Arthur/Penny: Away games

One thing I do miss about my time about CalSports is the travel. Calling lacrosse games, they would send me to wherever the teams played, and though I often didn't get much chance to see the city, there's something nice about leaving the hotel room with the bed unmade, having no excuse not to eat out, and not taking the scenery around you for granted. Boston Today is run on a tight budget, so I generally don't travel with the teams; I just blog while watching them in HD and augment that with whatever comes over the wire. The Red Sox in New York is a special occasion, though, where it's worth it to put me on a plane (the train isn't much of a savings) and have me on-site, visiting enclaves of New York Sox fans, getting interviews with players, and generally giving more in-depth coverage.

Not that I got much time to see New York; Sox-Yankees is intense, especially when it's an epic, season-changing ass-kicking that results in a respected veteran getting kicked to the curb. Still, I told the newly-single Ray that I'd spend some time with him in the City over the weekend. He was excited by the prospect, said he'd leave Boston right after work, and then meet up with me after the game. I told him I'd need an hour or so after the game to get interviews done and stories filed, but he said that was cool, just give him a call.

Then, of course, the game went fifteen innings, featured the debut of a much-heralded young pitcher, had the "Alex Rodriguez, clutch hitter" angle... By the time I got out of the park, it was almost 3am, and I wasn't terribly surprised when Ray's phone went straight to voice mail. I left a message saying that I was going to have to hit the hay, then get back to the ballpark around noon to start coverage for the 4pm game. I joked that at least that wouldn't take us much past eleven at the worst-case scenario, and New York is just getting started then. Then I crash.

I get up around ten o'clock Saturday, have a quick breakfast, and make a few calls while I'm on my way to the Stadium. First is Ray, and I apologize profusely for the previous night, although someone following the Red Sox in recent years shouldn't be surprised. I ask him what his plans for the day are, and he mentions some college friends he's looking to connect with. I say that's cool, and then call Mark.

Ginessa, that is. I guess I'm the only person still posting regularly who hasn't seen her since she settled into her new life even more thoroughly than Lyn has. Still, I figure she would know a good place to get a late dinner that wouldn't rely too much on screwing around with multiple subway lines. She's excited to hear from me, though, especially when she hears I'll have a date. Of course, she also says I should have called her to hang out the night before, even if it was 3am. Anyway, she says she'll talk to Gavin, make sure we've got a reservation someplace nice.

So, another game, another loss and even though I haven't been in Boston quite long enough for the Sox to be my team, I've got to interact with a lot of readers online, and that's a heck of a lot more enjoyable when they're winning rather than losing to New York in spectacular fashion. It only runs three-twenty-eight - positively sprightly for Sox/Yankees - I get out at quarter of nine, and Ray's there to meet me. We hug kind of awkwardly, and the kiss is also kind of weird. It's right out in the open, we don't know what it could lead to, and it's got a whole lot more history to me than it does to him.

We can laugh about how weird it was, though, and take the train into Manhattan. The place is fancy enough that both Ray and I feel under-dressed, but a waiter escorts us to Ginny & Gavin's table.

Ginny is - well, she's a supernova. I don't think she's had surgery or anything, but her boobs and butt seem fuller than when I last saw her in Maine, when I'd just become Liz and we were scattering to the four winds. That may just be because she's dressing to accentuate her curves rather than trying to hide them under a baggy football jersey. She wears some expensive jewelry, too, which not many of us other boys-become-girls do (I wore tiny studs in my ears as Liz because I didn't want them to close up before I gave her her form back, and a little more now since I got in the habit from appearing on TV out west, but nothing big). She greets us warmly, saying she thinks its so cool that I'm writing about sports and she's heard so much about Ray, before backtracking and saying she hasn't really heard that much - just for a few months, and "Penny's been discrete, of course!"

Gavin was exactly what I should have expected, but didn't, really. He's got to be twice Ginessa's apparent age, older than Mark would be if he'd never gone to the Inn. He's thinning up top, wears glasses, and if someone asked me to estimate the likelihood of his being gay without showing me Ginny, it would be right around the fifty-percent area. He's nice, though - picks up the check, argues about the ballgame with Ray in a friendly manner, pulls Ginny back when she's threatening to get crazy. He makes some fantastic recommendations, too - the man knows his food.

Afterward, we go back to his hotel room, where there's a nice King-sized bed that kind of scares the hell out of both of us. At first we just lay there for a while, enjoying the fact that we don't have to hurry it. We talk. I tell him I really didn't want to break up his engagement, but he says I didn't - that he and Liz finally realized that they were more like brother and sister than boyfriend and girlfriend, and there's no hard feelings. Even if I'm around? Yes, she's going to forgive and forget. Wow.

Then we make love. It's slow, and nice, and kind of clumsy. It's not like the rushed screwing we did behind Liz's back, or what we did when I was Liz. It exhausts us, but we feel good afterward. I fall asleep in his arms, which isn't something I've done with a man (I don't think) since becoming a woman.

The next morning, we find a bagel place before just walking around the city for a bit. We can't really do much - starting around noon, I'm getting a message on my Blackberry every fifteen minutes or so, and I've got to tap out a few slightly-larger-than-Twitter-sized bits of content for Boston Today's blog. It's a nice day, and I'm sad when five o'clock comes, and he leaves for the drive back to Boston and I head out to the Bronx for the series finale - especially since it doesn't look like we'll have time to meet up again until this weekend.

I am looking forward to it, though - he's got concert tickets for tomorrow night (tonight, I guess), so that will be even more like a real date. If this is what having a regular boyfriend is like, I suppose I could get used to it.

-Art/Penny

Cliff/Tori: Mounting awkwardness

Feeling a bit overexposed (so to speak) with Thom last week may be the least of my concerns. Tori's best friends Sara and Raine are back in town after getting home from their trip to Europe.

I've done as much research as I can, reading old Facebook wall posts and photos. Have I ever mentioned how weird it is to have all these photos of the girl I look like, with these people I don't know, smiling and laughing? It's creepy. I've gotten used to seeing the face in the mirror, but there's still that constant reminder she's not really me. I guess that's kind of a good thing.

Sara is small and Filipino, but very boisterous. Raine is a bigger girl, taller than I am now and a fair bit heavier. I wouldn't say she's fat, but she and Tori are definitely not the same clothing size. When I used to go drinking with Justin, Raine is the kind of girl I'd be asked to entertain while Justin hit on her better-looking friend. I never really minded either, because the, um, bigger girls are usually friendlier (not always! They can be bitchy too, but usually they were nice.) Sometimes they'd even want to make out, but I never went all the way with them because well... I guess I just never asked.

So they came over yesterday, but we ended up leaving because Mae was watching movies with her friends. We went over to their apartment and sat out on the balcony.

It was the first time I've ever felt like I was... undercover, I guess, in the world of women. It was the first time I got hear conversations women have when men aren't around, because for the most part I'm only with one other person at a time, like Alia or Mae, or else with the parents or something.

I guess it wasn't that far from what I was expecting, but I felt so out of place when they started pressing me. Last they heard, Tori was with Rob, and they wanted to know about all this stuff I wouldn't want to talk about even if I knew (like say, how is the sex.) And then when I said I didn't wanna talk about it, they got all offended and surprised like that was the first time Tori had ever been shy about this stuff, and maybe it is. I just tried to play it off like Rob and I weren't really "together" by this point. They then proceeded to dominate the conversation with stories about guys they'd met in Europe. I wanted to ralph.

Then they started talking about this pool party Raine's family was having, and her family and Tori's family (and Sara's family) go back a fair way so of course I have to come, and the whole family is gonna be there too so there's no really good way to get out of it. It feels like it's just going to be the big preview of how things are going to be from now on, being forced to go do things with people I don't really know, and... pretend to be this person.

It's times like this, I think what it would be like to move away from this city. Besides Alia there's nothing here for me (as Cliff.) It's just that, if I want to enjoy the security of Tori's family, I have to accept the awkwardness.

Oh... man. So, it's this Saturday. I figure if I can survive this, I'll be in good shape to understand what this whole "Tori" thing is gonna be about for the next year.

Todd: I'm only happy when it rains...

Being back in Toronto has been really bittersweet for me. Even before I became myself again, I knew the experience would be tainted by Alia's presence at the Inn. So my momentary glow of victory feels like it's faded. The city feels a little colder, a little less familiar, even amidst the first serious heatwave I've felt all summer. It's been more humid than hell lately.

For a few days, Bry and I just walked around the city, savoring the sights. Queen, Bathurst, Yonge-Dundas, College and Spadina... the sights of those streetcars crawling along the streets, the dissipating odor of a monthlong garbage strike. We had Crystal along with us a lot of the time, showing her things that, as Alia, she would have to pretend to know about. The sights, the locales. She seemed pretty awestruck by it. I got the feeling she wasn't much of a city person. I figure she was half excited and half scared. After a few days of that, she retreated to the library. What she's been doing all day there is beyond me, but I think she's been using it as a base of operations for... whatever she plans to do with Alia's body.

She's been keeping her distance, but last night there was an absolutely massive thunderstorm. Like it didn't rain enough when I was in Maine, it's followed me back to my hometown.

Well, she showed up at our place, saying that being alone at Alia's place in a strange city had been hard enough, but the thunderstorm was really getting to her and she needed the company. I told her she was more than welcome to spend time with us, she didn't have to be intimidated or anything. We really just want to help her (well, and Alia, but I think that's implied.) We spent the night watching movies (we introduced her to High Fidelity and The Royal Tenenbaums, but decided our go-to movie, The Big Lebowski, might not be her speed.)

She fell asleep on the couch, and then Bry and I went to my room, where we had... a talk.

Basically, he asked me if I was thinking about making a move on Crystal. That was a big no. Admittedly, the way she looks brings up certain feelings for me, but there's something so off-putting about the way she's not Alia. After being around her for a few weeks, the Inn-curse mojo is starting to soften, the way it did when I'd been around Anne-Marie/Julia enough.

The way Bryan sees it, people are going to see me not being with Alia as a sign that she's available, and coming from her (probably sexually frustrated) background, it might not be easy to withstand temptation. Not to mention. he said, how her being a homebody might cramp our style, but exposing her to our lifestyle of awesomeness* might drive her too far into the aforementioned temptation.

*(It's not as awesome as all that, but it's still pretty good, and I've missed it. I've missed staying out late drinking at dive bars so much.)

Things were supposed to get easier once I went back to the Inn. How did I end up in this mess?

When we woke up in the morning, she was gone again. I'm hoping she makes her stays a more regular thing, but I've never been real good at resisting temptation. But she's not her. No matter how much I want her to be.

-Todd

Cliff/Tori: Pulling my weight

Since I'm still not working (although I've stumbled onto some promising leads) I pass the time and help around the house by doing chores. I guess in theory I'm supposed to be splitting them with Mae, but she's kinda lazy, and gets indignant whenever I ask her to pitch in. Maybe she feels like Tori shouldn't be living at home, and this is her punishment.

Well, that's an irritating attitude. I didn't ask to live here, if I had my I'd be back home in my own place, which I kept tidy mostly be working a lot and being too tired at the end of the day to mess it up too much. I think I've been punished enough, and for no reason. But I can't really explain this to her. So what's a guy to do? I grin and bear it. And I bury my frustrations.

I'm thinking of taking up boxing just so I can have something to punch.

So one of my chores is to walk the family dog. Scruff. He's a big old English sheepdog, which might not have been a problem when I was a man and had a bit more size and strength (I never thought I was a particularly strong man until I started having trouble with heavy doors and tricky jars... urgh.) But now it's a bit of a chore to out-muscle this dog when he wants to go one way and I don't. That said, he's a very friendly dog, very sweet and affectionate... although the first time I met him he shoved his nose directly into my newly-female crotch.

So the other afternoon I was getting in from a promising interview just in time to have to walk him. It was hot out and I had changed into something a bit breezier, a gray tank top and no bra, with shorts. As I was struggling between holding the dog back with one arm and trying to pick up his poop with the other, I hear a voce behind me. "Tori? Hey! Where've you been?"

I turn and see a guy I don't recognize. I've looked at a lot of Tori's Facebook friends' profiles, but not all of them, and I couldn't recall the names of any of the ones I've seen anyway, off the top of my head, not the guys anyway. Mostly, they're dudes she went to school with that wanted to date her but had no berve (I sympathize,) or guys she did date at one point but stayed friends with. This guy looked like the latter. He was nicely dressed, smelled like aftershave. I braced myself and began to sweat.

"Hey... I've been... hanging around the house mostly, wasting the summer, looking for work. You?"

"I just got back from Texas. I thought you went to Europe?"

"No, that was just Raine and Sara. I did go to Maine..." I started stumbling my way through what I know of Tori's backstory. He asks me if I want to go to "that juice place we like." I said not right now, I'm walking the dog. He offers to join me.

Ugh. It was painful. I kept quiet and nodded along to his small talk, but had no idea who he was or what Tori's true relationship to him was. He didn't seem to act like they'd had sex or dated, but it felt like it was possible. I was very uncomfortable.

We got back to my place before long. I gave the dog a treat and he reiterated his offer for juice. Then he said a couple words that have been ringing in my ears ever since.

"My treat."

I shouldn't feel compelled to keep up too strongly with Tori's life and friends. If I end up liking them and getting along with them, on my own terms, I'll be fine, but I don't want to feel like because they are Tori's friends they deserve my company. So I've been dodging people like this guy since I arrived in Philadelphia. Then he said the words "my treat" and suddenly I was very thirsty for juice.

It's weird. Based almost purely on what I look like, people like this want to spend money to spend time with me. I didn't want to go with the guy, but if he was that eager to buy me some juice, I thought, what could the harm be in spending an afternoon with the guy?

So I went with him, a few blocks away from my place, being sure to memorize the route. He told me some anecdotes about people I'm supposed to know. I faked it as best as I could, but when I didn't laugh he asked what was up with me. I told him my mind was someplace else. Well, ain't that the truth.

He asked about my job, I said I left the hair salon because I didn't get along with my boss. He just looked at me like he was rolling his eyes (but wasn't literally) and thinking "Not again." I guess this is the type of pattern Tori has settled into. Which of course makes it damn frustrating to find work.

"Well," he says, "I'll let you know if I hear something." I thought that was nice, although I still had no idea who he was or what he could help me with. In any case, I accepted his offer, at least nominally.

I wasn't comfortable with the whole afternoon though. It felt too much like a date - not like it was really a date, but like he wanted it to be a date. I do believe guys and girls can hang out and not be romantic, I've had enough platonic female friends (read: girls who have rejected me) that I know this can be done. But few of them really looked like Tori. He kept looking at me with this expression I recognized from myself. Like a muted, buried desire. Like somewhere deep down in his brains he was wondering what he had to do to get with me.

It made me feel really weird. Really uncomfortable. But I couldn't do anything because he didn't make a move or anything, he just sat there, being... polite.

When I got home, I was rushing through the house to go to my computer and see exactly who it was I'd spent an hour and a half with, when I passed Mae in the kitchen. "Dude, were you just out like that?"

"Uh yeah, why?"

Then I paused. I hadn't bothered to put a bra on after dropping off the dog, and the tank top didn't offer much support. My boobs were swinging free and I hardly even noticed. But I bet that guy did. Fuck!!

So after going to my room and lying on the bed with my face buried in pillows for a while to look the guy up.

His name is Thom Weiss. According to his profile, he's in "Marketing" which is not terribly specific. Tori dated his older brother for a few months, and I guess they got along okay. So I can assume he hasn't seen Tori naked... but that doesn't mean he didn't want to. And now I think he really wants to.

Every day it seems like I find a new way to feel like an utter clod. I'm a mess.

Arthur/Penny: Not ducking anything ...

... I've just never been a person of interest in an ongoing criminal investigation before. As you might imagine, the first thing I did after blogging about Liz and Ray disappearing was talk to a lawyer, and one of the first things he said was "stop blogging outside of work!" Even a highly-fictionalized version of events, which he naturally believes this blog to be, is material for the police and district attorney, and even if you're innocent, they will see what they want to see and spin it any way they can. I reluctantly passed the word onto Lyn - as you might imagine, I was not especially keen to talk to her after her big confession, but I didn't figure I was angry enough at her that I wanted her in trouble with the law. And then waited.

And waited.

And then, Monday, when I'm in the Gillette Field parking lot (a Red Sox off-day means checking out Patriots training camp), I get a tap on the shoulder. I'm a little bit frazzled, but trying to be friendly. I put a smile on my face and turn around, about to say something pleasant, when my mouth just freezes halfway open. Standing right in front of me, looking kind of nervous, is Raymond Kim. "Hi, Penny," he says. "You're looking good."

I just stand there like a moron for what seems like hours. I stutter his name, following up with something like "you're okay?"

"Oh, yeah," he says. "It was a huge misunderstanding. Liz and I were actually in the airport, but I got cold feet and convinced her that we shouldn't rush this. So we decided to just take a break from the rest of the world and went out to the Cape, just her and me, to see where we stand."

"So, you're saying, you weren't..."

"Kidnapped, killed, or the other way around? Nah." He chuckled. "Can you believe all that ruckus over not calling home and cutting your hand when slicing a bagel? It was downright embarrassing when we got home a week and a half ago and there was crime scene tape on our door!"

I let him have it right across the face. No little girly slap, either, a closed-fist punch with my whole body behind it. It felt really good to watch him go down, I must admit. I took a step closer to him and started yelling.

"You asshole! I've had the police visiting me, Lyn is worried that she caused this somehow by introducing us, I didn't know what had happened to you... A month of this, and it could have been avoided if you'd just called someone?"

He rubbed his jaw, mumbling something about me being even stronger than I look. "I know! It's stupid, and I'm sorry! It's just, Liz and I have known each other forever, and even when we realized we didn't love each other that way, we had to be sure, without anybody putting pressure on us one way or the other."

If he'd said something different, I might have hit him again, but that was pretty reasonable. "So, what're you saying? The wedding's off?"

"Completely. Let me tell you, there's no refunds on this kind of short notice. I think Liz and I are the only members of our family not pissed. I swear, I thought someone from the police would have told you. I was a little afraid to, I have to admit. It's been a long time since I was really free, you know?"

I hate when someone I want to be mad at is right. I reached a hand down and helped him up. "So now what?"

"Well, maybe we can see each other this weekend."

"Can't; they're sending me to New York for Sox-Yankees."

"Well, maybe we can meet up there."

So it's a plan. I just hope this game doesn't take the eternity games between these two usually do. I'm looking forward to seeing just how little this city sleeps.

-Art/Penny

(Yeah, I'm blogging from work... If you've seen how long Yanks/Sox games go, you'll understand how I can get away with that! )

Greg/Priya: A different kind of BF

So Boston to Chicago is a short flight, and I landed at O'hare airport around 8pm. There to pick me up at the airport, was the love of my life. Amber. My girlfriend for 5 years and fiance for the last 2. She saw me and came up to me with a very awkward hug. It was awkward because I hugged her like I would always hug her; tight, sensual, with my arms around her waist. She hugged me back like she would hug Priya, around the neck and super tight. Needless to say the sighing and pressing together of the boobs elicted a 'whoa' and giggle from her.

She took me out to dinner and we talked about my trip. I had no problem talking to Amber like I was her best friend , because if anyone knows as much about her and how she thinks its me. Altho the subject matter was a bit different; clothes, her job, and if i met any cool guys in Maine.

It was hard though, because I couldnt be as affectionate. And she kept asking about why i was silent for two weeks. Or why greg was suddenly so silent, save for an email (which I sent). I bullshat my way through it but I think when new greg appears in a few days Im gonna have him call her.

Which brings me to my next big point. Ive read the blog, and apparently its not only possible to get your body back, but its become frequently more popular. So to the commenter that asked wehn Amber and I are getting married, its next July 17th, and Im gonna re register at the inn so as to avoid being the maid of honor.

-Greg

Todd: Homecoming King and Queen

Bryan, most of the time, is a pretty open guy. There is, seemingly, nothing he feels uncomfortable talking about. In his natural state, at least.

For a while, early in our transformation, it seemed that was a trait that would carry over. There was nothing about Ellie's body he wouldn't comment on. He was fascianted by his skin, his small frame, his gradually-swelling breasts, and of course, his vagina. Man, was he fascinated by his vagina. At the time, it was irritating to me, because as you can imagine (as any normal man would) I had a certain amount of anxiety about my sudden vaginal equipment. At first, he looked at it - as it essentially was in the long-term - as a no-strings-attached vacation from his usual life and body. He had free domain over this young girl's form and, seemingly, felt no shame about it.

But school changed him. Nothing serves to implant a healthy dose of self-consciousness like a high school. Let alone a private one with uniforms. Suddenly he was forced - not that he might not have chosen, but here he was forced - to wear pleated skirts that rode up his legs, marching up and down halls filled with hormonal guys who would see those legs and follow them up, knowing what was under those skirts thanks to a healthy dose of modern Sex Ed. That shut Bryan up pretty quick. Then when he started seeing Leanne, he got particularly sensitive and I think by then he was just sick of the entire experience. Which I found amusing because we basically took the opposite route, since I had let go of my angst and decided just to live with it after so many months. Of course, I was the one having adult married sex, not just lurid teenage girl-on-girl makeouts.

We were on the road from Niagara to Toronto. It was a hot day. He was shifting in his seat and suddenly he turned to me and said "I can't get comfy. My balls are in the way."

I chuckled and said, "You'll get used to them again, give it time."

He just said, "I don't need time. I love this. This is an awesome problem to be having. Goddamn, Todd, I missed my balls. I never thought I would care that much, but I love having testicles."

"I agree," I said, having rediscovered comfortable positioning days ago.

"And seriously. How many times have you jacked off since we changed back?"

I didn't answer.

He laughed, "Bro, you don't even wanna know the kind of numbers I'm doing lately. It's been, like, a non-stop spank-a-thon all month. You're not gonna put this in the blog, are you?"

"Oh definitely not." Whoops.

"I just can't wait to get back to Toronto and just... get busy, you know? Meet new girls. Maybe call up some old ones. I don't know. I have been gone far too long."

"I hear ya."

About this time, the CN Tower came into view, punctuating all the penis-talk.

The truth is, I didn't know what to do. I still don't. I really want to remain faithful to Alia, even though I don't think she expects me to. I can't see myself getting interested in anyone else at this point. I think the main thing being a wife for a year has done for me - other than taught me how to truly satisfy a woman - is that I suddenly feel ready to settle down and get my life together.

But before I started figuring that out, let me tell you about the house guest we got. Because within minutes of stepping through the door of our wonderful crappy apartment, there she was.

Alia. Or should I say, someone who looks like Alia, feels like Alia, seems to move like Alia... but I have to keep reminding myself, is not.

It's not easy. Maybe the curse is playing its game on my head, but everything she says sounds, to me, exactly the way Alia might say it. When she does something drastically out of character, I have to remind myself "Oh yeah, that's why."

She showed up at our door frantically. "Finally! Alia told me I had to come see you guys, I've been waiting and everything. I would've called but my - Alia's - service was cut off. I had to wait for you guys to come back to the building."

I looked her over. My mind and my... (heart?) had a tug of war, saying "Yes it's Alia/No it's not." Even as she introduced herself.

"My name is Crystal Yeats. I'm a real estate agent from Shaker Heights, Ohio. I'm... I'm so sorry this had to happen, but I was told you guys would understand, that you... you lived through an experience like this."

"Yeah," Bryan nodded, "Todd here was a mom."

I elbowed him, "Well, we were both girls."

"You were a woman. I was a girl."

"You were a bitch!"

"So's your mom!"

Et cetera. By now, Crystal was on the couch rubbing her temples.

"It's just all happened so fast. I mean, I'm glad this isn't too big a change, from what you guys are describing, but you have to understand, I'm... I'm supposed to be a fair bit older than Alia. I'm almost forty."

I asked her what her life was like. Did she have kids, a husband, that kind of thing.

"No," she sighed, "I was with a man for years, and we were engaged, but that was a long time ago and since then, well, I haven't had much luck,. I haven't tried hard. I've been very busy with work, you understand."

I didn't, but I pretended to.

Bryan and I shared a knowing look. A single, middle-aged woman with no real attachments. This sounded distressingly like one of those scenarios that could end badly. We made a pact that whatever happens, we had to ensure that we get my Alia back where she belongs.

Luckily, it doesn't seem to be too much of a problem. Crystal seems to have a very mild temperament. She said she's more worried about inconveniencing us than anything else. I told her we'd been inconvenienced for a year by not having penises, we're just glad to be back in our old apartment.

"Well," she said, "I just want to do what's right."

I'd say that this will make the year much easier, but the truth is... who's to say what's right? All I need to do is make sure she doesn't wind up in the hospital or jail or something all year. I do feel a tad guilty about the idea that we'll be sending this woman back to what sounds like a pretty boring life (by her own admission she spent many a Saturday night at bingo.) But it's just available enough that some weirdo might have gotten ahold of her life and is looking forward to staying a single almost-40-year-old real estate agent in Shaker Heights, Ohio.

No matter how you slice it, there's nothing easy about the life of an inn victim at all.

-Todd

Greg/Priya: My to do list.

As I mentioned before, Im a hotel manager. That means I have to co-ordinated the comings and goings of several different departments serving a few hundred rooms. One of the most effective tools when managing is making lists of what is to be done. And thats exactly what I did the morning I woke up after my last post.



1. Contact the real Priya

I used Priya's cell phone, and not my own, to call "Emily David" Monday evening. I presume she must have caller ID, because when she answered the phone she sounded nervous.



"Hello?" she said slowly



"Priya?" I asked



"Yep, although from the sounds of it your the one who looks the part more" she replied



"Its me, Greg" I said quickly and quietly



"Greg" She said in disbelief "But how?"



"Apparently the Inn changes you into the person who stayed in the room before you. We booked the same room, remember?" I explained



"Oh Greg, Im so sorry..." She started



"Dont be, its not your fault and i guess it could be a lot worse. Believe me"



We talked for a few minutes and she gave me some more info on how to be her. Then we hung up and I move on to the next item on the list.



2. Call Amber

My dear sweet fiancee has spent the last few days with no idea of where neither her best friend nor her future hubby were. I called her and explained that we were both ok. I made up a lie about how there is terrible reception in maine, and I was in Boston for a few days, spontaneously. I also told her I saw Greg just as I left. I dont know how im gonna verify that, Ill probably send her an email as Greg, or AIM, since she cant tell that im a tiny little Indian girl when you use those media. Ill just have to make sure i fill in the new Greg, whoever thats gonna be.

3. Write my note
Its weird sitting down writing a note to a stranger telling them that they are gonna have to live your life. I explained the basics about my life and family, and who i was, and who i was now, and that ill still be in the same city so we'll see each other, which should be a help for him. I gave him Priya's contact information for when he gets to Chicago.

4. Get to Chicago
Priya had a plane ticket out of Logan Airport to Chicago for July 18th. Clearly she didnt use it. Its now expired and useless to me. I however, have a ticket for August 1st. The problem is, it was in my name. Fortuneatly with a little talking to with the airline aided by intimate knowledge of myself and a working knowledge of Priya, I was able to get the names switched on the ticket. How "new greg" will get home is beyond me, but If he needs to use a credit card of mine ill be ok with it. Theres a lot of minor details tha can become challenges around here, and ill need to have help when I try to solve them, which brings me to my last item:

5. Read this whole blog
Right now im at the part where Art and Ashlyn are living in Boston, whcih means i got a long ways to go, but ive got time to kill before my flight tommorow. Its comforting that im not the first guy to go through with this and that a few others have written down tips and hints on howto deal with the whole mess.

So ive got some reading to, until then, ill keep you posted

-Greg, or as i should get used to saying "Priya"

Cliff/Tori: Know yourself

My friend Justin - a guy I've written about a few times here - had a theory about women. Well it was about people in general but he always applied it to women. He used to say there were three things you had to do to get to know someone.

One: Ask them about themselves.

Two: Ask other people about them.

Three: Go through their stuff.

I'm not sure how serious about that last one he was, but it's definitely how I've gotten to know about Tori. Obviously the base of the first one was covered by the letter Tori left me, but you've always got to beware of the way people talk about themselves. Only someone with serious self-loathing issues would emphasize how their life had gone horribly wrong and they wound up living with their parents after a failed shot at being a hairdresser. Hiding the embarrassing parts of her life (I don't know why, I was bound to find out) left her letter irritatingly vague.

I've gotten access to Tori's old emails too - both her inbox and outbox. At first I was just fascinated at the level of intimate detail I was getting about this stranger's life, until I realized it was now my life to lead. Then I got a little depressed. Tori shows a really unhealthy judgmental attitude in some of these things, ripping into people she sometimes describes as her best friends, and the way she talked about her ex-boss it's no wonder she got canned, and I wonder how badly this is affecting my job search.

I can't exactly go up to these people and ask them what they think of Tori. Her two best friends, Sara and Raine, went to Europe this summer, leaving her here - her big getaway was to Maine with Rob. I can't help but imagine that maybe Sara and Raine really didn't want her on the trip with them.

The most feedback I've gotten is from Mae. She's kind of an annoying presence in that she's always carping at me, but I like to think she and I would've gotten along okay if I was a teenager in my past life. I would've understood her better than I would have understood Tori. She and Tori are pretty much opposites.

I don't want to say Tori's an airhead and Mae is brainy. Tori looks to have done half-decent in school - not honor roll or anything but not a failure. She went to beauty school instead of college so I can't really discern much more from that other than, you know, she was good with hair and stuff. She writes pretty literately, with some run-on-sentences that make me have to re-read sometimes, and occasionally she mixes up "you're/your" and such. Not a big deal as far as I'm concerned.

Mae is sarcastic, very down-to-Earth, a bit lazy. has good taste in movies and music (better than Tori's in my opinion.) Dresses rebelliously but conservatively - mostly in black, very grungy/punky. A fair bit curvier than Tori, and not quite as tall but we're close. Natural blonde hair with dark streaks.

I kind of want to get to know her, to get along with her, as long as I'm stuck here but she's given me the evil eye every time we get near each other, despite a peaceful co-existence. She tries to ignore me, and I'm trying to at least be polite to her. Maybe indicate that Tori has changed somehow, even if I can't make her understand how.

It seems to be working okay. Tuesday I came into the family room and flopped down in a chair to rest my eyes after another annoying interview - they're getting better - when Mae came in and started flipping through the channels.

"What's the matter Vic? Pimps aren't hiring?"

"Nah," I said by reflex, "They gave the job to your mom."

I looked over at her - she was half confused, half amused. It took me a moment to realize "her mom" was "my mom" too. Then we both laughed a bit. That broke the month-long ice a little. We sat and watched daytime TV without further incident. I still don't think she's my biggest fan, but I'm thinking she doesn't hate me either. I've got an older brother, I know sibling relationships can be complicated.

I'm hoping, in time "Cliff" will appear more obviously behind Tori's appearance. I like to think I was a pretty likable guy, so having hostility in my life is a little annoying.

Alia/Rob: Comments, complaints, concerns.

I haven't given myself a lot of time to sit and pity myself, but there have been moments when I feel truly helpless. I feel like Cliff has maybe succumbed to it a bit more than I have. I've been reading up, preparing for this teaching gig I've been stuck with. Cliff has been thrown a bit more headlong into chaos and it shows in the exhaustion on her face.

That's not to say I've been getting along perfectly. A few days after I got to Philly I began to feel a little ill, and soon after figured out why. Nicotine cravings. Fuck. Rob was a smoker.

I've never smoked a cigarette in my life. Well, not tobacco anyway. Todd used to at one point and I hated it. It made him smell like my dad, who also smoked. I found this big carton of cigarettes in the cupboard - hell, there were a few packs in my luggage in a pocket I had overlooked. I had to get them out of the house.

I considered smoking them. Briefly. But then I decided I'm not just going to do things because Rob did them. Not if I'm not already inclined to do so. So I went out and got nicotine gum, and scrapped the cigs. It's been working, for the most part, but I hate feeling dependent on anything. I think the point is, I'll get over it.

The other nagging problem is, well... Rob is not that young. He's 30, but I feel old before my time. I go for long walks and come home feeling sore, especially in the mornings. The smoker's cough doesn't help. When Todd and Bryan were over, we stayed up Saturday night (after seeing The Hangover) smoking weed and eating Doritos, kind of like old times. Except they kept making stupid Mexican jokes. Calling me George Lopez and whatnot. I took offense to that. At least they didn't call me Carlos Mencia.

I wound up with a massive case of heartburn. I'm not somebody who, you know, indulges in that way a whole lot. I can live without it. But it really hammered home how far forward I've been sent as far as wear and tear.

And then of course, the sex thing. I don't know what to make of my penis. It's all wonky. I'll see a cute guy and maybe I'll get a half of an erection, and the feeling of having half an erection will give me a full one... and then I'll feel like I'm cheating on Todd, and it'll wear off. And then I'll see a woman... and I don't even know. Suddenly there's something very appealing about women I mostly would've thought were stupid bitches at a first glance.

Not that I never thought they were attractive. I mean look. I know what a hot girl looks like. I never really felt all that curious, but there have been some very good-looking women I knew that I maybe might've considered beyond my actual sexual preference. And now, thanks to this stupid penis, I can't ignore that feeling. And the standard is a bit lower. Is it me? Is it my mind, exploiting a curiosity I always tried to suppress? Or is the body deciding for itself what it likes? It's too confusing. I don't want to do anything!

Which brings me to the problem of Rob's... relationships. Yes, he was seeing Tori at the time of their transformation. Right now, they're a couple down in Louisville. The thing is, Rob also had other, previous relationships he wasn't entirely done with.

The type of relationship that requires paperwork and legal action to dissolve.

He was fucking married. Or divorced. Or getting divorced, I should say.

So for now that's my problem. I'm supposed to go down to his lawyer's office to sign things soon. Whatever, I guess I don't really care, it was just annoying to find out I had to take care of this stuff.

So that's that.

-Alia

Todd: The City of Brotherly Love, so to speak.

I'm guessing new-Kalli and new-Julia were at the Inn with Greg down there. I have yet to hear from them, or Anne-Marie on the subject of them. Despite having returned to my body, and being eager to get on with my life as best I can, I feel a responsibility to help those who have been transformed. So if there's anything any of the new folks need, feel free to seek me out. In the meantime, though, Bry and I took flight. first stop NYC, then Philly.

I had wanted to go visit Darren/Jaime, but hadn't thought to bring her contact information, and wasn't in the mood to go on a (wo)manhunt. The fact that I couldn't reach her was a bit of a relief. As much as I wanted to check in and see how she was, our last meeting was not exactly the easiest thing for either of us. I was kind of a dick to her and I wanted to apologize, but the more I thought about it, the more I realized my presence might just upset her more. Last time I checked, she was slowly growing more comfortable with being a woman and starting to get on with her life, but I think some of what I said rattled her a little bit. If she's made more progress, seeing me and Bry as the guys we are might just undo it. Maybe what she needs is to move past the Inn and the blog and everything, like Ginessa.

So it wasn't much of a stay in New York and we headed out to Philadelphia, a city we stopped in briefly last year before we ever transformed. It was the last place I ever had sex with a woman, after a concert by the Bloody Knuckles, the guilt of which inspired me to reconcile with Alia, and then go to Maine. It seems like a lifetime ago, but it was just over a year.

Friday night we arrived at Alia's, or rather Rob Garcia's place. It was a small ground-level apartment. Pretty cramped, but neat and tidy -- after picking up after the likes of me for a few years, Alia can clean for anyone. Actually, that's something we fought about, but in the future will very doubtfully be an issue.

We were too tired to do anything that first night, other than have a couple drinks and catch up on old times. I tried very hard to get over the awkwardness of seeing the girl I've known and loved so long sitting in the body of this 200-pound almost middle-aged (about the same age as Anne-Marie, maybe a bit younger) guy. She vented a little bit about how irritated she'd been, back when she was herself and she thought I was totally ignoring her. I repeatedly said it was all in the past - not even my past - but she said it was during that time she realized how important I was to her, because of how frustrated she got with my absence.

I sighed, "Now look at us. I feel like an idiot for following you to Maine. god, if I'd trusted you, or the person who said he was you..."

"Well," I sighed, "What's done is done, that's what I say. I mean, look. Not three months, ago, I had a vagina."

"Me too," Bryan piped in.

Alia laughed, "God, guys. I still can't imagine it. you, Todd, are the biggest gynophobe I ever met."

"Is that a word?"

"It is now. you never wanted to know about my periods or birth control or anything."

"That's typical!" I defended myself.

"You didn't even like looking at my pussy. I remember you used to clamp your eyes closed."

"Too much information!" Bryan covered his ears. I was embarrassed.

"I'm just saying, Todd, I would've loved to see the look on your face the first time you got your monthly. or the first time you had sex. You had sex with a dude! I still can't believe that!"

"I used to do this trick," I explained, "It's like, double-consciousness. I would imagine that I was Hal - Anne-Marie's husband - and you were Anne-Marie."

"That doesn't make sense."

"it was a psychological thing, to like, deal with the pleasure. I imagined the times we fucked, and substituted whatever pleasure I felt for pleasure I imagined I'd given you."

"Gee, that's real romantic, thanks stud," she said sarcastically. "How'd that work for you?"

"Surprisingly well. I had a couple badass orgasms, I tell you."

Alia glanced over at Bryan, who was just shaking his head. "Don't look at me, I stayed celibate the whole time out of respect for Ellie's purity. Believe me, I could've gotten to third with Leanne, probably after only a few weeks."

"Somehow, I'm skeptical." I shook my head.

"Well, okay. I mean, whatever I did with myself, that's my own business. I sure as hell won't tell you guys, because I know you'll just write it on the blog, and I think that might be illegal since I was 14 friggin' years old."

"True enough. I hope you did restrain yourself."

"Damn right I did."

Alia turned back to me, "So Todd, are you, like, worried about any lingering effects?"

"What do you mean, like I'll want to wear a bra around the house or something?"

"No," she laughed half-drunkenly at her own awkward question, "I mean, like, after having sex with Hal all those times. What if you don't like having sex with girls anymore?"

"Are you kidding me?! If anything I'll like it more now that I know how to be good at it. I don't wanna be anywhere near anyone else's dick, no offense sweetie."

"None taken."

"Of course, if you get back to Toronto next year and decide you dig girls, well, we'll deal with that when it happens."

"Uh huh. Sure. Don't count on it, buddy."

Around 1 AM, we started to get sleepy. There was a lot of awkwardness about sleeping arrangements. I could sense Alia trying to accommodate the 'whole she's a guy, I'm a guy, we're not really together' thing, but in the end I just cut the crap and said "Look, Alia, you know I love you, and we're both mature people here. I'm capable of sleeping in bed with you and not fixating on sex."

"I dunno," she said, leading me back to her room, "Can I trust you not to just whip it out? You've pulled that trick once or twice."

"Like I said," I told her, "I'm done with other guys' dicks. No offense."

She extended her hand - her big ole man-hand. "Friends?"

"Friends."

So we slept, fully clothed, in Rob's bed. And that's all that happened, pervs. Although, when I woke up, I guess we had started spooning at some point during the night, because my arm was trapped under her. Awkward.

Saturday, we invited Cliff to hang out with us as we went for lunch, movie, dinner, drinks. We were sitting on a patio, and she came up wearing short shorts and a camisole with a bag slung over her shoulder, the strap crossing between her boobs. From her last post, I'd expected her to arrive wearing baggy trousers and a large overcoat, but I guess she's turning toward the "girl clothes" thing by degrees, which is good.

I mean, I take it from my own experience - it's a constant tug of war, yes, between the way the world sees you and the way you want to see yourself. But you're not doing yourself any favours if you don't make the compromise, because there's not a whole lot you can do about the way your body looks. Unless you've got the time, energy and money to track down a whole wardrobe of more gender-neutral stuff, it's best to work with what you've been given. Anne-Marie had that kind of time and money, but I didn't feel it was mine to spend. Cliff clearly doesn't, until she finally gets herself a job she's living off savings.

Because the truth is, whether you're wearing jeans or a skirt, you still haven't got a penis, so nobody's going to look at you the way you want them to. I hated it, believe me, and it took months before I was secure enough with myself to put it out of mind. I don't expect Cliff to reach that conclusion any faster.

She's a nice person, but the change has really put her into an awkward frame of mind. She seemed shy, out of her element, awkward. Rigid. Not that I blame her. I felt my own personality being suppressed for months after the change and I hated it. I wanted to reassure her, tell her everything was going to be okay, but if someone had told me in September how I'd feel about womanhood in April, I wouldn't have wanted to hear it. So I just let her be.

I've called Cliff "her" and yet also called Alia "her." I was hanging out with this guy, Alia-in-Rob's-body all weekend but in the abstract I still think of her as a girl. I think it may just be because I know Alia so well, and see her personality emerging from behind Rob's face, whereas not only did I never really know Cliff, I didn't sense "him" letting "his" personality out much, so to me, Cliff is this shy girl, and Alia, despite her appearance, is still the girl I always knew, which is in a way quite reassuring.

So there's that. Bry told me later he was fighting off the urge to hit on Cliff the entire time. Nice.

We hit the road again Sunday but have yet to reach Toronto. We stopped off in Niagara Falls for the night/day. As soon as we were over the border, Bry kissed the ground.

Welcome home.

We'll be having dinner here, and then head home in time to go to bed tonight in our own beds. That's going to be weird. But in an awesome way.

We're only a few kilometers away from putting this entire experience behind us. And, I guess, our lives will be beginning again at last.

I'll get back to you soon as something happens
-Todd

Greg: Perhaps I shouldve done more than just skim

Of course, even if I had read every post in this blog and learned of the TRUE nature of the Inn, would I have believed it? Or would I chalk it up to eccentric and elaborate fiction due to the "curse"? Is that what most readers out there think?



As you may have guessed by now, I, like almost every other regular poster here, have changed. And aslo like almost every other poster, I'm a woman (I wonder if there's any reason for that?). But not Just any woman. Today I woke up to the face of Priya Patel, who happens to be a very good friend of mine. She also happens to be the best friend of my fiancee.



I guess i dont need to fill you all in on the gory details. Im not sure how helpful i would be since I wasnt awake during my transfomation. It was basically go to bed as Greg, then wake up to screaming all around me.



The Inn has full length mirrors in all of its rooms, I dont know if thats intentional or coincidental. I dont know how others have described waking up as someone else,but heres my take. You KNOW something is off when you wake up. In my case, it was Priyas long black hair falling in my face, the fact that my arms and hands were now a completely different color, and the shifting of her breasts. But it doesnt really HIT you till you look in the mirror and see someone else's image doing the things your doing.

I guess my experience might be different than most of the other posters here, as I recognized that face in the mirror. Priya and I booked room 2 consecutively as part of an online 2 for 1 offer. She was supposed to check out and return to Chicago last saturday, but Amber (my fiancee) hadnt heard from her yet and was getting worried. Turns out, Priya did check out...just not as Priya.

To continue the story, the screamin led me into the hallway, still wearing an now over sized tshirt. (I had been wearing boxers,but they didnt stay up on my new frame, so i just went into the hall commando...no one noticed, all the important stuf was covered up).

In the hallway were a dozen or so very confused people. Housewives, children, old people, college students. People were screaming at each other and claiming to be other people, only to be told that no one else knew what was going on.

After about an hour, a black girl about 20 emerged from her room with a piece of paper. "Hey guys, check the closets! There's notes and luggage that helps explain it.

I ducked backed into the room and opened the closet. (I travel light and live out of my suitcase, so I didnt open the closet once). Inside were Priya's suitcases and an envelope containing the following note:

"Dear whoever,

If you can read this, that means your me. Apparnently this hotel causes you to change into the person who stayed here before you.

My name is Priya Patel and Im a teacher from Chicago, or rather, you are now. I currently look like an Emily David, and I apparently have to act like her, which means im in New Jersey right now doing whatever she does. And that means youre gonna have to go to Chicago to do what I do.
"

The note continued with details of Priya's life and contact information for her as emily.

This all happened sunday. Ive got a lot to sort out and do. Luckily i can stay at the Inn for another week.

Ill keep ya posted

-Greg

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

I have been having a bitch of a day.

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

"Hullo, is this John Clifford then?"

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Seriously though. FML.

Greg: Is anyone else bored?

So I found a flyer with a link to this blog on it, saying its an online guestbook and message board. Id imagine its been used for that at some point in its 3 year history, even tho the first posts read like a bunch of guys talking poker and lately its become a way for a couple to publicly air their relationship issues.

Anyway, my name is Greg Schmitt, and Im a 24 year old Hotel Manager from Chicago. I was supposed to be here with my fiance on a lover's weekend, but she just HAD to go into work at her job as a pharmacy. But the tickets were non refundable, we got them as a 2 for 1 booking on Travelocity. Her best friend stayed here the 2 weeks before me.

Anyway, like i said, im taken, but if anyone else staying at the inn wants to hang out, Im 24 and love baseball, drinking, and exploring new places. Im staying in Room 2 if anyone's interested.

Cliff/Tori: Back off, world

Damnit will you people please stop talking about sex??

Look, I don't know how the rest of you are coping, but I want that idea as far away from me as I can get. I don't even like going out in form-fitting clothes because I know guys are looking at me, it's embarrassing and annoying and a lot of other things.

But look if I'm going to be telling you all my entire life story while I'm here there's something I guess you should know about me. I guess it's the reason why all this stuff has made me so comfortable.

I'm a virgin. Or I was a virgin? As Cliff, I'm a virgin and I guess I still am, but I'm assuming Tori has gone all the way. But that doesn't really count for me. So before the transformation I was a 27-year-old virgin male.

It wasn't by choice, believe me. The first girl I ever "dated" was long distance, from age 16-17, nearly 2 years, and then we broke it off when I found out she wasn't really serious about it. It hurt. A couple years later, when I was in college, I met a girl. She had a fairly religious upbringing and wanted to save herself, and I respected that. I dated her for four and a half years and we never did anything serious. I never felt bad about it until she broke up with me, and I haven't seen anyone seriously since then. Three years. Nothing.

The first naked girl I ever saw in person was my own self in a mirror. How do you think that made me feel, huh?

I mean, listen. I don't obsess about it. I do try to meet girls and it's just never worked out, but with all that has happened... my penis taken away from me before I ever got a chance to use it... like I wasted 27 years of maleness just to be re-assigned to a new life where it's not even an option. Sex? No thank you. I'll just go be a priest or a nun or something.

Right now I'm just sitting on my butt waiting to hear back from some of those jobs I've applied to. Some of them are pretty crappy but I need to get out of this house. Mostly I'm either on the internet reading this blog, or trying to make sense of Tori's social life through Facebook, or sitting on the porch reading.

While "mom" and "dad" are out of the house, and Mae (Leah Mae, to be exact) is usually off with her friends, I'm trying to be a nice person and keep busy by keeping the place tidy and doing other chores... although I have to wait until somebody asks because I feel awkward about taking the liberty like that.

So it's not like I've got a lot else to think about. I spent a long time trying to convince myself that sex isn't the most important thing in the world. The idea never really took hold.

Ughhh I need a job!

Todd: Mama told me not to come

Anne-Marie and Ellie stopped by on Friday.

They're back to normal. At least, she certainly seemed normal, although perhaps if something went awry she may have been covering up, and part of me is concerned that is the case, but from all appearances her transformation went on without a hitch. I never met Deb, so seeing Anne-Marie in that body was as close as I've gotten to an "out-of-body experience" in this entire ordeal. Meeting the woman whose body I'd occupied for nearly a year. I mean, obviously I'd met her, but meeting her in her own skin feels like something new.

While Bry and I are squatting at Julia and Kalli's quarters, Anne-Marie and Ellie are going back to their proper homes. So they came by and confirmed for us that everything was okay. Anne-Marie was set to deliver some kind of heartfelt speech about how much she appreciated what I had done for her, and I told her it wasn't necessary. Any ethical person would've done the same (or better) and I'd be lying if I said I didn't get anything out of the experience. A nice house, a good life, a look at family life from a different perspective. There were times, after I became comfortable with womanhood, when I wondered whether Donna was right and I was meant to stay. But I knew I wasn't. And as much as I enjoyed my time, I was glad to leave.

Ellie said nothing. She had this very cold look on her face, like she was being punished. I can understand why she might have some bitter feelings about the entire situation. She had a taste of independence and now will have to wait a few more years before she can get back to where Kalli was. I hope she appreciates what a good life she has, though.

She might also still be annoyed with Bry for the lesbian thing, but, well, he's only human.

When I spoke to Alia about Donna, she was very understanding. I think I was hoping, a little bit, for her to be furious with me. I felt like I needed someone to tell me what an asshole I was. But she left me off the hook, maybe understanding that it had been so long since I'd had a penis to use, the urge was ... too much to ignore. Maybe because she believed I was punishing her for Sean Flaherty, but that's nobody's fault, it was a no-win situation. Now we all know what the score is.

(I just realized I've called her "she" in this blog repeatedly. Inaccurate as that may be, I don't really feel comfortable saying "he" for her.)

I don't know if she's going to be doing anything, you know, with her new set of privates this year. I'm sure she doesn't plan on it, but neither did I, and sometimes you get caught up in another person's life, that becomes part of the role you play. I told her she'd be crazy not to try it at least once. She said "Haha Todd. Just because you only ever thought with your penis doesn't mean I'm gonna think with mine." I told her, "We'll see." So long as she doesn't go falling in love, staying as Rob, I give her free reign. She's not really my girlfriend right now, is she? Well, I plan on abstaining this year, but like I said, I think she'd be crazy to.

But again, as she said, she's got more important matters to think of than who she's buggering. Right now, I guess I don't. When I get back to Toronto, I've got to start rebuilding my life, trying to account for the year I lost and finding a new direction. I guess some of that might be of interest to the readers of this blog, but if you don't hear much from me, it's because my life will have, finally, thankfully, gotten boring to talk about.

Then again, I anticipate meeting the new Alia will be... well, interesting, and horrifying, on certain levels. So I'll check in on that. I don't know whether she's spoken to my Alia yet, but if so she hasn't told me.

Bry and I haven't decided whether or not to stick around and meet the new Julia and Kalli. It could be useful to make more connections with other victims, but we're both starting to feel that wanderlust. We're thinking of hitting a few other cities before we head for home - Philadelphia, of course, and probably NYC on the way.

Personally, I can't wait to get on the road again.

-Todd

Alia/Rob: Sexx Laws

Judging by the fact that he was the entire reason I went to Maine - no simple feat from Toronto, quite honestly - you can assume how important Todd is to me. Not just as a boyfriend, as someone I loved spending time with, but as an influence on the person I am. As many times as he has hurt me over the years, I will never want to rid my life of him, I think, because a lot about the person I became when I branched out on my own was thanks to him.

I've talked a bit about this before the transformation. In our first year of University, I was struggling against my perception of myself... I had always been a shy, quiet, well-behaved smart girl. Certain things are expected of a girl of my upbringing, not that my parents are, like, millionaires, but they were well off and I did well in school. So I didn't party in high school, I didn't drink, my friends and I mainly got together on Saturday nights to watch movies and play board games. I was also quite sheltered - stuck in a comfort zone, and I hated it.

Todd was the one who broke down that sheltered and made it a point to show me how to have fun. I didn't understand what he liked about me, until I realized he really wanted to date someone smarter then himself, and maybe I could influence him as much as he did me. And I think I did, although I was really very disappointed when he dropped out. I think he regrets that, and I hope when he gets back to Toronto he does something about it

So, whereas I didn't know much about music and movies before Todd, he's shown me a lot of interesting things. So I titled this entry after a Beck song, because he's an artist Todd and I both always enjoyed, and because, well, it fits. I've got some serious shit to sort out. And I'm not even talking about Rob's situation.

Before Todd wrote up this entry, we talked on MSN a while, and he told me exactly what had happened. He conveyed, as best as an MSN convo can, a great sense of guilt and remorse about what had happened between him and Donna.

It's always been complicated, between Todd and I... and certainly not being helped by our current situations.

Well, after a lot of frustrated temple-rubbing, I forgave the bastard. I feel like such a stupid girl for standing by the guy after something like that, like one of those politicians' wives who stand in the background while they give a press conference about all the prostitutes they've had sex with. Sometimes, I really hate myself for loving that guy.

I guess we just both... understand something about the situation. We were barely on speaking terms before he left for the States, and after "he" got back, we definitely weren't boyfriend and girlfriend, and I'm still angry about being made to believe that person was my Todd, because I was so unbelievably mad at him for ignoring me the way he did - like all "he" really wanted was to be my friend, and he tried at that but my feelings for him never went away. Putting that year out of my mind is going to be very hard.

So I slept with other guys, I did. I'll admit it. I slutted around for a little while, I'm not proud of it. It was my pathetic attempt at revenge but it turns out the only people I was hurting were myself, and a man who didn't deserve it (Todd, when I finally told him.) So I accepted the Donna thing as punishment, even though he claims not to have enjoyed it.

Part of me wants to be with him again. Part of me wants to drop everything in Philadelphia and run back to Toronto with him, but I know I can't do that. I've been given responsibilities here, and I don't want to fuck Roberto's life up too badly, if I can get out of it. Besides, as open-minded as Todd is, I think he's been given enough male attention lately. I know he probably seemed very bold about the whole thing on here, but when he opened up to me about it, it seemed very painful for him to recall. I can't be with him like this.

So I've made a decision. We've made a decision. This year doesn't count. Nor does last year. We'll find our way back to each other as soon as we can, but until then, we've got to live our lives and not worry about sexual politics. I still don't know if I'm going to do anything... or who I would want to do it with... I'm kind of just thinking of keeping my head down and living like a monk this year. And maybe he'll do the same. But whether that actually happens or not, we both know that we belong together, and when this is all over, we will be.

Besides, I've got bigger problems right now than who I, or anyone else, is fucking.

So that's it. The gist of it all is: we're not together, not right now, so we shouldn't act like we are, or feel guilty about anything we end up doing.

......I really hope this doesn't blow up in our faces. I'm feeling like an idiot for even typing it.

Well, here goes nothing.

-Alia

Alia/Rob: The Walking Tour of Philadelphia and Rob Garcia's Life

Philly looks considerably different from what I've seen of it in Rocky and the opening of Fresh Prince. It's a pretty nice city, although not without its slums. I don't begrudge a city its slums. I hate what they represent... I tend to fear the people who live there... but I don't think they ruin cities. Maybe because I grew up in a Toronto suburb that is renowned for its wealth, I have a bit of detachment from the subject. I just think the visual is... appealing, on a certain level. They add character to a city brimming with life.

It's a nice town. Lots of character. A ton of history, obviously. I've spent a lot of this week just kind of floating around, looking like a tourist, trying not to get lost, observing the city. Taking it all in. My temporary home. Probably a lot more impressive than the bland suburban hell Todd described me. He'd never lived in suburbia before.

Naturally I can't compare this city favorably to Toronto. I love that city. I think it's a bit underrated by the world, although maybe somewhat overrated by some of its citizens. I'm not much of a hockey fan but it'll feel very familiar when the season starts up again. Actually, it won't, because Penguin fans are a lot more accustomed to winning than Leafs fans (although they always seem so disappointed. There's nothing like Canadians, I tell you.)

This is going to sound stupid, but I've been making a conscious effort to de-feminize. I don't want to say I'm "embracing" manhood (or at least, stereotypical maleness) at this point as much as being realistic. The transformation didn't immediately alter the way I walk or talk or think. I feel self-conscious behaving like a girl in this thick, hairy body. So I want to act the part a little bit. Be a bit of a slouch. Take big manly steps. Keep my hands in my pockets. Hah! Pockets. Not that I didn't own anything with pockets but my God these pants are roomy. And I can understand why.

I'm swinging some lumber here. Ladies... (jk.)

In seriousness though, the walking around has gotten me a bit acclimated not only to Philadelphia, but being seen in public as Rob. I keep trying to refrain from looking at females too long because they'll probably think I'm checking them out, but I haven't managed to let my reflexes catch up with me in that way just yet. Nobody thinks much of a girl casting glances another girl's way, if she's pretty or well-dressed, but looking like I do, it's creepy and I know it.

I keep trying to get Cliff out, but she's still really bummed. And I understand, to some degree - hey, man, we're all going through some really weird stuff right now - but it's only practical. She's acknowledged she can't hide in her room for a whole year.

Oh yeah, guys, shaving still annoys me. Plus, make one little crack and suddenly people go "Hey what's the big deal?" I've read enough of this blog to see ex-boys complain plenty about stuff I dealt with every day of my life without much of a thought. (Boys feel bad about waking up one morning with boobs? Try waiting for them to slowly, painfully grow in. Moving on.) I don't mean to be a bitch, but can I at least have this one complaint? It's still weird for me, so far.

Anyway, I'm getting all of this exploration out of the way, because my freedom is on a timer. In September I'll have to go do Rob's job, which feels like one of the surprisingly daunting side-effects of this transformation. Doing somebody else's job. It feels like the set-up for a bad reality show. Cliff? Luckily unemployed, albeit underqualified for stuff. Todd, as Anne-Marie was a housewfie, which is a different kind of job. Bry? Got to go to school all day! Me? I've gotta be the teacher. Figures. I always was the responsible one out of us three. (No offense, guys, but you know you would agree.)

Teacher. Surprisingly - and luckily - I'm not teaching Spanish. The Mexican guy is actually allowed to teach other subjects. Rob is teaching English and History. History, particularly American history, I'm not so good at. English? I was an English major. I have my BA in it and I was in the middle of post-grad studies. I've TA'd a few times, I know how to run a class... sort of. Okay sure, the situation is quite different but the idea is the same... right?

Well damn, this isn't the place for self-doubt. I can do this. I've got to.

Well, hopefully I'll believe in myself by the time I have to start inspiring young minds.

-Alia

Todd: The Whole Truth

A couple of days ago, I paid a visit to Donna. You guys remember Donna, right? Slightly older than Anne-Marie, married with a few kids, vehemently opposed to me getting my body back? That Donna.

To say it was weird arriving in that neighbourhood, that's an understatement. Imagine going back to a place you lived when you were a kid, and seeing everyone you knew, all the houses you were familiar with completely the same, the memories of afternoons spent by the pool still fresh in your mind... but you're a stranger. Not enough time has passed that you can say "this place has changed so much," like when you come back as an adult. I didn't expect it to bother me that much. I didn't realize how attached I'd become to that little neighbourhood... at the time I thought of it more like a quiet, lonely prison, albeit a colourful one.

So I walk up to Donna's door and ring the bell. She answers, dressed in shorts and a pink top with spaghetti straps. No bra. She looks at me for a moment, trying to place my face, and asks, "Can I help you?"

I bite my lip a moment and grumble. "Donna, it's me. It's Todd." I tried to give her a very stern glare.

"Todd. From... Maine?"

"That's right."

She takes a deep breath and sighs. I take it to mean she's disappointed about something - whether the fact that I actually went and transformed, or something about my physical appearance, I have no idea. She invites me in and offers iced tea, which I decline politely.

"I was just thinking about going for a swim. Did you bring trunks?" No. "You can borrow some of Andrew's if you like." Andrew, her husband, who was in the city at the time, and on whom she'd planned to cheat with me. No thanks. "Well you can just swim in that, I'm sure it''ll be fine." I was wearing khaki shorts. Again, I declined, I wasn't interested in a swim, although it was a warm day. I didn't consider this a social call. "Suit yourself." She goes upstairs to change.

When she came back down, she was wearing a bikini, showing off those surprisingly tight abs of hers, and I've helped myself to some iced tea anyhow. She leads me to the backyard. "If you just want to come sit outside a while, I hope you won't be too bored while I swim." All I wanted was to get down to business but she seemed to delight in dragging it out. I sat on a reclining chair and she did a few dives and laps.

it wasn't that long ago that Donna and I had a really nice moment by the pool in Anne-Marie's backyard. Beneath the surface between us there's always been some kind of tension I didn't really understand, regarding my intention to become myself again. But on that day we were able to put it aside and be quite friendly.

At this point, she's making a point to be sexy for my benefit, working her curves by the poolside. I tried to resist looking, because I've been feeling a lot of guilt about the whole Alia thing. I really wanted to make a fresh start and go home and be with her, but I knew that was not possible. Not yet anyway.

Eventually she gets out of the pool and towels off. Finally I ask her.

"Donna, why didn't you want me to go back to Maine? Does it have something to do with the person you used to be?"

She sits up next to me and gets this faraway look in her eye.

"It was 1981. I still remember the shock of waking up that morning and being changed, but it didn't hit me as hard as some other people. There were a lot of girls there, running around in a panic begging for answers. I remember feeling very calm, I had this... this feeling that everything was going to turn out okay, even though I didn't know what the hell was going on. I said there were a lot of girls, because the people we'd turned into were from a girl's high school, they were the junior debate team. Ages 14-16. I was 14."

"You were 14 afterward, what were you before?" I asked. She ignored me, stood, and led me inside to the kitchen.

"I found this one girl, sitting, crying. Understandably confused. She told me her name was Tyler, and she was 11 years old, and she didn't understand what was going on. I told her it was magic, that we'd been given a gift. She said she didn't want it. All she wanted was her parents, but all she had were two other girls claiming they were her parents. I told her to stay with me and I'd help her."

Ï wanted to object to this part of the story, tell her it was wrong to encourage that person to ignore her parents, but I guess, being under stress like that, it's hard to say what's right and wrong to do. So I let her continue.

"Tyler's parents became 16-year-olds. Tyler and I became 14. The people who became the supervisors tried to gather us all together according to who we said we were, but it didn't matter in the long run. Tyler - Stephanie, now - didn't get to see her parents much after that, after we got back to our new home. She had new parents, a new life. One of the parents had to move away. I think I heard the other eventually went back to Maine, and then who knows what became of her. I was there for Stephanie, though. I was there to be her friend. We never spoke much about who we'd been, we agreed to just continue living our lives. I figured, what was the difference for her, she was 11, she hadn't had much of a life, and after a while I don't think she remembered much about being a boy. We didn't obsess about getting our lives back, Todd, because neither of us wanted them back. We weren't those people anymore."

My heart felt heavy. I felt really bad for this boy whose life was altered beyond recognition, and who didn't even seem to understand the gravity of what had happened. He lost three of the most crucial years of youth when you really start to learn what you are about. I can only imagine how humiliating those first years after the change had been.

Donna continued. "Steph moved away for college, and I stayed around here. We lost touch over the years. I missed her, because even though I'd been surrounded by girls who had gone through the same thing at school, she was the only one who mattered to me. She was my maid of honor, but like everything else, she drifted away from me. I miss her, Todd. I didn't realize it until you came into my life."

"I'm sorry to hear that..."

"I've been a woman my entire life, Todd. Stephanie, by now, probably barely remembers anything else. I want to know about you. How much pain did you feel when your body was taken away from you? How many lonely nights did you spend fearing you would never have it back? How much suffering could've been undone by letting it go?"

I don't answer.

"How guilty did you feel... when you let Hal inside of you for the first time? And how much did you hate that you liked it?"

Again, I say nothing. She begins to undo her bikini top.

"You're a very brave man for going back, no matter what I said. For facing that year of torture and taking control of your life again. I didn't mean to hurt your feelings, Todd. I want to help you. Don't you want to feel like a man again?" She stepped closer, her bare breasts glistening in the afternoon sunlight coming in through the kitchen window. She whispered, "There's nobody else here. I want to help you." She came in close and kissed me, and as much as I wanted to resist, as much as I wanted to step away, I didn't. I don't know. I was feeling very caught up in the moment. It's been so long since I had a penis, I forgot how hard it is to resist when something gets you going.

Come to think of it, I think she may have spiked the Iced Tea, but that's neither here nor there.

I throw myself on the mercy of the blog. I'm no saint. I feel like an asshole. I've been a man for only a couple weeks, I've been dying every time I see an attractive woman, knowing my girl is a 30-year-old dude. I'm only human.

So I slept with her. Fuck. I feel ashamed of myself for typing it, for falling prey to her whims, because I said I wouldn't, I just didn't anticipate how easily I could be persuaded. I guess, not really feeling much attraction to her when I was a woman (not feeling much attraction to anybody) made me underestimate what a powerful tool attraction is. Plus, having a new understanding of the terrain gave me a lot of new material (Alia, you'd better be looking forward to your return, because if I take nothing else out of this experience it's that.) Not to go into too much depth, every time I touched her, I had, like, a sense-memory of my times as Anne-Marie, and it was... a very intense experience.

When we finished, she breathlessly intoned to me, "You have no idea how long I've waited for something like that. Andrew isn't very interested in me anymore. I think he may be off women, but he keeps me around for his image." How romantic.

"I hate to tell you, Todd, because I know as soon as I tell you about myself you'll be gone. You'll have everything you want from me, you'll have no reason to return. But fair's fair. I'll give you what you really want to know, for your little internet website thing. Don't say you didn't get anything out of this." She rolls over and slips on a kimono, sitting on the edge of the bed, head turned to face me.

"I wasn't much younger than I am now. I was 39 years old the first time I went to that Inn. And I had nobody. I had nothing to my name in the whole world. Maybe you know something about loneliness, it does strange things to you. My mother was... ill, and I spent so much of my life looking after her that when she finally died, I didn't know what to do with myself. My best years were gone, my family was virtually nonexistent... no siblings, aunts and uncles turned their backs on me, dad nowhere to be found. Just me alone, burying my mother, and left by myself in the house where she raised me. I'm not saying what I did was right, but I didn't know what else to do. I was broke and I never wanted to see the house again." She had a haunted quiver in her voice as she continued.

"So I burned it. I let it burn to the ground and I went to Maine to hide, to gather myself up, to figure out my next move. Believe me, as soon as it was done, I snapped out of it, I wondered what I had done, I was horrified with myself. But what was done was done, and I had to decide how to proceed. And then I was given a gift, Todd. I was given a new body, a new life, right in my hour of need. As far as I was concerned, it wasn't random, it was release. I was set free from the burdens of my old life and given a clean slate. That's why I didn't want you to go back, Todd, because I thought... I just thought it was a miracle, what happens there. I guess you know better."

By this point, I'm fed up and ready to leave. I start dressing. "Yeah. Not a miracle, Donna. Peoples' lives get deeply and often irreversibly ruined because of that Inn. Did you ever think about the woman who was probably in prison for arson because of what you did? Where's her miracle, Donna?"

Before she could answer, I said "Fuck it" and was gone.

So there it is, Donna's story. I never even got to hear her real name, but I don't suppose it matters. If I ever felt like I would regret not staying as Anne-Marie, not giving in and living that life, I think those feelings are completely gone. It's a bit of a relief to know she was always a psycho even before the inn.

I'm just worried now that I've, like... destabilized her. She knows about the Inn and it doesn't seem like she cares much about other peoples' well-being. I hope she doesn't do something crazy someday.

Well, I can worry about it, but... I guess it's out of my hands. Time to move on.

-Todd

Cliff/Tori: The next steps

I've been hiding out this week. I feel like if I don't go out, don't leave this room, don't move, don't be seen, it isn't really real. As if I can just shut my eyes and won't feel female anymore. I haven't even felt like writing about it because that means facing it. But I can't avoid it, can I? I'm in this for the long haul.

I don't know anybody here, I don't have anything to do, I'm trapped. Hiding turned out to be the worst thing. I'm stuck in Tori's room, going through her things.

I guess she'd been through kind of an... upheaval in her life. She's 22, she was working as a hair stylist, but was fired from her salon. Unable to find a new job and running low on money, she moved back in with her parents. There are still a ton of moving boxes around here. I've looked through them for some clue as to who this girl is that I'm supposed to be. One box was full of old magazines. Vogue, Seventeen, that sort of thing. I feel like, if I flipped through them, I'd get some clue as to how to be Tori, but... I don't know. It doesn't interest me. Being a girl doesn't interest me, reading about hair and make-up and clothes definitely doesn't interest me.

Back on topic. Tori had packed up her life and moved in with her parents, and somehow met Roberto. I think her plan was to shack up with him after Maine, even though they hadn't known each other long. He must've seemed like a pretty stable guy, from what I've heard from Alia.

Yeah, I'm keeping in contact with Alia. She....... He was good enough to forgive me for making a pass at her when we first met. I feel really dumb about that. It really wasn't even my usual technique. I'm not that guy. Well, I'm not any guy right now. (God that was lame, I can't even laugh about this yet.)

So I've been sulking around the house all week, and Tori's mom and dad have kind of kept their distance, but I feel like they don't like it. I don't blame them I guess. As far as they can tell, their daughter seems like she's just given up on life, no drive to regain her job or even leave the house, or even speak to them. I've made small talk here and there, they're nice people, but I have yet to attempt a real conversation about this... arrangement. Like I said, I'm hiding, from them in particular.

Tori has two siblings. An older brother, Ken, who is obviously out of the house, and a younger sister, Mae, who is turning 16, and of course, lives here. I don't think she cares for Tori being back. So I've gotten the stinkeye from her at the dinner table too. I eat mostly in my room.

I don't know what to do. I've got to find something to do with myself. If I just sit here in this dim, box-filled room watching Seinfeld re-runs I'm going to go crazy (as if I haven't already.)

So right now my plan is to get out and find a job. I guess, you know, not a career or anything, just something I can do to earn some money while I'm here, to get me out of the house and keep my mind occupied. I don't care if I have to flip burgers or pour coffee or what. I'm a relatively smart, experienced man in a pretty good-looking girl's body. Someone's gotta want me.

But damn... where to start?

Alia/Rob: Help yourself.

As you know by now, we were only at the Inn for about a day after the transformation. It was a harrowing day and I'm still not totally settled from it. This is all so new, being in a strange town away from familiar faces and sights. Being in a strange body with parts I'm not familiar with...

Well, I'm familiar with the parts, but not from this angle. Having a penis is a very... novel feeling. I don't want to say "overrated" because a lot of women have this idea that peeing standing up would be so cool, but I still sit, basically on instinct. And I could use more control over erections, but I'm hoping that will come in time because I don't hear too many men complaining about it past puberty.

And shaving. God, that's going to be lame, but necessary.

Well by the end of that first day, people were still confused and scared, and irritated with George and Jan for attempting to provide answers but not being able to answer everything. I was very lucky I had Todd to help me through it. The person I really feel bad for is Cliff.

I don't know how much influence the Inn has in how it transforms people. If what Todd was telling me is true, it's based on physical location. There must be more to it than that - when does the "transformation" begin? When does one body officially become another, and where is that "data" stored? - but it's the most sensible answer. So the randomness, or lack of randomness, yields some very daunting results. Men become women, lovers become siblings, people age or change race, or get geographically scattered. Strangers become companions...

What Cliff didn't tell you is that Tori, the woman he became, was at the Inn with Rob. They're both from Philly, they were lovers, although why they had two rooms not one, I can only guess. Maybe it was a booking issue. Maybe Tori needed her privacy.

It was my job to drive her back to Philly, to drop her with her new family. As overwhelmed as I was by the whole experience, Cliff took it far harder. She kept talking about that first time we met, before the change, when I asked to switch rooms and he (at the time "he,") tried to use it to get sex.

Not the best first impression.

But I felt bad for him after the change. I can tell he's not really the frat boy type, he was trying to put on an act because his friends make it work. Ironically, I suppose, you find out who someone really is after they become someone else.

The entire ride, which lasted about 9 hours with stops, she obsessed over that first conversation. If it works the way Todd said, if Cliff gave me the room that first night, we'd both have our proper parts and could deal with it from there. I'd be Tori and Cliff would be Rob. That's true, sure (probably) but how could he have known? How could anyone? Yeah, it was obnoxious, but it's not like he was obligated to give me the room. All I wanted was a damn ocean view.

So I dropped her off, leaving my contact information so that we can help each other as best we can. I've just been hanging around Rob's place for the last few days, trying to get the feel for it. I've tidied up a bit, trying to take some ownership of it. It's a bit of a sty. Clothes all over the place, a rank "lived-in" smell I hope I'll get used to. Eating his food, a lot of which went bad over his extended vacation. Reading old blog entries.

I'm still trying to wrap my brain around this "Todd/Anne-Marie" thing. Reading his old posts, it sounds so much like him, so much more than he did when I thought Deb was him. I feel like an idiot for not seeing it, but there's the curse of the Inn to blame for that.

Overwhelming really is the word. I want to struggle, I want to be safe and familiar and sane, but there's no way that can happen so for now I've got to go with the flow.

Now I just need to figure out what I'm going to do with myself. Rob's a high school teacher, which means I've got nearly 2 months to myself.

Well, I helped myself to some of his beer. That'll help pass time...

-Alia

Ashlyn: Is this all my fault?

Damn.

I didn’t think anything would come of it. It seemed so harmless--but I should have known better. I've been dealing with "my secret admirer" - the man/woman/demon, for all I know, that we've taken to calling Pygmalion - for longer than any of the rest. Not always wisely—obviously--but I've seen enough to know better. But I also accepted my new life much earlier than everyone I know in the same situation (except maybe Jessica), and being Ashlyn is something I'm invested in, in all its details.

Art's a sweetie - she called me today, as soon as her interview with the police was over, to warn me. She figured it was a long shot, but if something had happened to one person who's been to the Inn, and another was falsely implicated, she figured it could involve all of us, or at least more than her and Liz.

She didn't know how right she was. It involved at least one more. It involved me.

A year and a half ago, Pygmalion sent me a DVD which was basically a sex tape. It scared the hell out of me at the time, but after a few days, I realized that was silly. So the original Ashlyn had made a sex tape. Big deal. I knew she'd been promiscuous, and it wasn't any big secret from the rest of the world. So what if Matt found out? It was from at least a year and a half earlier.

Of course, I didn't figure the man was anybody important. It turns out he was. Nobody I'd recognize, me being from Texas and the guy not being very well-known outside of Providence. Maybe not even inside Providence, but he's married to money and not interested in his infidelities becoming well known. So that's hanging over my head for a year when I get another letter, asking me to do one little thing: Just get "Penny" and Ray into a social situation every now and again.

What's the harm in that? Art would probably appreciate it, even though she would never do it herself.

If I'd known it was going as far as it did, I would have told Art what I'd done, especially since I'd seen how on edge Liz has been. But nothing seemed to have come of it. I was waiting for another letter, since this bit of manipulation didn't seem to accomplish anything. But...

I'm worried. Pygmalion, as far as we can tell, works by influence, setting things up in ways that are nearly untraceable. Was I the first step in some sort of Rube Goldberg device that ended with Liz killing Ray in a jealous rage?

I hope not. But that's the way it looks.

-Lyn