gone out of her way to be part of mine. And as much as I wanted to be mad at her for that, the fact is it wasn't that far off from the way I had been before. I'd come to family gatherings and act aloof from everyone, snipe and start arguments with distant relatives if it suited me, because I didn't like being made to interact with them. Shit, more than one Thanksgiving/Christmas/Birthday/Reunion I came stoned and/or drunk just to deal with it, when I wasn't outright skipping them. The behaviour my mom was chiding me for was my own, not just Deb's.

"I needed to grow up," I told her.

"Well I'm glad you said it." She smiled a warm, motherly grin, "But what are you going to do about it?"

I took a long, thoughtful sip and decided to tell her.

"Something's happened. Someone's pregnant."

"Someone?" She asked. I nodded. "Not Alia?"

"No."

"Are you seeing this girl?"

"No. Someone else is."

She heaved a deep, disappointed sigh. I was sure to add, "He wasn't seeing her at the time. I think they were, you know, broken up, or on a break or whatever, and I didn't think it was going to-- well, it doesn't matter. I made a mistake." The weird thing is, I have made mistakes, and it would do me well to admit them, even if this isn't one of them.

"And what happens now?" she asked. "Is she keeping it?"

"To my knowledge."

"And you're, what, going to help raise it? Support the kid? Play dad? Or just sign the kid away to his other daddy?"

"I... I haven't figured it out yet."

"Well," she finished her coffee, and I'd finished mine, so she cleared the cups away. "When you do, let me know. Because I want to help you, but you've got to decide these things for yourself. I want you to do whatever you feel is right, Todd."

"Thanks, mom," I stood to leave. I gave her a big, warm hug and a kiss. It felt good to reconnect with her... we hadn't talked that seriously since way, way before I left. I forgot how much of a straight-talker she can be when the situation calls for it. She can be a tough lady, my mom, and I admire her for it.

I left still not knowing what to do, but feeling I was on the right track to properly addressing the situation.

-Todd