Todd/Anne-Marie: Mystery of the bra

After we got home from New York things kinda took a turn for the lazy around here. That's what happens, I guess, you just formulate routines and get through the day. For the most part I've been getting up early, exercising, cleaning, cooking, watching TV... just being a lazyass pampered housewife I suppose.

And then one day, Hal decides to go fishing in the cushions of the couch, and what does he find?

A bra.

At first, he thought it was pretty amusing. "Honey, you're such a slob, I love you," blah, blah, gag me.*

(*I love late 80's valley girl slang, I have no idea why.)

But as he hands it to me, something immediately catches my attention... the fact that it's obviously not mine. I would know if I lost a bra in the living room sofa, and I know this is not quite Anne-Marie's size. There were only a couple of possible suspects as to the owner of the bra - it was probably "Julia," whom we'd hired to watch the house while we were in New York.

So I drove over there on the weekend, went up to her place, made sure Todd-2 wasn't around, and threw the bra down on her kitchen table. "Look," I say, "I'm a pretty open-minded person and all, and whatever you do in Julia's body isn't any of my concern, but for God's sake please don't leave your underwear in my furniture."

Seemingly unnerved, she glares at the bra a moment, then looks up at me with those big, brown eyes. God, Julia's a hottie. I think about what I've just said, then immediately smack my own face and correct myself. "I mean... your furniture. Oh, God, I mean, I know it's yours, I don't really think of any of this as mine... this is just very stressful."

"No, it's not that..." she says quietly, clearing her throat. "That's not mine."

I tell her again, "It's not mine."

She just shakes her head. She means it's not Julia's, either. She explained: Saturday night, when she was supposed to be looking after the house (the Adkissons have a cat and some fish.) "Julia" had to run some errands, so she had "Kalli" watch over the house for just a few hours.

We just sat there quietly a moment, realizing exactly what had been going on. About twenty minutes went by, neither of us hardly saying anything, just trying to figure out exactly how to deal with this, when "Kalli" and Todd-2 walked in the door, laughing. J and I were on the couch. "Julia" spoke up - "Hi Todd, could you, um, let us talk a while?"

"Uh, sure thing Jules," he left, uncertain exactly what was going on. He gestured at me, "Who's this? I'm Todd."

I gave him a firm, nonplussed handshake. "Anne-Marie."

"Are you two related?"

'Julia' - "It's complicated. Do you mind?"

"No, sure thing ladies," he said. "See you tomorrow Kal?" She nodded. He kissed her on the cheek as he left.

As soon as he was gone, I tossed the bra at her. "What's up, Kal? Thought you might want this."

She rolled her eyes and groaned. "Here we go."

"What do you think you're doing?" Anne-Marie/Julia started in, suddenly sounding very motherly, "He is way too old for you."

"Not that it's any of your business, Julia but we just went to the movies."

"What are you doing leaving your underwear at my house?" she continues. "You shouldn't be..." she let the ellipses complete her thought.

Ellie folded her arms across her chest. "I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm old enough to take care of myself," indicating Kalli's body.

I watched on as they proceeded to play out a typical-sounding mother-daughter argument, in the bodies and voices of these equally-aged girls. Apparently what happened in South Carolina is that they ran into Todd-2, who was looking to get back with Julia. Anne-Marie, however, was determined to stay faithful to her husband, and didn't want to complicate matters by taking on Julia's ex-boyfriend, so somehow, the affection gets shifted over to Kalli, and somehow nobody thinks at first what a horrible idea for a girl with the mind of a 14-year-old but a body a decade older to have a sexually experienced boyfriend, who would probably have some expectations.

Ellie/Kalli pleads innocent - they haven't had sex and she doesn't plan on it. I attest that all I found was a bra, which is hardly exonerating evidence and nobody's too thrilled about the idea of her letting him get to second base. She admits, yeah, it's been getting kind of heavy, but she never intended to go all the way, and was up front with him about it.

Then she did awful that thing ever teenage girl I've ever known does in an argument - takes it someplace else beyond reason.

"And so what if I did it, anyway?"

Now that's a Pandora's Box to open. As soon as Anne can say anything in response, Kalli is firing the salvo. "We've been living like this for months. I'm not the same person I was when I was Ellie, and you can't treat me like some dumb kid. Kalli definitely wasn't a virgin, so what point would there be in denying it, if I wanted it?"

Anne, suddenly overwhelmed, sat on the couch with her elbows on her knees. She collected her thoughts a moment before starting in, "You should be taking care of yourself... no matter whose life you've got. You've only known Todd [Jones] for a few weeks. If he's your first experience... and don't forget Kalli's experiences are not yours... it might affect you when we go back. These are just decisions too big for us to handle with lives that won't be ours forever."

I nodded along. Anne was seeming surprisingly wise.

Then Kalli pointed at me and asked, "Why is it okay for her to have sex with Uncle Hal?" I must've looked surprised for a moment, but she added, "Dude, I totally read the blog."

Anne sighs and says, "Because... It just is." Not really a good answer, but she continued. "Todd had experience enough to make the right decision, and because I know my husband, and trust him. We agreed."

"Weren't you worried she'd, like, fall in love with him because of the sex?"

I laugh quietly, self-deprecatingly. "Ellie, sex isn't love." It's the kind of thing a man is more likely to say than a woman.

Ellie got a little somber, sitting on the arm of the chair near me. "It's just not fair. I'm so free right now, and in a few months I have to give it all up and go back to the way things were."

I sit next to her and pat her shoulder. "I know it isn't fair, but you have a whole life of your own to go back to. You have awkward teen years to live out, and a terrible, terrible first time with a boy who is equally clueless as you to look forward to."

She smiled. "Todd, you're a goof." I've been called worse. "But I'm just worried that things aren't going to work out once we leave these lives. That's the big question."

I shrug and say that's a problem for Julia and Kalli to deal with. Ellie shoots me a look. "Didn't... Aunt Anne tell you?" I shake my head and look over at "Julia," who seems guilty of something.

Her voice turned grave. "Um, I guess I never mentioned it. Todd, I haven't been able to contact the original Kalli and Julia. We have no idea where they are, and we may not be able to get them their lives back."

Oh.

-Todd/AM

Todd/Anne-Marie: The city so nice they named it twice.

I've been piecing this entry together over the past few days, so if it seems disjointed, I apologize... but that laundry isn't going to fold itself.

Once Hal insisted the New York trip not be a girls-only trip, he got very excited about it and started making a ton of calls. It turns out there are a number of ways to entertain yourself in New York that kids are able to participate in.

Friday afternoon, we picked the kids up from school and drove straight to New York, depositing our stuff at the hotel in New Jersey. I had a little moment of Inn-magic when the kids got in the car, and my iPod was still plugged into the sound system, so very suddenly and very uncharacteristically, the family was treated to "Wrong 'Em Boyo" by the Clash. Hayley asked what it was, and when I said it was a punk band from the 70's, she just shrugged and said "Oh, I knew it was something old." Kids today.

At the hotel, we were all to change into our finest duds, as our first stop was a nice restaurant whose name was something Italian I cannot remember. I don't typically dress like a slob, but as I was picking out a set of earrings to bring on the trip I wondered if maybe I was overdoing it. How deeply entrenched in Anne-Marie's place I sometimes feel. But as I slipped on the very tasteful dress I'd brought along, I put on my brave face, and turned to see Hal fiddling with his tie. Envy. I straightened it for him, although I never much liked ties, only had one job where I had to wear one, and haven't been to that many weddings/funerals.

Sidenote: this was the first hotel I'd stayed at since Maine, and part of me expected to wake up one morning totally changed again. I used to have nightmares about it.

Saturday was the busy day, because I had gone behind Hal's back and made plans that didn't involve the family. Under the pretense that I was going to shop for something sexy and intimate to wear, I palmed the kids off on Hal, who took them to the Museum of Modern Art for a few hours. Turns out Hal's into art. Who knew?

(*To cover my tracks I did pick up a little something. It's uncomfortable as hell but it's not like I have to walk around in it... I feel like it's time to try spicing up my sex life a bit, as I'm starting to get bored with the routine.)

The real plan was to head to a little out-of-the-way coffee place in Tribeca, to meet some fellow Inn visitors. I had no idea what to expect or what I hoped to get out of the experience. I have thus far only met the ones directly involved in my life, most of whom are keen to get back to their old arrangements asap (the enigmatic Donna being the exception.) Here we have people whose last trip to the inn was years ago, some of whom don't ever intend on going back.

As I was fumbling through my purse for the proper currency to pay for my latte (have I ever mentioned how much I hate American money? It's all green!) I heard a voice behind me. "Anne-Marie?" A shock ran through my system, the way it does whenever I am unexpectedly called by that name, although being called "Todd" has had the same effect lately. I turned to see a gorgeous Latina woman in a beige turtleneck, scarf, jeans that rose just above her hips, and a light coat. I looked into her eyes and asked, tentatively, "...Ginessa?"

She smiled and nodded. "That's me." After ordering her drink, she pointed to some seats in the corner. She turned and smiled,

"Sorry, Darren likes sitting where no one can see her."

"No problem. I guess I expected as much from the blog. Have you been following it lately?"

"Not really," she replied a little nonchalantly, "only what Darren tells me. To be honest it’s really Darren’s thing. She thinks it’s a good way to cope with being a girl; where as that ceased to be an 'issue' for me a while ago."

"Really, so you don’t know much about me?"

"I know you’re married too, right? How do you like it?" she smiled.

I didn't really know how to answer, so I just tried to be honest. "It's... tough. I've been really good friends with Anne-Marie, and kind of doing her a favor by keeping things good with her husband. The trouble is that usually I compromise in his favor because I don't want to rock the boat. I don't think this is anything like a real marriage, not that that's a subject I know anything about." I looked at her expectantly.

She said nothing for a while, before asking, "Should I call you Todd? This is always awkward and I don't want anyone to feel more uncomfortable than they already are."

"Todd is good, please."

"Todd, it sounds like you’re doing a very noble thing. I often feel the same way about my marriage. Women have to put up with a lot of crap from men. Just remember there’s such a thing as girl power," she smiled at me at wryly. I smiled too, which kind of broke the awkward tension. It made it easier to open up.

From there the conversation really took off. She asked me if I found it hard to just pick up in the middle of a relationship. I told her it was like wearing someone else's old shoes - they don't fit right, but they're not rigid, either. The Adkissons had reached a comfortable zone, although before I came into it, there had been some marital difficulties, suspicions, arguments that in some ways haven't been resolved. I underlined it was probably very different for her, thinking about her newlywed situation.

"The fucked up thing is, like, wanting to get your way, but also wanting what's best for the family. I don't come first in my own life most of the time, and that's... frustrating."

She asked me what I knew about her, I said not much apart from what was written. She was originally a guy called Mark, and as Ginessa, certain green card issues forced her to marry a guy. That raised her eye brows.

She objected by saying "forced" was a strong word. She told me it was a choice she made, and not a very easy one. I said I understood perfectly - that she wanted to stay in her home country, rather than get deported to a place she knew nothing about. She pointed out that there were other options if she wanted them, but realized there was something appealing about the stability her husband Gavin was offering - that after the tumult of her life after the transformation, she needed something to hold on to, and she was tired of feeling like she was doing something wrong.

I told her again I understood - that it's not easy inheriting someone else's crap. I'd never so much as babysat before suddenly finding myself playing house. Ginessa agreed but then said something to illustrate the difference in our situation.

"But you can stand all that, because you tell yourself, 'Its okay, I'm going back.' But I'm not going back, I've been this way for a few years now and I like it! Jaime..." she coughed and did some finger-quotes "Darren... sometimes just doesn't get it. If she wants to keep trying to go back, that's fine for her, but sometimes I feel like she resents me because I never tried. She's been a woman for nearly 2 years and I think she still believes it's less than being male. You don't agree do you?"

I didn't know what to say. She was getting very emotional - not teary-eyed, just kinda caught up in her little speech. And I really don't know what I think, and I'm not in the same place to judge. So I said to her, trying to be sensitive, "I don't really... but I do think of being Anne-Marie as less than Todd, not because being a mom is for losers or anything but because I'm not me and I can't be me like this. I don't look down on you because you never went back, it kinda looks like you're rocking this. I hope you don't think bad of me because I am."

She nodded; "No you’re right, sorry. I think that’s a respectable point of view. I didn't want to sound too self-righteous or anything. It’s just that Darren can be so frustrating."

There was then a lull in the conversation and she asked a very difficult question. "If you had gone to the Inn and woken up more like Jaime, or like me... a woman, but without any baggage or responsibilities... what do you think you'd do? I mean, do you think you could've gotten used to it, if you couldn't go back?"

I didn't know what to tell her. It was a scary thought: made me realize that physically I have gotten as comfortable being a woman as I could ever imagine. Perhaps the only reason I'm not staying is because I want to give Anne-Marie her life back, not so much because I want to get back to my own. And if that was not possible... and if nobody was counting on me... would I be okay to stay? What if I could just coast and never worry about Todd's problems again?

After thinking on all this a while, all I told her was, "Thankfully, I don't really have to think about that. There's someone out there that belongs in this life a lot more than I do."

I thought a moment and added, "Plus sometimes I just get the urge to be a guy... watch hockey, do some boxing, feel a woman's breasts that aren't my own. Like say, Blondie by the counter. I bet she's good for a go." I snickered, eyeing a gorgeous chick getting her coffee. Ginessa turned and got a somewhat embarrassed look on her face.

"Todd - that's Jaime."

My face flushed red, and we both burst out into laughter. Jaime came up to us. "Hey Ginessa, and you must be Todd. What's so funny?" We both quieted the urge to keep laughing. Ginessa just smiled at Jaime and said, "I'll tell you later."

Jaime sat down and shook my hand, very politely. I gave her a once-over trying to re-orient my perception of her, but I couldn't. I know that from the blog Darren was a tough military type guy, but here's this very smartly-dressed young lady, with her hair done back and the top couple buttons on her blouse undone, teetering in a pair of knee high two inch heel boots that didn’t scream "combat." She just looked like... a woman. Maybe she was thinking the same of me, but I have an image to keep up. If I could walk around all day in band t-shirts and cargo shorts I probably would. But no, Jaime is a head-turner, and mine wasn't the only head affected in the place, I can tell you that.

Darren sipped her coffee and asked me what I thought of New York. I told her that I loved it every time I came, and it was way better than the suburbs. I missed that rhythmic, pulsing vibe you get from a busy city. It's not Montreal, which is pretty much my favorite city, or Toronto, which will always be home, but it's a great place to be. We briefly made chit-chat about Darren's life, before Darren asked what we'd been talking about before she came in, and I looked kind of embarrassed saying vaguely that it was mostly about married life.

She rolled her eyes and said we probably had a lot in common. Ginessa looked embarrassed. And then something kinda bad happened. My obnoxiousness instinct kicked in. It doesn't come up a lot when I'm being Anne-Marie but I can't resist the urge to make other people feel uncomfortable just to test them and amuse myself. I know it's rude and not very nice, but it's so easy to do in a situation like this. So I started riffing.

"Well sure we do," I started in, "But we disagree on a lot of key points. Ginessa here likes the reverse cowgirl position, whereas I've always been a fan of straight-up missionary. She's a very take-charge kind of gal, and I'm just lazy."

"Todd!" she interjected, now both a little embarrassed but somewhat pleasantly surprised (I get the impression Ginessa would like to talk about sex but doesn’t around Jaime). She gave me a playful slap on the arm. Darren was practically squirming at what Ginessa and I thought was a harmless joke.

"No need to get uptight, Ginny.... we're three mature people here. We've all had sex in one body or another." Darren averted her eyes. "And I'm sure that when you guys were guys, you had no problem with locker room talk."

"It's not funny," Darren said.

"Give it time," I sipped my coffee. "Comedy is tragedy plus time. I make these jokes because I'm not serious about it. Ginessa maybe is, but I'm not really into it. So I kid, okay? Look, I didn't mean to hurt your feelings."

Darren gave me a death-glare and muttered, "You didn't 'hurt my feelings.' You just sounded really..."

"Really what?"

"Really girly! You’re not at all what I expected." she says, disapprovingly.

"Oh, sorry Rambo," I groaned, "But what color are your panties? You only think I sound girly because of what I look like. Look at me, man." I had trouble calling her that because even if intellectually I know she's Darren, she just looks like chick. "“Maybe I look like Anne-Marie Adkisson, but my name is Todd Casey. No matter what I look like I'm still a 24-year-old guy who can't help but stare when he's sitting next to hot chick such as yourself."

I cringed inside the way you realize you’ve said something you shouldn’t. I love to go on and on and seldom know when to stop. Worse, I had admitted something she'd probably already noticed - her looks really had my attention.

Before the flustered Darren/Jaime could start in, I instantly tried to apologize for being a dick. I explained that laughing about it was one of the ways I get through my days. There's so much stress that goes along with being wife-mother-woman that if I didn't let my Todd-side out every so often I'd go insane. I’m not sure if Darren bought it. She did bring up her thing with routine, how it's helped her get through some tough times. It seemed we were starting to find some common ground. Still, I regret what I said and how I said it.

It wasn’t long before we all finished our coffees. Still sensing a bit of tension I decided to leave and catch a cab back to the hotel.

The remainder of the trip was uneventful. We went to see the Lion King that night, and on Sunday after brunch I took Hayley to a spa. My God I never knew a massage could be so good. I may have seemed a little out-of-sorts that night as we drove home.

I began to think about the two women I'd just met. I've gotten used to thinking of myself as being a woman "for now," but I still wonder what would happen if "for now" became "forever." Knock on wood. I wondered where I fit between the two of them. Ginessa has grown a healthy attachment to her body and life. She seems to love her man, and doesn't have any hang-ups about anything about herself. I wasn't even that confident when I was in my original body. She makes a great girl and yet there's something scary about that if I try to see myself in her shoes. Still, if I had to keep going like this, I'd want her in my corner.

Darren, I related to. No, we didn't get along all that well, but that probably has more to do with our actual personalities. Even as a woman, she seemed a little like the jocky alpha-male type I always hated in high school (and who always hated me back because I had an easy time getting chicks without showering with guys. Guess the joke's on me these days, huh?) But I completely understand her - she made an attempt to get back to her original life, and it didn't work out, and now her future is uncertain. That's not a comfortable situation to be in.

I guess I'm somewhere in between. Like I told Ginessa, it isn't being a woman that bothers me anymore, it's being Anne-Marie Adkisson. And every time I have that thought, I wonder if the real Anne-Marie would also rather be anyone else. And the idea that I might have to pass this body along to a third owner, frankly, bothers the hell out of me.

And the idea that something might go wrong, and I'd have to get my third set of shoes for walking... and the idea that those might be the last...... I don't want to go there either.

-Todd/AM

Todd/Anne-Marie: Why I was not in New York this weekend

Sometimes, I utterly forget that I'm married.

I wear the ring, I share my bed, I cook and clean for the guy, and yet it's remarkably easy for me to just push him out of my head when I need to. Like say, when I spontaneously promise Hayley a trip to New York on a few days' notice, along with a spa trip and whatever other tourist goodies might come her way.

It wasn't long before it dawned on me that it wasn't really my call. When Hayley went to ask her dad about it, he asked me to see him in the bedroom. I felt like I was called into the principal's office. I sat on the bed. He stood by the dresser.

"What's this I'm hearing about a New York trip? Hayley said you were taking her there this weekend."

Somewhat ashamed, I just looked down at my feet and said, "Maybe."

"That's... you can't just do that, Anne-Marie. We need to talk about this."

"Okay, so let's talk."

"You can't just go off on a trip whenever you feel like it!" he says. "Last summer you disappeared for nearly a month with my sister's daughter. Anything could've happened to you. We were so worried. And you've been making plans to go back there this summer."

He goes on and on and I guess I'm supposed to feel guilty, but from my perspective nothing's wrong. I was starting to feel really bummed out for being talked to in that way, but at the same time... I zoned out because it didn't really apply.

So I told him, "Yes, but can we keep this about New York?"

"I'm not made out of trips, Annie. You should've consulted me first."

"I'm sorry," I said, "I just... I panicked, because I realized, in case you didn't notice, we kind of forgot our daughter's birthday. I thought it might offset that a little bit."

"I just don't think we can afford it. Between this and your little Maine vacation..." he keeps bringing Maine into it. I want to deal with that at another time.

I start to reason with him, "Look. I've been cutting back spending. I haven't bought clothes or shoes in months." It's true, I've indulged in a little shopping since transforming, usually with "Julia," but for the most part I live on the cheap like I did when I was poor. "We've saved plenty to make both this and Maine work."

"Okay look, we'll go online, we'll find a Holiday Inn in Secaucus or something, and we can drive into the city next weekend. I don't know about this spa thing, but we can at least see a show or something."

I just look at him. "We?"

He laughs, "You didn't think you were gonna go to New York City without me and Connor, did you?" I guess not. "And we'll talk about Maine too. Could be very romantic." He kisses me on the cheek. I want to tell him, "Um, no, we will not talk about Maine, you are not coming to Maine." but at this point he left the room.

I guess it was a little presumptuous to assume I could make these plans without involving Hal. I don't mind him coming along to NYC, because now there's a chance I can get away and see those other nearby Inn folks I've been talking with (through the magic of Facebook, MSN and E-Mail.) But I really do not like the idea that he'll follow his wife to Maine. That's just asking for trouble.

Meanwhile in South Carolina...

From what I hear, "Julia" and "Kalli" escaped just in time to miss a massive storm in that area, flying into Logan a few nights ago (maybe they should've stopped in on Art and Ashlyn!) and driving the few hours back to our neck of the woods. Kalli's mom's angina flared up so she was called back home, and, having nothing better to do, went, with "Julia" as a secret chaperon. They came back one heavy. This is where it gets weird.

I don't know what has been running through Anne-Marie's mind since she became Julia, but she was certainly very concerned that I do my best to keep up her relationship with her husband. I've done my best and tried to put a positive spin on it, but it's still kind of a chore to get down with the guy every now and again. But it was all for a good cause.

Anyway, when "Julia" got back in town, she was immediately contacted by an old flame of Julia's - very unfortunately named Todd Jones (T2, or Jonesy for the purposes of this blog.) And for whatever reason, she decided that somehow it would be appropriate for her to bring this guy back to Connecticut, where she is a married woman living in another person's body with her similarly transformed 14-year-old niece. Doesn't this all sound a little inappropriate?

I don't know what to think. Is she banging this guy? And if she is, should I be upset? After all, I wish the new me would keep up relations with Alia alive, but s/he hasn't, and I just have to live with it. And she can't sleep with her own husband, and, what, should she be a nun? I guess not. It just pisses me off that there's not another option. Hal cheating on me with her sounds really good right now.

And what kind of example does this set for "Kalli," who for all intents and purposes is the same age as Julia? I feel like I'm the only mature one around here and that is not a good role for me.

Ugh, it's so frustrating.

And as if that wasn't bad enough...

Friday mornings I go to the gym. Last week, after my session, I was drying off from the shower and changing back into my day clothes... self-consciously trying to eyeball the nubile young ladies and re-create some of Bry's observations for my own (no luck) when I get cornered by who else but Donna, wearing her workout gear.

Apparently, she didn't take kindly to the tone I took in my voicemail. She gives me this stern look before just sighing. "Anne-Marie, I can tell you have something you want to get off your chest." I froze - as luck would have it, my hands happened to be cupping my breasts at the time. She continued, "I want you to know that no matter what, I'm your friend and I'm here for you. We disagree on some things, and maybe someday you'll see my point of view, but for now, I'd still like us to be close."

Despite knowing I am not the Anne-Marie she knew, Donna still seems to be treating me like the person I look like. It makes me wonder if Donna truly understands what the Inn does to people. I just shook my head and continued to dress. "Whatever."

"If that means unburdening yourself and telling me all about who you used to be, I'm ready to hear it. If it means helping you get through this, I'll be glad to."

I scoffed. "Is this, like, a joke to you? Are you messing with me? Whatever. If you want to talk, we'll talk, but not today." I just wasn't in the mood for her crap.

More later - I've got to start dinner.
-Todd/AM

Brandon/Laura: My Life and the Plan

When I first posted here, I posted my "change story" and didn't post again for another month. This left a reader to post a comment that said "So are you just enjoying your life so much that you decided to stop posting". I vehemently denied this and went on to post a 4 part update of every little detail in my life.

Since then, I guess the poster was right. Things are going good for me. Its not like I actively ENJOY living as Laura, but I'm very comfortable and it could be a helluva lot worse.

Work is going fantastic, strangely enough. After the first few month of direct coaching from the real Laura via Instant Messenger, I really got the hang of it. Laura's sales figures are only down 7% from last year (which, when you consider the market, isn't that bad). I may even have a career doing this when i get back to my old life, if only I could put this on my resume. "9 months experience as actual mortgage broker".

My personal life is actually manageable too. For the first few weeks I was scared to death to have anything to do with any of Laura's friends, afraid that I would blow my cover, but that attitude only arose more suspicion and at the real Laura's behest I started hanging out with them.

According to Laura's facebook (an INVALUABLE tool), she has around 350 friends. Now, she doesn't actually hang out with all them, at least not frequently. Her main group of friends is only 3 thick: Nadine, Lila, and Jasmine. All three of them are very cute and Jasmine is downright gorgeous. You know how when you go to a bar or a club, there are various groups of girls giggling and being obnoxious the whole time? Those are my new friends. I am one of them. We go out to places, have a few cosmos, or appltinis, or Smirnoff ices, and just be loud and girly. The first night we did this all I could think was "I'm going to kill them, or kill myself", but you'd be surprised what premium malt liquor does to make this tolerable. (I tried ordering a gin and tonic once, but the puzzled looks they all gave me made this a one time occurrence)

When we're not drinking, we're shopping, or going to movies, or going to restaurants or just enjoying the single life. I'm able to keep up in the conversation by just talking about work, the news, or the lives of my new friends. One topic I'm not well versed on, is boys.

You see, despite loving the single life, all of Laura's friends seem to want to not be single, and are always meeting new and interesting guys. They ll often go home with guys we meet, and sometimes they ll have a few more dates, but none of them have succeeded in bagging a husband (the closest anyone got was Jasmine, she had a bf for a whole month). I have not done any of this, which was a huge surprise to my friends.

Apparently, Laura was...sexually assertive...that's the nicest word that exists for it. She enjoyed sex. Before she met Jack (her ex), she used to play the field. Her phone is full of guys names that I doubt she called on a regular basis (this also probably explains the throng of facebook friends). I just don't want to get involved with anything because in a way, this still doesn't feel like my life.

Not like that would bother Laura one bit, she gave me the green light to do whomever I felt like as long as I was safe. I didn't even bring up the subject, it just came up one day when we were talking right after she had sex as Marissa with Marissa's boyfriend for the first time. It was basically "Oh, by the way, if you need to get some in my body go right ahead, just make sure you use a condom or make sure hes gotten all the STD tests and is clean". I had no intention of getting some, but I did get her birth control shot in December just so she's not thrown off schedule.

And for those of you who are wondering, yes this body has needs. I experienced it just like Todd did after a few months. Fortunately, unlike Todd I don't have a husband, and also unlike Anne Marie, Laura had a drawer full of toys to help me take care of business, just so I can keep my sanity.

ANYWAY, despite being soundly comfortable in this life, I set a plan in motion to get back to my old body. I'm probably one of the luckier ones at the inn, as there isn't anybody running around in the world living as me. My body is still somewhere in Limbo, still waiting to be bestowed on the next guest who stays in room 8 when the Inn reopens. After reading this blog and the story of Paul Miller, I decided that I wasn't going to let people think I disappeared for a year. As a result, Brandon went to Europe. I still email all my family and friends as my old self to let them know what a great time I'm having and that I'll be back sometime in May. So far, no one is the wiser, although I will have to say my digital camera was stolen when i "return" with no photographic evidence of my trip.

Last month, I woke up at the crack of dawn and frantically dialed the number for the Trading Post Inn. This was the very first day to make reservations and I didn't want to leave anything to chance. Apparently this was a common idea, as the line was busy for a full 10 minutes.

When I finally got through, I tried to make my reservation for room 8, only to find out that it was already booked. This mortified me. I couldn't think if it was booked by someone who didn't know about the curse or by someone who didn't know about the caveat of having to stay in the same room. All I knew was that I had to be in room 8 on the night of the change. I booked room 10 instead, and made up my mind to find a way into room 8 this May.

Laura called later that day to confirm her reservation 2 weeks later, she was able to get the right room, but I explained to her my situation and told her Id let her know what room to stay in to get her body back, whether it was 8 or 10.

So until then I'm just living the life. Deep undercover.

Todd/Anne-Marie: Expectations.

I would like to believe I have it easy. I would like to believe *(as Donna seems to) that I have been given a gift of a new life all wrapped up in a pretty little bow. An amazing house, an extremely stable upper-middle class (lower upper class?) financial state, nice car, a "husband" who is a decent guy, if slightly inattentive and short-tempered at times, and two kids who generally stay out of trouble. But even with all that going for me, there are so many caveats that come with this life that I simply cannot wait to leave.

It's a matter of responsibility and expectations. Like, I'm technically a mom - a parent and a woman. So even though I don't talk abut it much, I have to take care of these kids, as well as Hal. I keep the place cleanish, I cook meals, do laundry, and grocery shop... things I barely had the urge to do when I was only looking after myself. Yes, oftentimes I can count on Julia's help, but last week she and Kalli went back down to South Carolina. Kalli's mom was sick and they were basically forced to go by the real Kalli's family. And Anne-Marie of course doesn't want Ellie traveling by herself, so she got a week off from Hal's office and went down there with her.

But whatever. I'm managing. It's been good, except when it's not. It's very stressful keeping so many pots on the stove and when I need to vent, well - I've got two choices: this computer and Bryan, who mainly just makes fun of it. So it's hard not to just go completely bitchcakes on everyone sometimes.

Which is why I found it really surprising when Hayley came into the living room while I was watching TV the other night, and asked in an accusing voice, "What is wrong with you lately?"

I just looked at her. What a question. I couldn't even begin, so I just sat there until I could finally say, "Excuse me?"

"Mom I didn't want to point this out or anything, but you've been acting really weird for a long time and I thought it was nothing but it's starting to bug me. So is something going on, or what?"

"What do you mean is something going on?"

"I dunno. With you and dad, or something? Are you guys fighting or something? Did I do something wrong? You're always really weird around me and I don't get it."

While it would be really helpful for me to just say "I'm not your mother," I think that at best that would serve only to confuse her, and at worst, likely traumatize her for life. So I turn off the TV and sit up straight. "Honey, come here." She sits down. "Nothing's wrong." (Lie.) "Your father and I are getting along fine." (Truth.) "But I really want to hear what's on your mind, so please start at the beginning." (Half-truth.)

"I don't know I just feel like... you don't care about me anymore. We don't talk like we used to and I miss it." A tear fell down her cheek and she sniffled, "And it really hurts, 'cause... it's a week to my birthday and you haven't even asked me about it or anything, it's like you forgot."

I feel like an idiot. I mean, there's no way I could've known - Anne-Marie sure as hell didn't warn me - but Hayley here is really hurting. And I'm just stunned at all this stuff that's pouring out of her. I wrapped an arm around her and she leaned her head on my shoulder. She goes on, "I overheard you talking about going to Maine with Ellie and I just... it's like you care about her more than me and she's not your daughter!" Full-blown waterworks by now. My heart is racing with guilt. "Why won't you take me to Maine, mom? Why do you care so much about her?"

I froze only a moment while I started to put some pieces together in my head. I had already been a pretty good liar before it became a fact of life that I would always be lying. Because the best lies are based in truth, this is what I said:

"Honey," I ran my fingers through her hair as she cozied up to me. "I know that sounds harsh, but you've got to understand... Ellie... just wants a little trip away from her mom. You wouldn't like it in Maine, it's not a very nice place, and it's not open in the wintertime. So I just had to make the arrangements now. But for you..." This is where my mind started to search until finally I pulled it out of my subconscious, "I've got something a lot nicer for you. I was going to make it a surprise, but if you don't like it you can tell me now. For your birthday, you and I are going... to New York! I'm going to take you for the weekend, and we'll go to a spa and see the town and do lots of fun things. What do you say?"

She stopped sobbing for a moment. She pulled her chin up and look at me. And by God she broke out the biggest smile I've seen on a girl in years. "Mom, that sounds so awesome! Thank you!" And she kissed me on the cheek and bounded off, wiping away the remaining tears.

And I sat there thinking, okay, now I've got to arrange this. And as my body shook off the leftover guilt that had settled in the pit of my stomach, I felt a lump of anger in my throat that I even felt guilty about this at all. After all, like I said, this was not my fault, it shouldn't be my responsibility, and it's just another thing that is expected of me that I don't want and shouldn't have to deal with. Yes, I'm glad to do something nice for this girl on her birthday, but... goddamn. The point is, no matter how many chores I do, meals I cook, rooms I clean... I'm not a mom, not deep inside, and I feel like it's going to kill me if I keep having to pretend like this.

I needed some way to focus my frustration. So as soon as I took out my frustration on my pillows, I phoned up Donna. I got voicemail. "Listen Lady, I know we haven't talked in a while, but I think it's time we laid it all out there. I'm going to Maine this summer, and I'm going to New York this weekend, and in between, you're gonna tell me everything there is to know about Donna Hayes."

It meant to sound a lot more threatening than it did. She hasn't called me back yet.

But anyway. If any of you transformees in NYC want to get in touch now would be the time. I think I might be able to work something out...

-Todd/Anne-Marie

Bryan/Ellie: Figuring my stuff out.

I've felt really strange lately. You try walking down the halls of a school where half the people - boys and girls - are taller than you, and half of every set of eyes glances over you when they pass, either to eye-fuck you or judge you, or both.

I look different now than I did when I started. Over the Christmas break "it" happened... I had to get new bras and tops because I had outgrown my old ones. Ellie's boobs are coming in and nothing can stop them.

This isn't really easy to talk about with a bunch of strangers but then again everyone around here is a stranger to me in one way or the other...... emily doesn't really know who I am and it would just be embarrassing to talk about with Todd (although clearly he reads this) and there's no way in hell i'm gonna sit down with the McClays and talk about this. So I might as well just let it all out here and hope it works?

I think I've figured out why I was feeling so shitty for so long, and I guess I'll just have to continue feeling that way. We were in the locker room before gym class. Every guy's fantasy, right? A free pass to the ladies' change room and nobody's the wiser. Except I have felt super-self-conscious lately because I've seen girls pick on each other for glancing around the wrong way. Plus I realized that since I've been Ellie I've put about 20 pounds on her body. I didn't think anything of it but when you got from 115 to 135, in 6 months, that's a fair bit, and it's not all in the boobs. I can't stop putting on weight even though it's not like I eat like a pig or anything. It's weird. 

Anyway, I was trying to keep to myself when my friend Emily coems up beside me and starts talking about Valentine's day. Her kinda-boyfriend Mike was gonna be out of town for the weekend and she says please can we do girls' night? And while she's telling me all this I realize she's just standing there changing out of her top and her bra and she's letting her breasts just hang in my face... and first I get lost in thought, thinking "wow, hers are still so much bigger than mine, but they look good and she seems happy with them..." and then I think how nice that is to look at, and it's all I can do not to stare at them, and that's when I realize how badly I've wanted to stare at them this entire time and that feeling I've been getting... well, that's me getting turned on. I mean, I think I like Emily. I don't know if this is me, Bryan, regular guy talking, or Ellie's body talking, but whatever it is, I can't ignore.

So suddenly I'm all nervous and wondering whether she can tell and I'm just like "Yeah, let's hang out Saturday night it'll be so fun" and I just want to stop looking but I can't bring myself to and she doesn't even notice. She finished putting her gym shirt on and walks away and I just stand there catching my breath like I've just finished a marathon, like, holy crap.

I guess I just didn't realize it before, but I really am back in high school, and I don't feel like I'm 24 anymore. I feel like a 14-year-old too intimidated to go after something she wants... especially since I came to the (embarrassing yet relieving) conclusion that what I want is girls! Specifically, this girl, who has been my best friend for months! Oh God how embarrassing.

Well I couldn't bring myself to cancel. I showed up at her place around 8:30 and it seemed like she was alone. We hung out in room for a while watching movies, trying to get my mind off how much I want her. Eventually I get up to go to the washroom down the hall.

On my way back I passed an open bedroom - her brother's. I wasn't paying much mind but as I walked by something caught my eye... his guitar. I haven't played in months, since before I was Ellie. It was a nice red Epiphone, a fairly decent quality not unlike what I used to play. I just stood there in the doorway staring at it when I heard footsteps behind me. A deep voice said, "Can I help you?"

I turned and saw him towering over me. Her brother, Dennis. He's maybe 6' or more. I stammered, "Uh, I'm just looking at your guitar." I felt like a dwarf or something.

"Oh yeah, you like it? I got it for Christmas. I wanted the Les Paul but this one's good too."

I blurted out, "I had a Les Paul..." then I realized Ellie probably doesn't know crap about guitars so I corrected myself, "I mean, I had an uncle who had one. But he sold it. I used to play it a bit."

"Oh yeah?" he goes and sits down on his bed and turns on his amp. "You any good?"

I shrug nervously. In actuality I'm excellent but I keep forgetting who I look like. He starts playing the opening to Stairway to Heaven, and messes up a couple times, but he sounds like he's got it well practiced. I figure maybe he's maybe had a year or two of lessons and practice. I can't resist showing off - I sit next to him and he passes it over, and I start trying to do Santeria (by Sublime) but Ellie's fingers are a little clumsier than mine so I fumbled a lot.

I laughed, "I'm really out of practice, sorry."

He smiled, "No, that was good. What's your name again?"

It took me a moment "El...lie."

At this point, Emily is watching us from the doorway, probably none to impressed. We go back to her room.

She asks me, "Was my brother hitting on you?" I tell her no, not really (although I'm positive he was,) he was just showing me his guitar. She sighs and says "He's such a loser" and I say, "He seems like a cool guy."

She glares at me a little bit, before finally asking, "Do you... like him?"

I think I started blushing at this point. "What? No, God no..." I'm all flustered. "I mean, he's not my type he's... I don't even like..." I can't finish my statement until I find the words, "...he's old?" He's only 17. It's not unheard of to date that kind of distance, but sounds like a good enough excuse.

"Okay, yeah. Good. I dunno, that just seems kinda weird, if you did. I mean, he's my brother."

"Yeah, totally." The movie was over.

She lays back on her bed, takes a deep breath and says "Hey Ellie...... can you imagine yourself having sex?"

Now I'm even more shocked and embarrassed. Suddenly a mental imagine of a guy - Dennis - standing naked in front of me is in my mind and I'm trying to figure it all out. "Uh, no... not really."

"Me neither. Kinda. Maybe someday with Mike, I just don't... I dunno."

"Well, we're kinda young."

"I hear him and his friends talking about sex all the time. Why are they so into it?"

Since I kinda know the answer, I try to phrase it in a way a girl that age might know. "Um, well you know... I hear that like, most guys start getting boners when they're like 12."

"Ew, don't say that word."

"What, boners? Boners?" I laugh, and she seems disgusted but also on the verge of laughter. "Boners!" I start singing. "Emily loves boners, each and every day...!"

"Don't be gross!" She tosses a pillow at me. "I mean seriously... what do you think they're... like? Have you ever seen one?"

I shrug. Then there's a pause and I said something kinda stupid. "...I think I was a guy in a past life."

She laughs, "I can totally see that. Ellie, don't take this the wrong way, but I think you are a guy."

I rested my head on the edge of her bed and muttered quietly, kinda sadly, "That... would be awesome."

She bounced on the bed and laughed, "Dude, don't be weird. If you were a guy we couldn't be friends. I just don't think guys and girls can be friends, you know? They'd always be thinking about having sex. What's the most you've ever done with a boy?"

I shrugged, "I haven't ever, uh, kissed one."

"Tammy West said you and Brian Maynard used to go out in eighth grade."

I paused. More of Ellie's past I didn't know. "We didn't, uh... do anything."

"How far would you go with a boy? If you were me, how far would you go with Mike?"

"I dunno. First base?"

"What's first base?"

"It's, uh... like, kissing. Just kissing. Why, what have you done?"

"He's touched my boob a couple times," she made an uncomfortable face, "It kinda hurt."

I smiled. "Boys don't know anything about boobs. They just wanna touch 'em."

"Hell yeah!" she laughed. Then we slapped each other five.

Dennis appeared in the doorway. "Hey, uh, I'm going out to a party. Might not be home tonight. Don't tell mom, 'kay?"

"Ellie loves you," Emily blurted out laughing. I turned away and shouted, "No!" I don't know how seriously he took it... he just kinda left without saying anything.

We talked for a few more hours before going to sleep. I was thinking we were gonna do head-to-toe, but she said she didn't want my feet in her face, so we slept beside each other. The smell of her hair drove me crazy. I was kind of in a daze for the next couple days. So much of a daze that back at school later that week, I ran into Dennis and didn't even notice. Just walked by him on my way to gym...

"Hey wait Ellie!"

I turned around, felt worried. "Yeah?"

"Listen, I know you're into guitars and stuff, and I know you're friends with my sister, but, like, if you ever wanted to come over? Like if she's not around and you just want to chill with me and just jam... I've got an old acoustic in my basement, if you don't mind playing that."

My mind starts to drift. I started to think how weird it would be to just be near a guy without Emily being around, especially her brother. Then I think aobut how embarrassed I was at my display, and how long it's been since I played guitar regularly and how much I miss it, even if Ellie's little fingers can't quite do what I used to. I must've just stood there for like 30 seconds until I finally snapped out of it and ran off blurting, "Um I dunno maybe? I'll talk to you later, I got class, bye..." and just bolted.

I've kinda been avoiding thinking about it all week. I'm just really uncomfortable. Talking about it helps, but I think I'm gonna have to do something eventually...... right? God I feel gross.

Whatever.

Todd/Anne-Marie: My funny family...

Between interesting things going on around here, I have to amuse myself. I can only spend so much of the day vacuuming and folding laundry and other mom chores. Unfortunately, I find myself staying in character as Anne-Marie more and more until something weird hapens that snaps me out of it. Today, it was reading advice columns about Valentine's Day.

As you might expect, I had totally forgotten it was coming up, and nearly had a panic attack until I realized I'm the woman now and it's not really my responsibility. Hell, all I have to do is get naked and mince around a little and Hal will be putty in my hands.

.......not that I want that per se. I'm just saying, from this perspective it's easy to please someone else. I don't know whether Hal actually intends to do anything about it, and I wouldn't mind much if he didn't. What do I need to be fawned over? All he'd be doing is buttering me up for sex anyway. Still, I'd be impressed with a card, and I don't think a rose or two would hurt. It'd be good practise for when his real wife comes back.

(By the way, Bryan, I know you were kidding, but I was hardly "basking in the afterglow of my sexual awakening." When you write stuff like that it's hard to convince people you don't secretly try to write well.)

Anyway, all this is just my roundabout way of thinking about how complicated life is, and how many connections I've got with other people now that I clearly wouldn't have had before. It's like I've gone from being a loner with a few friends and a distant family to, well... part of a unit. Look at what I've got:

Hal & The Kids. Hal can be a huge pain in the ass, stubborn, even obnoxious guy... But we all can, really and but he's not hard to get along with as long as you are willing to play along with the idea that he's the guy in charge. I do follow his lead a lot... he doesn't know that his wife's life has been turned upside down, and all the little things I screw up - peoples' names, recipes Anne-Marie used to be able to do, even the whole "not really being that into sex" thing, he's taken in stride. He has shown me - and vicariously his wife - a great deal of support without being able to understand what she's going through. I don't mind taking care of the Adkissons. They've grown on me, and taught me, I dunno, responsibility, I guess. They can be damanding, but it gives my life kind of a... purpose, for now. Hayley, Anne-Marie's daughter, has grown a little distant, and I feel bad about that. Maybe I've been neglecting her, or maybe she just needs to pull away as she grows up (apparently her 13th birthday is in March. Yikes.) And it's hard, since despite my months of experience as a woman, I don't really know what it's like to be a girl. But I'm trying to fix that. Connor, meanwhile, really seems to like his mom (or maybe just me?) and he's a nice kid. I've been reading with him before bedtime lately. Maybe it sounds corny, but this is the kinda childhood I never had and didn't realize I might've liked. I think I might actually be a pretty okay mom. Half the time, anyway.

Bryan... also known as Ellie. My little niece who has been one of my best friends since grade school. we got put into this weird situation and it's changed the way we relate. Sometimes I have a hard time looking at him, with his girlish face and twinkling eyes, and remembering exactly who is beneath that exterior. And then he speaks, and I remember, it's pure Bryan. Having him to lean on in this time has really helped things for me. to know that I don't have to be Anne-Marie all the time. Things aren't exactly as they used to be... I'm hoping they'll change back when we do, but... well, I'm just thankful for his presence. He's going through a lot right now (hormones, as one astute commenter noted, are clearly part of it.) He's got a lot of parental friction, and some none-too-surprising social anxiety. He'd hate me telling the world this, but I've seen him at his most vulnerable. I just hope he knows I'm there for him.

"Julia" and "Kalli." The real Anne-Marie and Ellie. It's gotten to the point where Hal knows that Julia and I know each other and might not think it so weird that we gal-pal around a bit. At first, I had this assumption, based mostly on her letter and the facts of her life, that Anne-Marie was some tightly-wound frigid soccer mom. But seeing her walking around in Julia's body, I've seen her as a really cool, fun, warm person who deserves her life back. It's weird though. She looks 21, and seems to think, act and talk 21, too. I don't know if she always did, but I just wonder what this experience has done for her. But she's keeping Kalli safe, and trying not to let her grow up too fast (although she can't help herself from sneaking some wine now and again.)

Now, the problem is that Anne-Marie professes to want to go back to Maine, expresses a real desire to get back her life, but trying to make arrangements is like pulling teeth. She's got this idea that Hal might think something is up with the both of us going to the same place within weeks and not coming back for so long. I understand her concern (after all, something is up, which we couldn't explain to him if we tried,) but how else does she expect it to be done? And she's on about money. She doesn't make a lot from Hal, and has to keep both her and Kalli in their low-rent apartment (Ellie contributes what she can, which given her youthful inexperience, isn't much.)

So I went ahead and made the arrangements in her name, because she needs the same room as me, otherwise this entire scheme is for nothing, and some random just walks into her life (not to mention Ellie's...) Which brings me to...

Deb and Amanda, the current Todd and Bryan. Every time I get nervous that something is going to go wrong with this plot, I e-mail this very detail-minded lady in my body and she reminds me that everything is under control and going according to plan.

There are times when I wonder what things are like for those two. I take for granted that everything about being a woman is wrong, and that I'd rather go back to being a man. But for someone who grew up as a woman and is now a man, would the same hold true? Do they yearn to get back to bras and tampax? Are they eager to spend hours browsing the boutiques and hauling purses? I keep getting this awful feeling in the pit of my gut that manhood is inherently superior/preferable, and that they'd probably just want to keep my body, but Deb seems so sincere... you should hear her go on about the man who should be her husband.

In any case, it just puts me in mind of how much I need to put things right with Alia. I don't want to lose her and I don't know how good a job Deb might be doing of keeping her interested. I want to tell her, "We all make sacrifices, I just banged Anne-Marie's husband, can't you do me the same courtesy?" But no. Anne-Marie never made me do it, and I can't make Deb have feelings for Alia.

The extended family... I mean, consider the real Julia and Kalli. I haven't heard anything about them, and have no idea if Anne-Marie is trying to give them back their lives. Then there's the new Deb and Amanda. The way Deb talks it seems like everything is a go with them, but what is there's a foul-up there? Are they getting their bodies back, or did Deb convince them to roll the dice? We are attempting a chain of no fewer than three physical transitions here. I can't believe I'm just talking about it like I'm planning a vacation. There is so much potential for disaster it is terrifying and makes me want to follow Donna's advice and stay home. But no. It would take a thousand Donnas to keep me from going back to Maine this Summer.

Speaking of whom... in our funny little family, Donna is like the crazy aunt nobody wants anything to do with, but is part of the family portrait nonetheless. I can't ignore her, as much as I want her to go away and leave me be. Those things she said really stuck with me, and now I just want to know who she was, and what happened that made her feel this way. It's going to take some coaxing. Everytime I try to engage her on the topic, she gets pretty evasive.

Art, Ashlyn, Darren, Kat, Brandon, Jessica, Marie... all the rest. Let's face it. We all share a secret that is bigger than life itself. We have nobody to support us but each other (with all due respect to the wonderful readers of this blog who sit patiently through my ramblings like this.) We've shared an experience that is so difficult to communicate or even understand. Whether you have gotten your life back, are still trying to, or have made yourself comfortable in your new one... we are all kin, and we should all share that understanding. I mean, think about how many people go to that Inn every year There must be so many of us floating around, waiting to have their stories told.

It's overwhelming. We're such a big, funny family.

-Todd/Anne-Marie

Bryan/Ellie: No frills

I don't write here much because obviously Todd is the writer between the two of us. I try sometimes, when I can't sleep, I'll open up my laptop and log in and start trying to talk about life and stuff, and then I just hate what I come up with and delete it. It's not even really anything anyone would be interested, more about being in school than being Ellie. Todd's posts are more interesting, my life is boring. Ellie's life is boring. Whoever's life it is.

But I've been having a shitty day so I thought I'd at least try.

There's this supermarket in Canada - No Frills. It's a discount place, where poor people and cheap people buy discount no name stuff. It's where we did most of our shopping in Toronto and I both hated and loved it. The prices were low enough that you could get some good mileage out of your dollar (when you were a broke ass like me) but the atmosphere was... well, it was no frills. Like shopping in a warehouse - brightly lit one with yellow signs everywhere. It hurt my head. And the aisles were about a cart and a half wide so if you saw some soccer mom or old lady coming the opposite direction it would be a tight squeeze. Anyway though, that was my life and I liked it - no frills. Crappy apartment, cheap groceries, dirty clothes. Did all my shopping at Valu Village, where old people sell their clothes so they can be re-sold to hipsters. A good place for old t-shirts, frayed jeans, corduroys, jackets, plaid shirts, the kinda stuff I loved wearing. My life lately has been the opposite.

Day in day out I have to wear the private school uniform - white blouse, plaid skirt. Ridiculously short plaid skirt. I don't even get it - is the principal (or whoever makes these decisions) trying to drive the teenage boys crazy? I went to a public high school just at the dawn of the thong craze. When a girl wanted to dress slutty, it was by choice.

But that, I can handle. Not having to make decisions about my clothes is fine by me. And I'd be cool wearing granny panties all the time too, if Ellie had any, but no such luck. This is where I weed out the pervs, talking about a 14-year-old's panties. Most of them are too fancy for my care and it's not like anyone's ever gonna see them. But laundry gets down and I've gotta go through em all.

My friend Emily has been trying to get me to dress up more on the weekends. I usually favour like, a hoodie and jeans. Basic stuff. A few months ago I ran up a big tab on Trudy's credit card at Snorg Tees so I could have some clothes I liked wearing. She was annoyed but allowed it. Trudy's a champ like that, except when she's being bitchy, which is just about always. What a bitch.

Emily is starting to get really cozy with this guy, Mike, and it's pissing me off. I'd explain this to her but then I'd have to come up with a reason why. My first theory is that he's just a dick and I don't like him. He's a teenage boy trying to bang my friend. But then I thought - so what? I was a teenage boy once and I tried to bang plenty of girls. I can't blame him for that. Then I thought, he's coming between me and my only real friend. It isn't that Emily's the only friend I've got... I've made some progress with Ellie's old pals. I just prefer Emily because she didn't know Ellie (which is probably gonna suck for her once I'm gone.) So yeah, that must be it, right? Because she's spending all her time with him and we never hang out at lunch. Except actually, she keeps inviting me over for dinners and movie nights and sleepovers, and when we cancel, I'm the one who is pulling out. So if anything, she's being the good friend! And I suck!

Todd was no help either. "Aunt Annie" was basking in the afterglow of her sexual awakening when we talked about it, and she suggested I actually liked Mike. And I'm just like "dude, don't even go there." I really don't think that's the case.

I mean, okay, I did kinda cheer her on when it came to the whole Hal thing. But I mean, come on, she was sleeping in the same bed as him, and Anne Marie's been around the block. I go to school with about a thousand gross teenage boys. I don't give any of them a single look.

So I came home late, frustrated, and hungry, and Trudy won't let me have a snack because dinner's on the way. So I got up to my room and got caught up in this flame war on a forum about whether the new Springsteen album sucks (it doesn't,) and whether the new season of Lost is any good (it is.) And dinner's still not ready and the cat won't leave me alone and my tits are driving me crazy and I just spent about 15 minutes beating the shit out of Ellie's stuffed animals, pillows and mattress and crying my fucking eyes out. And Trudy didn't come up to ask what was wrong, and I don't want her to, but I think it's shitty that she didn't.

So yeah. There it all is. Life sucks.

I dunno man. Maybe you'll hear from me again later? Peace.
-Bry/El

Todd/Anne-Marie: Meet Donna.

It's been a while since my last post. I guess having sex and meeting Donna within the same weekend really threw me off and put me in a weird state of mind about how much I should be saying on this blog.

Not that I don't enjoy being open and honest with whoever is out there reading this - and really, thanks for your support and understanding, but really... when I tried to put into words the whole sex thing, the man-part of my brain (which I like to think is still over 50%) put down a block and told me "No, it is not okay to admit you enjoyed this." After all, if I did, that's a notch in the "don't go back" column, which is admittedly bare. The only points there are "slightly inconvenient" and "possibility of failure." I don't get such a rush out of seeing Hal naked that I think it warrants that kind of analysis. Actually... the first time we did it, it was a little hard for me to keep from laughing.

But I'm not putting it down. It feels pretty good, and I can even see how some women could really enjoy it (I should hope that most women enjoy it more than I have.) I can stomach it. It's a bit like exercise... at first you feel averse to it, then it becomes a welcome part of the routine. But as you can probably tell, I never loved exercise. And this, I can go without.

Ugh, see what I mean? I've just typed all that and I feel so exposed. It's been like 2 weeks and I still don't feel like I can really form a coherent sentence on it. Forget it. What I really want to talk about is Donna.

She had just told me she had been to the Inn once before and it stopped me in my tracks. She led me back into her kitchen, and she served me a cup of tea. I felt something inside me frozen.

According to what I've read, and my experience certainly agrees with this, some kind of magic prevents people from (immediately) drawing the conclusion that you've been magically turned into someone else. This could very well be called common sense, because if you haven't seen such magic in action, there wouldn't be any reason to assume it existed, but there's probably more to it than that. Trying to decipher the notes Anne-Marie and Ellie left before becoming them gave us a headache, but when we woke up in their bodies, well, it became quite clear. So I guess the best way to understand is that seeing is believing... but it's still not that simple.

I looked at Donna, and for all her odd qualities I didn't sense anything supernatural about her. I surmised she must have been a woman, and visited the inn so long ago that she was Donna long enough that Donna became her natural state. But nothing inside of me believed she could ever not have been Donna.

There was a long lull in the conversation around this fact. The reverse, it seemed, has also been true. Yes, it had been a long while since she'd been to Maine, but she could hardly forget what that Inn did. We both just kind of sat, silently sipping, waiting for the conversation to begin itself. I started, by asking a dumb question that was not the most pressing.

"So when did you figure it out? About me?"

She sighed. "In a way, I knew before Anne-Marie did. She was visiting me one day, explaining about this trip she was planning, when she showed me the photographs she'd gotten of the Inn. I recognized it immediately. I wanted to grab her and shake her, and scream 'Don't go, find someplace else to stay!' but she was so enthusiastic about this place. So I rationalized it to myself... oh, it's been so long, maybe the curse is broken and it doesn't do that anymore. After all, it's not like this kind of thing turns up on the news as often as you'd expect."

I thought for a moment about a headline - 12-year-old girl breaks into Manhattan Loft claiming to be high powered executive, institutionalized.

"Then you came back and nothing seemed off about you. I mean seriously. I feel so stupid for not seeing it sooner. I thought either the Inn was fixed, or maybe she stayed at a different place after all, or something."

"And the fact that it took nearly a month for her to come back from the trip?"

"Just didn't register with me, I suppose. Well, then you started avoiding me and being very guarded and I thought, what could possibly be wrong? I knew you and Hal had been having some troubles, but that had nothing to do with me. And slowly, slowly I became more convinced. When you fixed the TV - my Goodness, Anne-Marie couldn't turn the damn thing on half the time - that was the moment. I just knew it right then. And I don't mean to bring up any... awkward emotions or anything, but I just had to ask you. I had to know. And I knew that that the only way to convince you was to tell you I'd been there myself. So what do you think?"

I felt stone-cold. "I don't know what to think. I have a lot of questions."

"Like what?"

"Is there anyone else around here? Like us?" Other than the people I already knew about.

"Not to my knowledge. When I was... changed... I - Donna - was in high school, and all the other girls at the Inn were on her debate team. But we all grew up and spread out. I lost touch with all of them."

I hinted that I wanted to ask who she'd been before.

"Anne Marie," she said. I glared at her - she was calling me by what she knew was not my name, "If it's okay, there is a lot of stuff I'd rather not re-live. I've spent a lot of time building and enjoying my life here."

"Well," I shrugged, "Everybody's got a story, don't they?"

She smiled modestly, "My story wouldn't interest you, I don't think. And you don't have to tell me yours, if you don't want to. I mean, the sooner you let go, the easier it is."

I glared at her. "Uh, what?"

"Well, I mean, in the long run, it doesn't really matter who you were. If you were old or young, black or white." She didn't say 'male or female' but I sensed she meant to, "You're here now, and if you let go of whatever you used to be, you'll be able to appreciate what you have been given."

I started to get hot under the collar. "Uh, I don't really want what I've been given. I don't belong here. As soon as it's possible, I'm going back to Maine and I'm getting my life back."

She seemed shocked. "You can't do that!"

"It's been done."

"I just mean you shouldn't. I don't know who you are, who you were, but you seem like an honest person, and I think Hal and the kids are in good hands with you. You've got a lot of responsibility on your shoulders and you can't just hand it away."

"I didn't ask for this!" I was practically screaming.

"Nobody asks for anything in this life! And everything we do ask for, we don't get. We get what we get, and it's our job to deal with that. That's a lesson I've had 25 long years to learn."

I just shook my head. "I'm going back. I'm giving Anne-Marie her life, her family back."

"They're not hers anymore, wherever she is."

I wanted to tell her she was close by, and that she wanted them back very dearly. Instead, I just stood up.

"I'm going to Maine in June," I asserted.

"What exactly do you think you're going back to?" she asked.

I didn't want to answer that. I just stared at her. Then she said something really unexpected.

"I'm sorry." Talk about a shocking statement. "I stepped over the line. I just think it's a... bad idea."

"Not any worse than going there in the first place."

"That was different. I'm assuming you didn't know what was going to happen. I sure didn't. But look at me. It's been 20 years and I... am so much happier than I ever was before."

"You're telling me that within a year of going to that inn, you wouldn't have gone back if you knew you could get your body back?"

"Things were different back then. People didn't communicate the way they do now. We didn't have e-mail or text messaging... if somebody took your body, it would be no easy feat to get it back."

"Not easy... but not impossible."

"I wouldn't have gone back, no."

I paused for a moment. "I guess you just really didn't have anything to go back to. But that's where we're different."

That's when I turned and left. Things are tense, but I think she's eager to maintain lines of communication with me because of what I know about her. I don't know why she's trying to keep me from going back, but she won't succeed. I still haven't learned who she used to be, but I get the feeling that I wouldn't have liked that person very much, either.

That's all for now.
-Todd/Anne-Marie

Todd/Anne-Marie: I had to get around to it eventually.

Yes, Hal and I did it on Saturday night.

In a way, it's a load off my mind, because now I know what it's like, but I've spent a lot of the time since in a daze trying to sort out my opinions on the matter, as well as some very strange news that has overshadowed it (yes I know, shocking though it is, there's something more pressing than sex.)

But sex is what you've come for so I might as well clear that topic up.

The kids were at their Aunt & Uncle's place (The McClay's, Ellie's house,) so Hal and I could have a romantic evening that was more awkward for me than anything and made me want to go through with it less than ever. But after the main course, (a veal dish I whipped up - I'm getting half-decent at this cooking thing) we sat drinking wine for a little while. I was aiming to get drunk past the point of consolation, so that I'd be more amiable to the situation, but it was to Hal's credit that he didn't immediately whip it out and take me by force. He was willing to wait, and that was something I really... appreciated. Lord knows I kept him on the line long enough, finding some reason to put it off longer and longer.

Over drinks, we got to talking, Hal and I. He's a decent guy, sorta complicated and sorta not. If I were really his wife, I'd probably see him as closed off, but I know where that type of behaviour comes from and I don't begrudge him it. So I coaxed him into letting his guard down and before long we were more straightforward with each other than we had been ever before - as much as we could be with me completely lying about my identity - and I voiced some of the feelings Anne-Marie had expressed to me about her husband, saying I know it's been a tough time and thank you for being such a strong provider and all that stuff. It was a good performance. And then eventually, three and a half glasses of wine deep apiece, he stood up, and took me by the hand, and... well, no more words.

God, this is embarrassing. I'm at a loss for words (a rare condition for me.) As a guy, I bragged about sex all the time, but now I just feel really... I don't know, vulnerable? Exposed? Is that too girly to admit to? Changing your role in sex, I just realized, consists of more than a sensory experience, it's a whole new goddamn discourse. I should've read Foucault when I had the chance.

For a grown man becoming a woman in this scenario, there comes a time... however many weeks or months it might take... when you just can't deny yourself anymore. Especially when your back's against the wall like mine's been. I think Art and Ashlyn might back me up on that (but to each their own.) On the night before, I got to thinking about my life as Anne-Marie, and everything I've been through. Beyond the initial fear and confusion and loss of self-identity. I've been through the cycles, the soreness of this body, the exhaustion at things I used to be able to do no problem, the different tastes, the family dinners, the laundry, the unusual desires, the body odours, retaining water, dressing myself in a woman's clothes, sleeping in bed with someone's husband, lying to everybody in the world (except two,) and all that other minute shit that has worn me down over the past six months... I thought about it all and just fucking broke down and thought, goddamnit, I need something I can enjoy. It's not so much about sexual pleasure, I'm saying, as much as it's about something safe. Something I can just enjoy.

So with all that in mind, I felt I owed it to myself more than anything else to at least try to enjoy this part of it. Because for the next six months, it's about all I've got.

So we went up to the bedroom, and got warmed up pretty fast. I guess the thing about marital sex that's different from premarital sex (of which I know a great deal more) is that it's all fairly routine. He didn't feel the need to try anything that I would've deemed unusual. In fact, there was a great deal more he could've done that I always tired to do, but again, that's from the perspective of a 24-year-old unmarried guy. So basically after some light fondling and such to get him primed, we just... got to it.

I'll note, as a matter of record, that I was considering dolling up a bit more for the occasion. I would've known where to begin, but Anne-Marie has a small collection of sexy lingerie. I used to date a girl who was really into corsets and leggings and all that stuff, but she was kinda chubby and it hurt the effect a little bit, to see her all jammed into it. Anne-Marie is no spring chicken, this body has given birth to two kids and seen better days. I looked at that stuff, and it brought back those memories, and I thought better of it. I was just wearing a black bra and panties, and not for long: I stripped them off and slipped into bed next to him.

The whole affair lasted maybe 10 minutes, and at the end, he held me a while before falling asleep. The whole time I was just... outside my own body. I felt this thing slipping into me, and it was like "Woah, not ready for this, but here we go!" It's also very strange to find you don't mind a hefty-ish, hairy-ish man grunting and gyrating on top of your body in certain situations. Since I wasn't really "warmed up," there was a very unpleasant friction at first, but as we got into the groove, his member started finding the right spots and I was starting to enjoy the rhythm before... whoop. Thanks for playing.

I know this is gonna sound weird, but it's the holding that made me more uncomfortable than anything else we did. I would rather have kept it less intimate than that. I could feel his heart beat and suddenly I was aware that this man thought he as in love with me. Oh, shit.

I'm at a loss for words to describe the actual feeling. It was... nice, and I get the sense it could've been a lot better. I'm disappointed it didn't turn out better, but I'm not alarmed I liked it as much as I did. I don't know what I was expecting. But when I finally did get to sleep, I slept like a log, and felt better the next morning than I have since transforming, or in fact a while before.

But if it's not one thing it's another...

I was called over the next morning to help Donna, Anne-Marie's oddly irksome friend, with her new HDTV. Having seen my prowess at the cocktail party, she enlisted my help fixing some wiring.

Donna, I'd decided over the last few months, is an odd bird. She's in her 40's, has a son in University and a daughter in the last year of high school. She's fairly well-preserved, and has a good deal of exercise equipment around her house, as well as beauty supplies. Her husband is some communications bigwig and works 4 days a week in the city, and often goes on business trips, so she's along in the house a fair bit. I got the feeling this was why she was so cloying for Anne-Marie's friendship.

"I'll put a cup of tea on," she insisted when I arrived. She'd asked me to come over around 11 on Sunday, and when she answered the door, she was wearing a lace nightie under a robe very loosely cinched so that when she opened the door and a gust of winter wind blew, her cleavage stared me right in the eye. I averted my eyes awkwardly.

"That's okay," I said, stepping out of my boots, "I won't be long."

"Oh come on now," she teased, "There's nobody else here, I need someone to talk to. We go so long without seeing one another these days."

Nobody else here? Then what in God's name was the nightie for?

After putting on a kettle, she went upstairs and was caught in a lie when I heard her daughter yelp, "Ew, mom! How about putting on some clothes sometimes? God!" I laughed and got to work on the TV set. I made short work of it, since the only problem was a wrongly-inserted AV cable.

"Oh, I'm so glad," Donna said when she came downstairs, more reasonable dressed in a sweater and khakis, "My husband is just as bad at this stuff as I am and he's too proud to ask for help. You know men."

"That I do," I huffed. Let me go, lady, I thought as I stepped toward the door.

"Oh by the way, I borrowed something from you," she rifled around the kitchen as I stood in the doorway. "Hal lent them to me when we were at your place last month, and I haven't had a chance to give them back. I was just so interested in looking at them."

Anne-Marie's photos from the Maine trip. They'd been on the digital camera when I was transformed. I gave her a very suspicious look and said thanks for returning them.

"She's growing up so fast, your niece," Donna smiled politely, "She looks so petite there, but I saw her at the party too, and she's becoming quite a young lady." Well, that was the truth - Bryan's transformation has really been ongoing.

"And the inn where you stayed, well, it looks so cozy," she noted. Now I was started to get seriously weirded out.

"It wasn't as good as it looks," I sneered. Hand on the doorknob.

Her glance turned away momentarily. "Well, in any case, they've hardly re-decorated at all since the last time I was there."

I froze, barely able to breathlessly form the words "Excuse me?"

She looked me dead in the eye, her lips cracking into an evil grin, "Oh you know. It's just been so long since I was there I can hardly remember it, but it does bring back memories."

The teakettle whistled.

"Are you sure you wouldn't like to stay a while?"

Like I said, stuff just keeps coming up. I'll have to get back to this later.

-Todd/Anne-Marie

Todd/Anne-Marie: To quote a fellow Canuck...

Man, I feel like a woman.

Hal had his procedure last Monday. He spent most of the next week hobbling around with an icepack on his groin, and then things got busy, so we haven't, erm... gone ahead with the, uh, project. So basically, I spent all week living in prolonged anxiety, and being worked like a slave girl. I'd grown really accustomed to having my space during the day that it became kind of a neat situation where I could just wander around and forget what I look like, even when I can't forget what I look like. But with Hal calling for Anne-Marie to get lunch and run errands, I feel more like a wife than I have since I first came to this place. And just think... this dude expects me to do stuff with him.

It was kinda pathetic, and personally, I think he's milking it. I mean, yeah, I remember what it was like to have balls, and if some dude had been up in there with a scalpel, then maybe it would lay you up for a little while, but... well, the distance he took it was a bit much, is all. I sympathize and all, but no need to overdo it.

So this week, he's back at work, and he's gonna do a second test to determine the absence of sperm, and then, if all goes as "planned" (note sarcastic finger-quotes) Saturday night is the night. The kids will be at Aunt Trudy's place, and we'll have a... nice evening.... together.

I can't turn off the part of me that thinks this is wrong. That if I don't want to do this, I shouldn't feel obligated to. It's Anne-Marie he loves, he wants, and I'm not her. But am I gonna look him in the eye and say "Go mess around with your secretary, she wants it more"? This is the most altruistic thing I've ever done. What's worse is... I can't turn off the part of me that does want it, either.

I know, I know, it's not that I'm interested in getting it on with Hal, or any guy, but... has anyone ever read Greek mythology? Or T.S. Eliot's the Wasteland? (I'm a dropout but a well-read one.) I feel like Tiresias, and if what he had to say has any bearing, well... I've gotta know.

I'm just terrified of how good it might actually be. (This blog itself is loaded with mixed reviews.) Bry's no help either. I was having lunch with her on one of our "girls' days out" last weekend, where we get hot chocolate and pretend to shop (which I'm sorry to say actually results in a good deal of real shopping.) She kept chirping me about it. "Dude, you've gotta try it!" she said with this little-girl verve she's inherited from Ellie. I guess she realizes since she's gonna be a guy again soon (fingers crossed!) and she's so young she's not going to be the one to experience this for herself, so why not me? Yeah, easy for her to say.

I have to admit, I could do worse. He's got kind of a chubby George Clooney thing going on, if you squint. And he's kinda funny? Man, I am really stretching to justify this to myself.

I mentioned the trip. Yes, it's all booked, at least for four of the six of us. Amanda and Deb got their slot in late Early June, which hopefully puts me and Bry there after he gets done school. "Julia" and "Kalli" have yet to confirm. I'm worried that it's about money for them... I wish I could just dig into Anne's purse and give it to them, but Hal was already reluctant to let me go for what promised to be yet another month-long sojourn in Maine, part of which would be incommunicado. Erm... yeah.

Look, I just want to get out of this skin. I want to go home and I don't want to look at much less feel another man's junk any more than I had to.

Tired of playing housewife, and six months to go.

-Todd/AM

Arthury/Penny: New Year, New...

I didn't know Lyn very well back in her former life - we were internet buddies, and our conversation didn't stray very far from the topics of the fora where we met - but I suspect that Jake wasn't very much of a party person. Now, Lyn's a total party girl, but give her credit - as much as she likes going out, flirting, and getting wasted, she still has enough of Jake's interest in how things work and maybe a little ambition left, so she has also figured out how to throw a good party.

This is a skill. I know, because I've tried to do it in the past, and no matter what body I was wearing, it was a disaster. I was stressed, the room frequently went dead silent, and it took me days to clean up. Lyn, on the other hand, knows where to find absolutely everything she needs, can set up a five-hour-long playlist ahead of time, knows just when to disappear into the kitchen to bring out some more snacks, and balances the invitation list so that everybody has someone to talk to all night, even if people decline. I strongly suspect she had the apartment cleaned up within an hour of people heading home.

Me, I'm not much of a party girl. Even if I'm a bit more comfortable in my skin now, "party" meant "networking" meant "work" while I was with Rick, and who wants that? Plus, as much as I enjoy being tall and fit and all, it means decent party wear is expensive, and if the party with just the right sort of girl I despise, I get ragged on for basically cycling through the same few outfits. Or they'll find some way to rip into me no matter what I do for footwear - I'll be too tall, or déclassé, or something. Besides, parties happen at the time sports is going on, and I'm busy writing and revising game stories.

I got New Year's Eve off, at least, so I headed to Lyn's. She met me at the door, took my coat, and had just enough time to make sure I had a beer and chat with me for a few minutes before slipping away to handle something, but when she did she made sure I was deposited among some pleasant company.

The big surprise of the night was when Liz and Ray showed up. I'd only seen them once since getting to town as Penny, and they don't know who I am. Lyn tells me that even though Liz had said she'd wanted to talk, she hadn't made a regular thing of it, just dropping back into her old life like nothing had happened, although she did more or less cut off contact with Lyn. Curious, I eventually made my way to that sector of the party, drifting into a conversation about something or other. I was a bit disappointed but not surprised when they didn't remember me from September. Someone else decided I looked familiar, and I mentioned that sometimes Boston Today let me do an opinion column and ran a picture with it - I think the last one had been about the Yankees signing Teixeira - and that was when Ray remembered that we'd met.

I asked how they knew the hosts and got the response about Liz and Ashlyn having been roommates, although they hadn't talked much lately, and Lyn and Ray had just run into each other Christmas shopping a week or so earlier. Of course, having a couple of drinks in me, I didn't immediately recognize that this meant they would toss the question back at me. Fortunately, Lyn is a party savant and appeared beside me out of thin air, telling an embellished version of the time I came to cover the lacrosse all-star game, where I was uncomfortable in Headlights and she helped keep me loose and we met at the bar later, exchanged cards, and I found hers when I wound back up in Boston.

Liz and Ray may not have recognized me, but someone else did. Just walked up and told me he liked my dress, and the paper should let me use a picture that shows off my legs. I blushed a bit, and came back with the very real problem that if they did, then they'd have to do it with everyone else to show there wasn't a double standard, and brother, you do not want to see more than a headshot of some of these guys. He laughed and said that was fair, and we talked sports for a while.

His name was Chance Owsley, he's the right height to be eye-level, and not unpleasant to look at. He seemed funny and smart and not inappropriately touchy at all, which isn't always a given. I wasn't displeased when he called me a couple days later so much as surprise, since I hadn't given him my number.

I dragged Lyn out for coffee on Saturday to get to the bottom of it, and she shrugged it off. "He asked, I supplied. You looked cute together."

"What makes you think I wanted his number? Don't you think I'd have asked for it?"

"You? Ha! Art would never let Penny have a guy's number."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

"Art-slash-Penny, you know I love you, right? I've been where you are, working for someone and then doing something ambitious on the side, filling up your time too much to have a personal life. The Inn yanked me out of it, and even if the way it happened was shocking, I'm grateful that it did. It just looked to me like you could use a yank, and no-one else was going to do it. Relax, he's an awesome guy - I wouldn't let him near you if he wasn't."

"Maybe I don't want a guy!"

"Why? Have you decided to explore other options without telling me?"

"Maybe I have!"

"Yeah, right. You were with Rick way too long for me to think you don't like guys."

"And that's worked out so well."

"Hey... This is different. It's not someone you're inheriting, or someone who is just convenient. It's someone who is interested in you. Not the person who used to look like you, you. That's wonderful, Art. Even if you've had that as a guy, it's different as a girl. You deserve it."

I don't know that I came away completely convinced, but while trying to find another message on my phone today, I came across his.

What the hell, I don't have any plans for Saturday night.

-Art/Penny

Todd/Anne-Marie: It's a new year...

...guess what my resolution is?

In only a few days, I'll have to make some reservations for the Trading Post. If every who stays there is as desperate to get their body back as I am, there might be a rush. I dread to think what could happen with imperfect planning. And me, I never been very organized. I'd hate to find myself in some other body halfway across the country powerless to get back. Given the choice between being Anne-Marie and rolling the dice... I'd have to play it safe. Your physical identity is nothing to play Russian Roulette with.

Fortunately, I've got an ally, and I don't mean Bryan. I never really talked about it I guess, because it's not really my business (even if it is my life) but the person who wound up in my and Bry's lives aren't exactly... the type of people who would want to be there. And I can't blame them, because as accustomed to our meager lives as we were, and as eager as we are to get back, they're not going to be someone's first choice. So when you consider who's been walking around in my shoes all winter, you'll understand why they'll be as glad to go back as me.

Given the appearance of the Inn, I would expect that most of the visitors are female. Sure, a whole bunch of us guys end up there and that's how you end up with all of us here on the blog staring down their own cleavage all of a sudden and thinking "I've gotta tell people about this!" But the room where Bry and I stayed was booked, along with a couple others, as part of a Bachelorette weekend. The Bride-to-Be was named Deb, she was a 40-something real estate agent from Jacksonville, Florida. She and her maid of honour Amanda (the 27-year-old receptionist at her work) wound up as me and Bryan respectively.

From my talks with Deb, she's a fussy kind of lady, very much a neatness/control freak type, with all due respect (I think she's reading this.) She'd been married once before and was really excited about starting over. Talk about a fresh start. Imagine her horror at being told she was now going to live in a cramped, crappy apartment where the furniture was covered in XBox controllers, clothes and porn. My life was a mess, and she had to clean it up.

She started by getting em a new job, since my income was hardly steady. She got one I wouldn't have been able to do if my life depended on it, baking bread at a bakery in Yorkville. I think Amanda kept doing Bryan's supermarket job. None of this is all that important, but we e-mail on a fairly regular basis. They lead an isolated, insecure life, trying to avoid my numerous sketchy acquaintences. Deb really wants to get back to the man she was supposed to marry (from what I hear, the wedding went on as planned although the new bride is probably none too keen.) And Amanda, I guess, is along for the ride... maybe she really is the female version of Bryan. Anyway, Deb's been really great about making plans, roping the new-her into going back and keeping me posted on things.

My main concern is for how s/he interacts with Alia. I had really hoped to rekindle things, and I think she did too, but... with a grown woman in my body, they're more like, you know... gal pals, which is frankly embarrassing, and probably slightly irksome to Alia given the apparent sexual disinterest there. Deb's reluctance to "dive in" is not all that much like my own.

Anne-Marie begged me to let Hal get the vasectomy. It'll put him out of commission for a few weeks, maybe a month or more, while he recuperates and gets tested to make sure it's taken effect, but... he's going to have some serious goddamn expectations when he gets off the injured list.

It's kind of a catch-22. Anne-Marie had been trying to convince him to go along with it for a year or so, confident she didn't want any more kids. Like many men, he saw it as a threat to his manhood: nobody is keen to get a knife down there. He wasn't deadset against it, but had a lengthy period of hesitation. If I, as Anne-Marie, suddenly tell him not to do it, it's like saying "I want another kid," so there's sex involved. Of course I by no means want that so if I say "Yes, get the vasectomy," it's like saying "Let's just have sex," so again, sex. I used to have to work to get sex as a man, and now I can't escape it. I thought married people just let their private parts go to waste after the kids were born.

Add to that the fact that Anne-Marie's body has been sending me some strong signals, and now that I know what they are, I can't bring myself to ignore them.

So what's a guy to do? He's scheduled the surgery for Monday. I don't know how wild Anne-Marie is about the idea that I might actually have to bang her husband, but I am starting to think she's more enthusiastic than I am. I guess I'll find some way to talk my way out of it. That could work, right?

I feel a bit like I'm on the uphill part of a roller coaster. Full of dread, but worried I might even like finding out what it's like on the way down.

This is... kind of a mess. I can't wait to get back to having regular people problems. This has kinda been a thick entry and I feel like I've just rambled a lot... I've been meaning to write in here more often, but I get distracted, and then things kinda pile up like this.

Oh well...

-Todd/Anne-Marie