Tori C: Weekenders

So much has happened to me in the month of November, I've had to take a day off at the end of it all just to recuperate. One the one had it feels like just a neverending crush of status quo, day in and day out working and living, but on the other hand, a couple of big changes. I guess this is the sort of thing that I save up for when I finally decide to write here.

I've been uncomfortable with this arrangement between Leo and me for some time. A purely sexual relationship, without any passion or commitment was the most convenient arrangement for me but every time I leave his place, I learn a little more that this is not what I want. I don't want to be shoved out the door while I'm pulling my nylons up. I don't want to be alone on my girlfriends' "date nights" because Leo's playing Call of Duty and doesn't want me around. I want someone to play COD with!

So after writing my last post I had given myself a lot to think about. I can't keep up this purely sexual relationship. I wasn't that kind of guy and I'm really not that kind of girl. So I was kind of in a daze, not even really responding to Leo's texts for like the first week or so of November while I was writing it. My cell would buzz inside my purse so often certain other co-workers started joking I was bringing my vibrator to work (which is not fair since I've never even used one.) So I was dreading even checking my texts when I was on the ride home... and to my surprise, I got one from Buddy. "In New York thru New Yrs. Come visit!"

I can't even describe how I felt when I read that. Like... when I was a guy and a girl I liked would give me a little attention, this was 10x that. My heart fluttered and I got embarrassed for getting so worked up over a simple little text, but my mind kept turning over the implications. I know Buddy's wanted to be in a relationship with me and tried to convince me to try something long distance, but at the time I was so clouded up by this whole thing with Leo that, well, it just didn't seem worth it.

Now, I think I'm ready. So I went to visit him on the next weekend, arriving in NYC on the 13th. We went out for a walk and basically had a really great several-hour conversation, beginning with The Walking Dead and ending with him recommending that I get around to reading The Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy (maybe someday.) He showed me around "his neighbourhood," which basically consisted of the block around his hotel, dinner, and a movie.

We went to see Due Date. The movie was pretty funny, although every time I laughed at something guyish (example: the Zack Galafianakis character masturbating himself to sleep) I could see him out of the corner of my eye make a quizzical face. Like just because I have boobs, I'm not supposed to find that funny. On the subway ride back he was quiet about it, but when we got to the hotel, I edged toward the topic by pointing out how funny it was (in hindsight it wasn't that funny, but I did laugh at it.) He kinda averted his eyes and says, "Yeah, that was uh, a funny gag, I guess."

Egging him on a little, I nudged his shoulder and asked "You ever need to do that to get to sleep?"

He started to blush, like a kid caught by his parents. "Nnnn...ot really... that much..."

I smirked. "Hey, no need to be embarrassed. Everyone does it."

He twisted his mouth oddly, trying to figure out how to react, whether I was kidding him or we were really talking about that. "Probably not everyone..."

"Well, everyone in this room does."

"Heh, heh... yeah..."

"Buddy..."

"Yeah?"

"What am I doing here?"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean, I didn't come here to have dinner at the hotel restaurant and see a Bromance. What are we doing?"

"I guess I thought we could hang out, and..."

"And?"

Still flustered, he admitted, "I don't know..."

"You don't know? Buddy, what do you see when you look at me?"

Again, he stammered a while -- cute, but eventually irritating -- before I coaxed him into saying, "Look. when we first met, I thought you were... different. I thought you were just a really hot girl who knew enough about stuff I liked that I could talk to you. And that first night, I thought I could get some and then you'd move on past me and it would just be a cool story. And then I got to know you and see how cool you were, and... I got nervous. It's like, why would you really want to be with me? And I started to think you were putting me off as a way of... like, politely turning me down, so... I don't know, Tori. What are we doing?"

"I'll tell you what we're doing. Buddy, when you texted me to come down here, I felt something I haven't felt in a long time. I wasn't putting you off, I was just... nervous. I have some issues, and it's stuff I'm working on, but having you nearby will definitely help. So look at me." I took his hands and put them on my shoulders. "I'm not wearing a push-up bra for my health. And I'm not wearing this top because I like it when a breeze blows down my cleavage and makes my nipples stand up. And I didn't shave so I could keep my skirt on all night."

I feel like the forward approach may have been a bit intimidating, but I'm glad I did it because one of us had to be the guy, and I've learned a thing or two about being assertive since being with Leo.

I took my top off. He buried his face in my breasts like he'd never been happier to be anywhere. I unclasped my bra and let him feel them while we laid down on the bed. Things started to happen pretty quickly after that...

It's hard to believe that only a few months ago I'd never been with a guy, and I'm already on my second one. I mean, It felt different, and I sort of had to lead Buddy through all this, but at least we know where we stand now.

It's not like with Leo. It's not all about the sexual fulfillment, it's about company, and even as far away as New York, I still feel closer to him than I have to any man I've known since becoming Tori.

I woke up the next morning next to him, feeling like things had really changed. It's been a long road in getting here, a lot of wondering what kind of transition I was going through, from Cliff to Tori, how far it would take me away from where I started and how it would feel. I'm still uncertain, but it's the kind of uncertainty you feel when you're going through anything... not a paralyzing, life-altering feeling like when you first wake up this way, but just the way it is when you're starting to see you're finally making the right decisions.

I looked over at him. His eyes were just fluttering awake. When he opened them and looked over at me, I smiled. He smiled back and kissed me. I told him we should go for breakfast. It was Sunday morning and I wanted to spend a little time with him before heading back to Philly.

A fair bit's happened since then, but mostly stuff you could figure out from the tone of this post. I've visited him every weekend since then, except Thanksgiving, which so far has been, well... a different matter. As for me and Leo, that's done, and I'll explain how in my next post.

Max: Where it began

You already know a lot about my trip to Maine this past July, and someday I'll work up to explaining what brought me there, because Alia there's a lot those posts don't say about me, both good and bad. But it's almost been a whole month since I promised I'd start writing in here and you haven't heard hardly a peep out of me. It's harder than I thought.

I'll start with the night of the 25th, when I became Max. As you can imagine, I didn't sleep well that whole week. I had switched rooms with Roger, a married man who had stayed behind because he was having problems with his wife and because, I think, he thought he had a shot with me. I want to make it perfectly clear that I never gave him the impression I was willing to let him cheat on his wife with me. After all, we weren't even in the same room that night. How I got him to trade rooms with me, well, that's maybe a different matter.

The point was, this body was meant for him, and who knows what he would have done with it.

Once he gave me his room, there was no turning back. I immediately sought the suitcase. I found a gym bag with a couple of changes of clothes haphazardly tossed in, and no letter or ID around. I dumped out the bad and found Men's jeans and well-worn black t-shirts. I wondered if it was too late. There was no way of knowing who Roger was going to turn into, and I wondered if I had made a mistake, now that I was certain what sort of person I was going to be.

The whole bag was laundered and neatly folded, so it seemed like someone must have taken care of this for Max. It still smelled faintly of detergent. Out of curiosity, I stripped down to my bra and panties and dressed myself in the man's clothes. The jeans came down past my feet and had no hope of staying up without a belt, being very roomy in the crotch. I've worn boyfriends' clothes before, so I could guage how big of a guy Max was from how loose his shirt was on me. My last boyfriend was 6'1 compared to my 5'4 self and modest chest. Max's shirt wasn't as billowy on me.

I spent the night turned on my side, as usual unable to sleep. Around 2:15, I felt my heart starting to beat faster. The hairs on my arms stood up. I can't even describe what it's like to feel hair pull itself into your head, it's like a tingling, like a super-thorough rinse but... inside your scalp.

I was wearing my pajama bottoms and a tank top. I thought the tank would be stretchy enough to survive my metamorphosis, as I only had a vague idea of what my new physique was like. Luckily, Max was a slender guy with slim shoulders. My breasts stiffened and flattened themselves against my torso. It was like losing a limb, to be perfectly honest. But that was nothing compared to the feeling of... being turned inside out.

I didn't see it happen. The whole time I had my eyes clenched shut, mentally chanting "Make it stop, make it stop, make it stop," my palms resting flat against my chest. It wasn't painful, it wasn't erotic, it just slowly, slowly, emerged from me, this alien device in my pants.

When it was over with, I curled back over on my side, flannel pants tight against my thighs and waist, now not reaching the bottom of my calves and tightened all around me. My feet were bare and my toenails were now protruding and scraping against the comforter. I didn't even know what my face looked like, but my first instinct was to rub it and see how recently-shaved it was; there was just a faint wisp of stubble. I couldn't bring myself to get out of bed. I was seized by a deep, sudden feeling of regret for leaving my life behind.

But in the morning, all I could think was "What's done is done." More pressing issues were about to come up.

I was examining my new face when Alia knocked on my door. As Max, I'm thin and taller than I was as Sam, but still under 6 feet. I have a strong jawline, good facial structure... really, he's quite a handsome guy, except he looked and felt at the time like a bit of a dirty lowlife. I was already sweaty and bristling with body hair on my arms, legs, armpits and chest. Not thick, not unappealingly so, just... it was different. It irritates when you're not used to it.

I tested out my expressions, moving the muscles of my face to see what I looked like surprised, angry, happy... how straight my teeth are (not overly) how my nose looked in profile. Whether my Adam's apple stuck out enough. I tried to angle myself in the bathroom mirror to check out my own ass, but I couldn't get a good look.

It's weird, though, it didn't feel like I'd grown, like my hands and feet had gotten bigger, but holding my flats up to my new foot, it was clear I'd gotten some serious bulk. I marveled at how tiny all the clothes I'd packed as Sam now appeared in my hands. How I stood taller in the mirror.

When Alia saw me, she told me I still stood and walked like a woman, but that I would probably re-learn that in time. By now it feels like I have. Looking down at her when she came to my door I was more impressed with how much taller than her I was (head and shoulders) than say, how attractive she is. She's really pretty, but at the time it didn't occur to me that I was a male looking at a female. At that time I still didn't know who I was or who, if anyone I was with.

This was the result of more room-switching before us. In the next room were the bodies of Tanya, Max's girlfriend, and Melanie, her sister. The room I was in had belonged to Melanie, but Max had taken it while Tanya looked after her in their room, because Melanie had over indulged in booze. They'd had the presence of mind to move Max's luggage over, but not his wallet, which was in with Tanya's stuff. So when a short dark-haired girl showed up at my door later that day holding a wallet, I was glad to meet her.

This was just after Alia's somewhat embarrassing attempt at a speech. They'd seen me when I made my brief cameo, and recognized me from the mysterious wallet left in their room. "Tanya" introduced herself and brought me over to her room next door to meet her "sister."

The sisters are just a year or so apart, with Tanya being the younger one. They look similar enough, but Tanya is a bit heavier. I followed her next door where the other girl was sitting on the bed looking shameful, miserable, pensive. Sulking. She was wearing a Men's white button up over a plain tee and cargo shorts, which all obscured her form. I could just barely discern the dark outlines of her nipples, they were poking through a bit. "Tanya" explained, she and Melanie were a couple (I don't really see the use in revealing their names) and it had dawned on them that they were now sisters. Not a pleasant development for them. They showed me their letters, and mine, which basically read, "Max McGill: Good luck." Most of the details of my new life were outlined in Tanya's letter. I asked if they were okay with hanging around here a while. They agreed.

Melanie was quiet the rest of the night while Tanya and I spoke in hushed tones. Not having been gender-changed, she was in a better frame of mind to take control of the situation while Mel sat on the bed with her legs curled up running her fingers through her hair.

"We're not going to Canada," Tanya told me, "[Melanie] has an important job in Washington and we can't let someone else take his life."

I joked, "What are you guys, the Obamas?"

Tanya didn't laugh, but grumbled "No. Not D.C., Washington State. He's an air traffic controller at Sea-Tac. You think the new person in his body is going to know how to do that?"

"No," I sighed, "But do you think they're just going to let that girl walk in and claim that's her job?"

"When he proves he can do it--"

"Look at her!" I said, "She's a wreck. The last thing she needs right now is the safety of thousands of passengers on her mind."

"Stop it!" she said, "Stop calling my boyfriend a she. It's still him in there, isn't it?" I nodded. "Don't you dare tell me what he needs. What we need is to get back to normal, and we can only do that back home."

"This is not a good idea," I told her. "It's not going to work, and you might risk your ability to get back to your own body."

She snapped, "Did you get your own body back? No? Then you don't know what you're talking about, so stay the hell out of our lives."

I wanted to hit her. Wanted to throttle her. I wasn't prone to violence as a woman but that didn't mean I couldn't get frustrated and lost me temper. I stood up and banged my fist on the desk. It hurt but I didn't let on.

"The two of you are making a huge mistake. For the time being, you belong in New Brunswick, and we can figure out a strategy from there. I'll be here for the rest of my reservation if you change your mind."

She looked at me coldly as I left the room. They were gone the next day.

Next time I get around to writing in this, I'll tell you about my trip up to Canada and where things went from there.

Tori C: What it's like

There's been some request for me to describe the sensation of having sex with Leo. I've put it off because I wasn't sure I was ready to get graphic about it. Since this whole thing has started, I've struggled to put it into words, and using phrases like "We did it," has helped me kind of get around that, but I think there comes a time when you need to stop dancing around it and get into it.

So I'm giving myself license to get explicit here... and if that makes you uncomfortable, just scroll down to where it says I'm done.

Before I get to Leo specifically, I want to go back to the first time I ever thought of a man as being attractive. I wasn't really sure what, if anything, it meant at the time, but now that I've had a year to think about it, I can sort of admit that it started in Buffalo when I went to visit my old body.

I was waiting for Willie at the bar when I ran into Justin, my best friend for years. Seeing him without him knowing it was me... it was weird. He was dating Randi at the time, but he was putting this vibe out there like he was still on the lookout. A little later I found out he knew ahead of time that I was Tori, that I was "with" Cliff, but the energy he was putting out got to me. He exuded confidence.

I spent much of the evening avoiding eye contact with Willie. My eyes darted back and forth between Justin and Randi. His arm around her, her head on his shoulders... she was wearing a light top and her nipples were just poking through ever so much. He stroked her hair. Suddenly I was noticing how handsome he was... the stubble he'd let grow, his strong jawline, his eyes... I tried to pack away these thoughts and focus on Randi, tried to remember what made her so good looking.

Make no mistake, she's attractive, but when I tried to let me mind play with that, put myself in HIS shoes, with my fingers running through her hair, it got really... complicated. It put me off. But it didn't TURN me off... I wanted to be both of them and I wanted to be with both of them.

Later on that trip, Willie and I almost... well, we messed around a bit. I had felt the need to test myself because of all this new information my brain was processing. The gates were already opening when I really started to look at him in my body. And I didn't mind what I saw.

Maybe he wears my face better than I did, but I didn't see anything wrong with the way he looked. In fact, between the rather masculine Justin and the cute, girlish Randi, "Cliff," clean shaved, a little baby-faced, was a nice middle option. I began to wonder why I had ever had problems with girls. A little later I decided it must've just been because I was myself... which set me down a bit of depression. But let's flash forward.

It's late in the summer. I can pretty much admit to being into guys, and whatever I think of girls I'm not as dedicated as I once was. I mean, I sure as hell wouldn't mind getting a look at Sara naked, but I wouldn't want to date her. And that's when Leo and I started hooking up. He was in the right place at the right time.

When it started to get good, here's what it's like:

To start, I'm sitting on his bed. I'm fully clothed, he's fully clothed. He stands in front of me, unbuttoning his shirt. I run my fingers over her stomach and chest. He's thin, with just a few patches of hair. I hold his belt-loops. He leans in and kisses me. I feel my back straighten. A tingle goes through my body. I love the thought of us breathing heavily into each other, just panting and moaning.

I take off my top. My brastraps fall over my shoulders. He unclasps it with a quick motion. When I bare myself, he takes a moment to look at them. I don't blame him, I do too. Then he looks me dead in the eyes, and all I want is for him to touch me. He lays me back on the bed. The longer we go at it, the more creative he gets. First he has his hand on my breast, gently massaging as he kisses me. Then he moves his fingers away and starts to stroke the side of my breast, running his tongue down my chest and circling my breast.

That's when I get wet. I can feel my knees shivering. I feel like I'm so close to something, I can't stand being teased.

I stave off my own feeling by turning my attention to him. I unzip his pants and reach down. Not surprisingly, he's hard. I don't really do anything with his dick once I have it in hand... I guess I've got a mental block against that, but it doesn't stop me from handling it just a little. Sometimes I think to myself, "How bad would it be just to try putting my mouth on it?" but I never cross that threshhold, even though I'm willing to go further.

Soon he has me on my back, and I'm letting myself moan uncontrollably for him. I remember when I was a guy, I'd jack off quietly... there always seemed to be something so unappealing about letting out a pleasure moan as a guy, something weak... but since I've taken on the female persona, I don't care anymore. I like what he's doing and I know to let him know.

He pulls my panties down and moves his mouth to the base of my crotch. I don't let him stay there too long, because as good as it can be, it just makes me want to go faster. Somewhere in all this we find the time to make sure he's got protection on -- I've been taking the pill since the summer, but it doesn't hurt to double these things, and when I give the signal, he pulls himself over me and I sprad my legs, trembling, moist, letting him in.

For a few minutes, we move in unison, slowly. I'm embarrassed, so I close my eyes or turn away, but it's so absorbing that I can't stop myself from screaming out, "ungh, ungh." I move with him and we go faster... the feeling of having another person inside me is so intense, because the parts in there are so sensitive, and I've never used an item (eg, a dildo) to reach, only getting what my fingers could find. With every thrust, a radiation of pleasure that leaves me weak flushes through me until finally I feel myself come.

I let him keep going, though, because there's nothing to stop him. I'm not shriveling away or going limp, I'm just... good. And it's not long before he is too. He rolls off me and we lie on top of the sheets for a moment, his arm wrapped around me. I can't stand up, my legs are trembling, so we just lie there and drift off, leaving the clean-up for later.

That's how it was. At the best of times. Here's what it's more often like:

I go over to his place. He hasn't cleaned up, there's usually dishes here and there, clothes on the floor. He's on the couch playing XBox. In a past life I might've been more interested in sitting on the couch with him and playing Call of Duty, but we both know why I'm there.

He wants to finish his game so I go to the bedroom, undressing as I go. I leave my clothes in a heap by the bed. Sometimes I wait a while, naked, in his bed, before he gets around to me. I don't like getting too much time to think about what I'm about to do. I prefer to get caught up in the moment. I'm far from turned on, but I'm still "willing," if that makes any sense. I get myself warmed up.

He comes in and disrobes. I remind him to put a rubber on as he disrobes, slipping out of his pants, lifting his shirt over the bed and pulling his socks off.

He's plenty hard -- part of me wonders if it's me or the video game -- so I just lie back and let him go to it. In this scenario, there's not a lot of kissing and touching, just a willing submission to his need. I try to get us into some kind of rhythm, but he just goes at his own pace, jutting up into me sharply, awkwardly humping. A few unsatisfactory minutes later, he's done. I wonder why I even bothered coming by. Sometimes I try to get him on the bottom so I can make it last a bit longer and do some work of my own, but he likes the dominant position and I'm more comfortable this way anyway.

He rolls off me. Sometimes I try to complete the mission myself, sometimes I just lie there.

Sometimes he falls asleep. Sometimes he gets up, gets dressed again and goes back to his Xbox.

I don't stay the night. He insists we don't sleep together because we're not a couple and he doesn't want to complicate things. We don't have one of those arrangements where I leave a toothbrush and a pack of tampons at his place. He's never even been to my place. I'm not sure I'd want him to.

So after maybe a half hour of activity and aftermath, I roll out of his bed. I reach down onto the floor and pick up my panties, unbunch them and pull them on. I re-clasp my bra and dress myself again.

I gather my things, grab my purse, say a polite "thank you," and leave, waiting for one of us to be in the mood to text again. This has gone on for the better part of 2 months. I slink off into the night, and go home to my own bed, alone.

When I put it that way, it's a wonder I haven't quit yet, but the truth is somewhere between these two extremes. It can be very good, but it can be very impersonal. It can be convenient, but it can also be un-fulfilling. In my more clear-headed moments, I feel it would be smartest to end this thing with Leo and take a chance with Buddy. But just as often, I'm thankful for something that, if not perfect, is easy to manage and that oftentimes does feel good.

I feel guilty sometimes for being too comfortable with what I've got. I also sometimes feel guilty for not liking it as much as I should. I don't know. I'm really mixed up.

Maybe it can't last much longer, but for now, that's what it's like.

Max: Ready to talk

This isn't easy for me. Opening up to people. Back in the day, I learned quickly to keep my mouth shut about my life because I knew nobody would believe me, and the people who knew about my condition weren't in much of a state to care.

My name is Max. It used to be Samantha, and before that... before that isn't important and I'd rather move past it. I've spent a lot of the last 5 years trying to figure out who I'm supposed to be. I still don't know.

What I do know is that this past July, I came back to Maine to give up being Sam. My time in her life was scary as hell and even after years of adjustment, I still wanted to get out. Maybe it wasn't smart, especially not knowing where I was going to end up.

I ended up as a guy. Max. It definitely wouldn't have been my first choice, but any woman should be able to recognize the advantages to being male. Alia told you all about this, or some variation on it. Here's some stuff she didn't tell you.

Max wasn't alone. And he wasn't really forthcoming with details about his life. He wrote half a page that amounted to "I dunno, do whatever." Not so succinctly, but basically gave me the distinct impression that he did not give a shit about what happened to his life. I guess wherever he is, he feels like he's better off, selfish jerk.

But he wasn't alone. He was traveling with his girlfriend Tanya and a third girl, Tanya's twin sister Melanie. They were in the same room that night because Melanie was sick from drinking. Yes, I know that about those two, but Max wouldn't even tell what his own mom's name is.

Anyway, I've decided to post this because... well, it's complicated. I felt like the time was right to get over my tensions about speaking about myself. Even when I was at the Inn, with people who had been transformed, I found it difficult to open up and I don't want to be like that anymore. It's helped that I've had to sort of guide the new Tanya and Melanie through this experience. I'll tell you more about them when I'm ready. For now it just helps that I've opened the lines of communication.

Thanks
-Max

Tori C: Wonder Woman

Sometimes I feel like a superhero without any powers. Unless you count a nice set of breasts as a power (as some do.) The way I came to be who I am seems like something out of an old comic, something Stan Lee might've come up with if he was feeling especially perverse. Mild-mannered John Clifford spends a night in a cursed inn and wakes up with the ability to menstruate! Sigh.

I was considering getting out my "Sexy Robin Hood" costume again, but since I'm feeling more like a girl this year than last, I thought I'd try something different. And by different, I mean "feminine without being slutty."

We settled on a trio of comic heroines, at my insistence. Well, I would've picked the Wonder Woman costume without either of them going along with the theme, but they did want to theme it up, since I was going to actually go with them this year. Raine went as Supergirl, and Sara as Robin. I guess at various points there have been female Robins, but it seems weird to market it in an official manner. Then again... Sexy Robin Hood last year.

Actually, due to the chill, I wore some black tights under my star-panties... appropriately enough, Wonder Woman herself recently got some pants, although actually explaining this to people was tricky, so I let them chalk it up to not wanting to freeze my ass off.

It was nice to go out with the girls and dance and have fun and escape my own private relationship drama. Even though Leo and I hook up twice a week or so, we're still not comfortable with the idea of being in a relationship with each other, so we just leave it at that. I have to admit, every time I leave his place, I do feel guilty about participating in this without any real emotional investment. I'd love so much to have sex with a guy I felt I could spend time with.

A little while after our last meeting, Buddy dropped me an e-mail. It was long and rambly, but the gist of it was how much he missed spending time with me, and he felt there was something between us, and maybe I might like to try a long distance relationship. At least until he got back to Philly.

I was reading it, feeling this odd sense of excitement and disappointment, not unlike the feelings I first felt after transforming (as miserable as it was to transform, I can admit at least a little part of me thought how cool it was that this was even happening. Those were fleeting moments, but they happened.) How awesome, this guy I actually kinda like really does want to spend time with me, even after I was so bipolar toward him in the Spring. But all this experience with Leo has made me really want a physical relationship. Settling for long distance is something Cliff (the guy, not the, uh, remainder of him in me) would have settled for. It's selfish as hell, I know, but I'm not willing, right now, to put myself through the strain of long distance. I don't even know if I'm mature enough to handle it, or if I might get drunk on my own self-confidence and take his absence as a license to flirt, to shop around, hurt him even more than I already have. I mean, am I making any sense? Is it wrong to want to protect him this way? Or am I just a bitch?

I'm a bitch. I feel like one, anyway. I know how hard it is to be a man with bad luck with women and I still play that part instead of doing what I wish a girl would've done for me. I've got him twisting in the wind right now, saying only that I'm not willing to jump into something long distance... not that I'm not interested in him, and most definitely did not tell him that I'm currently having my needs satisfied.

Oh, Leo. I never know where I stand with that guy. He's not rude or mean or anything, he just seems so indifferent. I think this has already carried on longer than either of us expected it to, and maybe he's getting bored, but neither of us seems to want to stop. It's like... I used to work in this computer store, and every Thursday I'd oversee a shipment of hardware, and I'd make chit chat with the delivery guy, but I didn't want to go drinking with him, just wait until the next week to say hey what's up. So routine.

Well, when I put it that way, it seems totally unhealthy. And now Sara and Thom are fighting and spending time apart, while Raine and her Guy are getting more serious, the whole dynamic of our group is shifting.

So last night, the Halloween party, was a bit of measured chaos, where two of us were looking for guys but not looking to hook up. We found them, we danced, it was all pretty innocent. Then Thom showed up as Batman and they got back to pawing at each other, and suddenly it was like the last year hadn't passed, and I was back to being lonely Cliff in Tori's body. I was so disappointed in the evening... like, it wasn't a bad night, but I was just so emotional, that instead of calling Leo, I called Buddy, and we talked for an hour. And the question of starting a relationship never came up, we just talked. I swear, if I had some balls-- I mean guts, that is-- I would've just told him I'd be willing to try. But right now I'm not willing to give up what I've got and try something new. I suck at this.

Sorry for ranting. I'm all over the place. I've been composing this post over a whole evening while taking care of trick or treaters.

Bryan: Good Times, Bad Times

I haven't posted here since way before Todd and I got our bodies back. I used it as sort of an outlet when I was stressed out being Ellie and when I got my own body back the last thing I felt like I needed was a shoulder to whine on. No disrespect to Todd, because everything that happened with Alia, and the Erica LaFleur situation, he had a lot on his mind. So despite living under the same roof, he and I kind of drifted apart for a year.

Maybe it was the Crystal situation. I don't know how you guys feel about the way he told it... reading his old posts, I feel like I mainly got a fair shake. It's not like I always wanted to nail Alia, and having Crystal in her body enabled me to do that. I had literally never thought about it until Crystal showed up and we just sorta connected.

I'll spare you the details of how it happened. It started out as me just keeping an eye on her, and eventually it occurred to us that we might make a nice couple, and realistically I was probably the only person she could date without everyone going insane (her, Todd, and probably real Alia.)

It was probably the healthiest relationship of my life. She cooked and cleaned and I tried not to seem like a kid she was taking care of, but like, a partner. She made me want to be better. We both had steady jobs. It was a real damn adult relationship. But as Todd said, we both knew the detail: it was temporary.

I couldn't bloody well convince her to stay in Alia's body. I told her I wouldn't mind meeting the real her, but she was adamant that that not happen. I kept asking her why, but she wouldn't clarify for me. I pushed the issue a bit more, and we fought a bit toward the end, but I always made amends because the last thing I wanted to do was lose Alia's body along with Crystal. When she left, we were still on good terms, but the relationship was over.

It's been hard, though, being around Alia, especially when she's with Todd. A couple times, I've accidentally called her "Crys," and then felt like an asshole, even though she assures me it's an innocent mistake. The weird thing is, partway through my relationship with Crystal, she insisted I call her "Alia," just so that I didn't slip in public. I didn't want to go along with it, but Todd and I had the same understanding when he was Aunt Anne Marie.

My one salvation is the band. We don't have a name yet, but Todd and I have been rehearsing a lot lately. We don't have a drummer, since most of our drummer friends have scattered, some already in bands, some giving up music or moving away. That doesn't stop he and I from jamming on Zeppelin ("Good Times, Bad Times,") Metric ("Gimme Sympathy,") Third Eye Blind ("Semi-Charmed Life") and Hollerado ("Americanarama,") as well as a few originals we've been workshopping.

So anyway, here's what's happened. With Todd and Alia getting back together, the social circle has sort of firmed a rift, and on one side is the happy couple, and on the other is me and Shelby, Todd's co-worker, who was hanging out with us a lot before and after Alia got back. Eventually, she and I just started hanging out on our own, since getting the four of us together would probably just be too awkward. In fact it was a little awkward just to get a cup of coffee with this random 19-year-old so soon after my break-up with Crystal, but she's actually quite cool. We were out by Queen's Park the other day, having some coffee, when I started talking about Crystal in veiled terms. I actually used her real name, to differentiate her from the situation she thinks I'm going through with Alia and Todd.

See... I have her number. Well, a number. I have some contact info for Crystal, acquired when we were first looking into her background and I found out she was from Cleveland Heights, not Shaker Heights. She doesn't know I have it. She'd probably be pretty pissed if I used it. But I keep it on a card by my desk and I look at it often, wondering if I should call. I told Shelby this. Her advice:

"The past is the past, man. You've got to move forward. If it isn't meant to be, don't worry. There are plenty more women out there." I gave her a look, and she hastily added, "Not me, though. I have a boyfriend." Oh.

But the last thing I found out is... she drums. Oh, chick drummers.

Seriously, though, I asked if I could hear her sometime, and if maybe she'd consider joining up with me and Todd. She said she'd think about it, since she's been meaning to get a regular thing going with someone. Why not us, eh? Maybe if we have a drummer, we'll get gigs, and things will start being awesome. I have yet to tell Todd about this development.

-Bryan

Tori C: Real life intervenes

Life is tough and unfair. You don't have to tell me that. For the last year, I'm the one it's been unfair to. But lately, things seem to have leveled out for me, or at least reached a tentative agreement.

I had been complaining about being stuck in my routine (and about losing Cyndi as a friend) until acquiring Leo as a non-committal sexual-relationship-partner-type-thing. It's added the level of thrill that my life's been missing since, well, way before I was a girl.

It wasn't long before the girls started noticing my more upbeat attitude and quickly called me on it. It had been hard keeping the whole affair secret from them. It isn't that I didn't want them to know. I didn't want it getting back to Cyndi, but it seemed pretty obvious that if I told them "If you ever see Cyndi, don't tell her I'm screwing her ex-boyfriend." I just didn't want to deal with any of the possible outcomes of this being public knowledge. Didn't want Leo hanging out with us, didn't want them judging me for having casual sex, didn't want them to question why after a year of lack of interest in the opposite sex, I was suddenly happy to jump into this... and in one particularly paranoid, unlikely scenario, them realizing somehow that I was really a guy having sex with another guy.

(I'd like to reaffirm once again that it's been many months since I've thought of myself as "really a guy." I may be a guy again someday but I'm really not anymore.)

When I admitted it to them, it was with a lot of explaining and doubling back on myself. "It's not serious, you guys, we're just fooling around, we don't want to date or anything." They pointed out, rightly, that "I" had tended to fall hard for guys, very quickly, and that "keeping it casual" was not really "my" MO. (Which begs the question of what, exactly, she and Rob were supposed to be.) Raine in particular was judgmental in that even though she knew Tori could be mercurial toward guys, the "old Tori" at least pretended like a fling could be a permanent relationship. Sara defended me by saying at least I was being realistic. They then proceeded to compare notes on Tori's past relationships, their own past relationships, their current relationships, and a lot of other stuff I'm not properly informed about. In the end they agreed, more or less, that I wasn't doing anything wrong, but that I should prepare myself in case this ends badly. I told them I already was.

Jana and Ken got married yesterday. I want to write down all the hectic stuff that went into it from my side, but really it's just typical wedding stuff. Dress-shopping was a pain since this was the first time I've had to look for something formal. I got a nice, peach dress that billowed nicely in the autumn breeze... I looked rather pretty in it, if I do say so. The family and I all went in on some kitchen essentials for the Bride and Groom.

I was unexpectedly emotional at the reception. Looking over at Jana in her white dress, and her bridesmaids, I began to wonder if this lays ahead in my future. If I'm stuck as Tori -- which sometimes I remember is not yet the case -- it would logically be possible somewhere down the line. If I met the right guy. But it wasn't that long ago, including post-transformation, that it all seemed utterly impossible that I'd ever find anyone. I was sort of resigned to loneliness. The idea of someday trying on a while dress was both comforting and terrifying.

The day brought with it all sorts of stresses, including inebriated groomsmen looking to score with their buddy's emotional, technically-alone. I found protection with one of the bridesmaids, the only single one. We shared stories of dating disasters, which I mainly drew from Tori's diaries.

I told her I was seeing someone, sorta, but that it wasn't serious enough to want to bring him to a wedding. She grinned and said she knew what I meant.

I had actually made plans to meet up with Leo after the wedding, and I probably could've used it, but something got in the way. See, what I didn't mention is that for a while now, I've been in contact with Buddy. He had kept putting off replying to me, apparently out of nervousness (how sweet... and typical of him) but he finally got his wits together (with a glass of Jack Daniels) to reply. His work had brought him to Baltimore, 2 hours south of here, and it was possible that some weekend he could come back for a visit.

"Some weekend," as you might guess, turned out to be last night.

I had intended to visit with Buddy for only a little while and then go off to hook up with Leo, but Buddy and I got back into our "first date" rhythm and I suddenly really liked being around him again. He told me funny stories about people he'd met as a "nomadic graphic designer," and ribbed me about staying at the call center when I "obviously had better things ahead of me."

I felt the need to keep my fling with Leo out of it.

We even caught a showing of The Social Network (very good!) and got coffee before he admitted he had to get back to his friend's place to crash. I offered him my couch.

There was just a hint of an implication in that.

He declined, either being a gentleman or oblivious, insisting he had to get his stuff together and head back to Maryland in the morning, and he "knew how much I liked sleep" (this was a conversation we had long ago.) I hugged him goodbye, pressed him against me... and every inch of me was urging my lips to kiss him, but it didn't happen. I felt like he probably wanted it too, but the Leo thing, the wedding, my hormones... I'm maybe a bit too mixed up right now to take that kind of risk.

But it's really already destroyed my comfortable balance.

I was so put off that I texted Leo saying I wasn't feeling up to meeting that night. He simply said "fine."

Fine indeed. But I think things won't be fine much longer.

Tori C: Wanting it

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Todd: The High Road

I almost named this entry after a song by Matthew Good, "Us Remains Impossible." It doesn't literally describe the situation between me and Alia, but it's... it's not far off.

We've been sheepishly nudging our way back to coupledom for weeks, but between her trying to get her life back on track, me working, and the beginning of the school year, there's very little time for fun in Toddworld.

I'm back at University, trying to work off those last few credits to earn my bachelor's degree. There's no desperate need for this. I don't think it'll help me go further in my career, whatever it ends up being. If anything, it's just a way to stall for time while I figure out what I'm supposed to do with the rest of my life. I wish I had a more positive view on the situation, but some old negative feelings have been bubbling to the surface since I've re-enrolled. A lot of doubt.

Not to mention, Bry and I are still trying to work on musical pursuits. We've actually been working on a few new songs, and Bry in particular has had a burst of creativity apparently since getting back from the Inn, dating Crystal, and everything. Most tellingly is the refrain to his latest composition, "Temporary:"

You knew the deal
it wasn't real
it was onlyyyyyyyyyyyy
temporary.

I'd give you more, but I wouldn't want to spill too much, since it's a work in progress. He howls those lines with a kind of bitterness that suggest he's trying to convince himself. I haven't discussed it yet with him, but I suspect those are his feelings about Crystal. He's even more commitment-shy than I was, and it seems to be him raking himself over the coals for pushing Crystal back to the Inn. The riff he came up with is pretty intense.

Anyway, we've been working on stuff, rehearsing covers and the like, but I guess we're not ready to start begging for gigs yet. Bry doesn't want to do any shows unless we have a drummer, but most of our usual drummer-friends are otherwise engaged or not interested in the drama that seems to follow us around. Can't say I blame them, and they don't even know the half of it.

I should probably quit the music store job. It would free up a lot of time for school, music and of course Alia. But as painful as it is to keep doing a job you hate... it's money (which of course equals freedom and potential) and when I'm at that noisy, busy, chaotic-ass store, I feel more centered than I do anywhere else.

So basically I've taken this time to tell you "In case your wondering, life's tough." Suck it up, Todd. At least you're not anybody's mom anymore.

Haha, yeah. In my weaker moments, I fantasize about running away to the inn again, getting dropped in someone's life who already has their shit figured out. Old, young, male, female, I feel like at this point I could handle anything. Fake my way through a career. Become one of those "traveler" people Alia was describing back in July. Part of me could do it. Part of me would want to.

But that's the easy way, and for once I don't feel like doing that. I'm here, I'm committed, let's do that.

Oh, and Tori-- congratulations. This song's for you, girl. Whatever you end up doing with yourself (or others) in your time as Tori, that's your call, and don't let yourself forget that. you're in control, and I'm glad to see you acting like it.

-Todd

Tori C: Third.

Every time I try to tell this story, I stop myself. Maybe out of embarrassment, or confusion or over-analytical-ness. There's so much going on in my head even now that I can't put into words, so for now I'm just going to give you the facts.

I ran into a familiar face at the bar Friday night. I was not at my usual bar, I was somewhere else, with Daniel. I was worrying about how I'd be getting home when I noticed this guy: Leo, Cyndi's boyfriend.

The amount of irritation I felt at this point was unbearable. If he was there, I reasoned she must be nearby. I wanted to find her and scream at her, call her out for being a two-faced bitch. We've just been giving each other the cold shoulder at work, but having a few drinks in me made me somewhat belligerent. So I went over to his table and asked where she was. Demanded to know.

He said, laconically, that he didn't know, and took a sip. I asked why not, and he said "Probably because she's not my girlfriend, she's my ex."

That took the wind out of me.

I didn't know Leo very well, but on the occasions that I'd talked to him, I thought he was a good dude. Quite polite, kinda funny, a bit of a sci-fi fan. Someone I probably would've liked, as Cliff. But it takes a minute for rage to dissipate, so I just stood there in my skirt feeling awkward for a minute before he asked if I'd like to have a drink. It was last call and I was out of money.

When you're a girl, being out of money doesn't necessarily mean you don't drink any more.

He went over the general details of his break-up with Cyndi, which pretty much conformed to my opinion that she's just a bitch who isn't good with people. He wondered why he had put up with her so long, and I told him it's okay, guys often make fools of themselves for a hot girl who isn't worth it. I said that a number of guys had done that for me, thinking of Buddy in particular.

He said he disagreed that I "wasn't worth it." This was the first of a number of not-so-subtle flirtations between him and me.

He offered to split a cab back home. As we live in opposite directions, I made an alternative proposal, and asked whether he'd be interested in having a drink at my place. He declined, saying he had to be up early to go golfing the next day.

So he suggested his place.

In the cab on the way over, I had a lot of time to try to gather my wits and figure out what my endgame was. What did I hope to achieve? I still hadn't figured it out when we got to the door, even though he had his arm around me.

The moment we got inside, without hesitation, I kissed him. Why dance around it? Why stall? That was what I'd come for. That was what I wanted. I don't know why I wanted it or what it means that I wanted it, but there we were, his lips on mine, my neck bent up at his 6' face. His arms wrapped low around my hips, fingers just at the edge of my bum. A little voice in my head going "Go, girl!"

It wasn't terribly romantic. Maybe even a bit rushed. We were on his couch soon, making out like a couple of over-eager tenth graders (not that I'd know, I was more into computer club back then.) The whole time, part of my mind keeps going "What now, what next??" while the other part is screaming "More!!"

He indicated his bedroom. I said okay, let's go. When we got in, I began to undress, very hurriedly. I was down to my bra and panties when he said "Hold on. You know this isn't serious right?"

"Not serious?"

"I mean, just a fling. Casual. Rebound stuff."

"Oh. Yeah. Sure." It felt odd to me -- I don't know what I was expecting, or why I was disappointed that he didn't want it to be "serious." But I pushed that thought aside and went over to him. He was in his boxers. The sight definitely has a different effect on me than it used to.

I made a grab for it. His thing. Felt so silly, holding it from this angle, trying to treat it delicately. It was intimidating, and weird and... not wrong but just so unreal-looking from this angle. It was a perspective I've tried to imagine many times, but was still unprepared for.

I took a look at it. As hot as I was, the rational, over-analytical part of my brain had to break the moment. "Nnn... not that. not yet. Third. Third base. Okay?"

He looked at me, at first a little put-off, but ultimately accepting. "Okay." He pulled my panties off and put his head between my legs and... oh lord... I've never felt like such a girl, squealing and moaning, not necessarily because he was doing such a good job, but because he was there, not me by myself.

After a while, I began to feel guilty for the whole thing being one-sided. When I felt like he'd reached a good stopping point, I told him "okay!" and he pulled his head up. Then I had to figure out how to hold up my end of the bargain. I'd already ruled out one way. The other ways scared me just as much. Maybe I'm just naive, since other girls seem perfectly fine with this, and considering what he'd just done for me, reciprocation seemed polite.

With it looking me right in the eye, I made a split decision, and I... I licked it. Like an ice cream cone. I don't know if that's how it's supposed to be done, since I never even got one, but I stalled with that as long as I could, while I thought "Am I really just supposed to shove it in my mouth? Is that... do people like that?" Mostly, I just used my hand. And then after a minute, I began to think "Shit, he knows I'm doing it wrong, he totally knows!" and just as I was getting ready to bite the bullet (so to speak: I know you're not actually supposed to bite) he came. Just like that. A little bit got on me and I tried not to be too grossed out.

I just stared at it, as it went limp in my hand. How odd. It all felt so familiar, yet so far away. As he groaned quietly to himself my mind re-asserted itself and told me I had just made some kind of big step. There wasn't a whole lot of doubt that I'd enjoyed it, but it didn't stop me from wondering what it was all supposed to mean.

I ended up sleeping there, next to him, in my panties and undershirt. For half the night he kept his arm around me and I couldn't sleep. Then he slipped it out and rolled over to his other side and I was finally able to drift off. When I woke up, he had rolled back over and was poking me.

As he and I dressed, we discussed the terms of our, uh, actions. We decided it would be best if we didn't go talking about this, because neither of us wanted the drama that would follow, especially if it got back to Cyndi. Personally, even though Sara and Raine already think of me as a rather sexual being, I still felt like I'd be embarrassed if they knew what I'd done. It was one thing for them to have knowledge of the old Tori's deeds, but this new one is... well, I just didn't want to deal with it.

But it's done. Whether he and I will be doing it again, I don't know. He hasn't called. I'm kind of dreading it, if he does. It all happened so fast, I'm not sure what he thinks of me now, and if I regret anything, it's that this is the first time I've really fit the stereotype of what people think when they see me.

But I did enjoy the feeling of having someone physically... tending to me. I've resisted it so long because I'm so suspicious of what kinds of guys I've been attracting, but the game might be changed.

On Sunday, I sent an e-mail to Buddy. I had been thinking about him all weekend, about how close we came to being a thing, but because I was still almost-a-guy-again, I resisted. Now that that's not the case, I just... well, I wanted to check in on him.

He hasn't gotten back to me yet.

Tori C: The girl on the internet

A couple days ago, a commenter on my last post suggested I "Get up off that thing and do something till you feel better." This, in a way, is what happened. I retreated into the arms of my old friend, the internet.

I'll put it to you this way. When I became a girl, I made an attempt to keep my online persona active. Even though I had turned several of my old accounts over to Willy, I kept active on a few forums during the early months of my transformation.

Then, in early October, when I started feeling more comfortable as Tori, I began to leave the net behind. This was the inevitable byproduct of stuff that had happened way before I was Tori: comics lost their appeal to me when universe-spanning crossovers became the norm (Civil War/52/Crisis/etc). All the big franchise movies like LOTR and Dark Knight and Harry Potter were slowing to a trickle, and Battlestar ended, Heroes became pretty unwatchable, and suddenly my entire mindset of geekdom was a bit outdated. I stayed on those forums in a "what's new?" casual talk capacity, but as you can guess, my writing about myself was rapidly splitting off from what my reality was. Soon this blog became my only real internet activity. In December, when I saw Avatar, I was pretty disappointed with it, and wondered whether girlhood had actually erased the geeky part of my brain.

For a while after that, my internet usage became limited to this blog, MSN/Facebook, and the occasional Google search when I needed to learn something. Even then, I don't exactly blog here all the time, and I was so negligent to my Facebook account that when I saw one of Tori's tween-age male cousins at Mae's birthday, he complimented me on my Facebook profile pic... that is, a pic of Raine and Sara pretending to kiss my boobs!

(The point of this story: I didn't realize I had said cousin on Facebook, and my boobs have become such a prominent feature that no, of course I don't mind showing them off to the internet, albeit completely covered, you pervs.)

Then a few months ago, Danny (my gay friend) managed to get me to see Inception with him, despite my beliefs that I was no longer in that film's target audience. And my mind was so completely and utterly blown that I had to share it with someone. But my girlfriends weren't interested in hearing my theories about the dream-worlds in the film, and Danny and I kept getting into arguments. So I had to drag it out to the internet... only to find that the site I had last used as Cliff had moved and my account was deleted.

So, with "JHCliff" gone, it fell to me to invent a new username for myself. As you can probably tell, I'm not all that imaginative when it comes to inventing my own name. (Or other peoples: see "Buddy" and "Guy.") I couldn't decide what to call myself, so I decided just to use my old naming method, and become ToriC. The C stands for both Cecily, Tori's middle name, and of course, Clifford.

It started with a few innocent posts, one in the Inception review thread, one in the "Introductions" board, and a few others scattered around.

Aside from a minor war or words in the Inception thread, nothing controversial happened. I lived my day-to-day life, still a bit sore from Cyndi's verbal stabbing, and came home. With Sara and Raine busy with various things over the course of August, I found myself getting more and more time by myself, and feeling more and more comfortable on the computer. At first I was wary, because I didn't want to overplay my status as a (let's face it, above-average-looking) female on a board more than likely populated by guys not unlike J.H. Clifford.

(And I admit it, my username was slightly deliberate, designed to imply girlhood. But it's not like I outright named myself "HotChick87.")

Then I stumbled into a relationship thread and, with some voyeuristic curiosity, I started reading. Then the OP posted a request for a "female perspective" and a few other users came out of hiding (including ones I had seen and assumed were male!) I pitched in my own meager two cents, but was largely overlooked. Rightfully so, I just wanted to confirm to the world "Hey look at me, I have ovaries!" I'm not even sure why it was so important I get that acknowledged.

So yes, there are other females on the internet (I knew this but I still needed to learn.) Hell, one was even a mom.

So I'm starting to get over some of the stereotypes that go with femininity and the internet. Then I started to spend maybe way too much time on the net (this got worse when I discovered TV Tropes... which I have now cursed you with.) Then I started a thread asking for recommendation for a girl who is looking to get back into comics.

Not that "being a girl" is my whole defining characteristic, but I think it's a useful elaboration of "Not really into the whole superhero thing anymore" even if the two are unrelated. I got a few recommendations, which were hit and miss, before someone suggested I check out Image's "Invincible." I was about to reiterate my "not digging the superheroes" thing when it was pointed out that this being an Image title, it was at least less likely to succumb to crossover-itis, which is of course my actual reason for the aversion.

So I went down to the comic store to pick up the first trade paperback, just to give it a test drive. I almost regretted it as soon as I stepped in. I hate to reinforce stereotypes, especially after I just talked about getting over my fear of internet-girlhood, but my God the difference between that and real life was... jeez.

The way they stared. I mean, you wonder why I'm so accustomed to pubbing and all that? Because as far otu of my nature as it would've been, at least people in those places don't act like I'm the first girl they've seen.

I don't blame them, but they certainly didn't make me feel comfortable. I didn't have the desire to browse, I just zipped over to the trade shelf, got Invincible volume 1, and zipped out. The whole time I could feel their eyes following me. The sad thing was, some of them weren't even bad-looking. They were just like my old self, a bit out of their element. Thank goodness it wasn't a Wednesday so there was only a few. And some were subtle enough that they might not even have been looking. But a few actively were.

For what it's worth, the comic itself was really great, so I'll probably be braving the gawkers to get the next one. I haven't been this excited about a new find since... well... haha. That may be overstating it, but it is a very good book, and I look forward to catching up on it.

So that's pretty much why you haven't seen me in 2 weeks.

Alia: Everything old is new again

I don't think I can be blamed for going into hiding for a while since my last post. In some ways it's a bit harder to get back into my real life than it was to "become" Rob. After all, as Rob I had a fair bit of leeway just to sink into my new life, to explore and get comfortable. Here I have to re-learn all my relationships, and re-introduce myself to myself.

For a little while I shrunk away from the challenge. I got back to my own place, and I felt fine. My hiding from society wasn't out of fear or anxiety, for the most part. A lot of it was just apathy and exhaustion. I could also have done without Todd trying to coax me into every possible social situation just for the sake of renewing our couplehood.

I spent a few days bumming around the apartment, trying to rearrange my stuff in a way I wanted it, not the way Crystal had left it. I channel-surfed, I arranged a TA position for myself for the fall, to resume my life track and earn some money. I farted around on the internet and occasionally visited Bry and Todd, albeit not excessively.

The real problem with the self-imposed exile wasn't whether I was hanging out with Bryan and Todd... it was everyone else. Hell, I was putting off visiting my parents just because I didn't want to pick up whatever threads I'd left off with them, or what Crystal had done. Out of sight out of mind. This particularly extends to everyone I know who has never been to the inn.

Then a few days ago I got a Facebook message from a friend of mine, a grad school friend Crystal wouldn't have spent much time with. It was generally just a "hey long time no see, what've you been up to?" message, but it led to a nice chat.

He convinced me to go get a coffee with him one day, and we ended up having a good long hangout. Confession: this guy has had a bit of a flirtatious streak in him, to the point where if he hadn't been in a relationship when Todd and I were apart, I would've considered him a possibility. This may have subconsciously influenced my choice to see him, and I began to stress about our meet-up as though it were a date.

Except worse. I mean, do you have any idea how long it's been since I've had to be this person? The Alia who has never been someone else? With Todd and Bryan I can always fall back on their knowledge that I haven't been around. I can't explain that to this guy, and it made it a little tough to be straight with him about "what I'd been up to."

So while my friend was bemoaning his relationship woes (he's since broken up with the aforementioned girl) and possibly subtly hinting toward "We should do this again sometimes, but later at night" I suddenly felt very nervous and just flat-out told him, "I'm back with Todd." Even despite my own doubts that that's the case.

He seemed disappointed, knowing Todd and I have had a pretty bumpy past. I told him it's nice of him to care, but I can handle myself, and if things don't work out, I won't be staying in longer than I need to. He gave me a hug and agreed with me.

(I haven't named him because Todd hates this guy, despite their similarities. Although he can probably guess -- he should still be thankful that it brings me to my next point...)

After this meet-up, I convinced myself it was time to get back with Todd, because after all, if I didn't, I'd be a liar.

So after trying to pin down a good date, my nervous self got all worked up over having to prepare for my first date-as-a-girl. Surprisingly enough, this didn't include as much "What will I wear?" (a pair of jeans, a tee and a vest, thanks for asking, took about 10 minutes to slap together) as it did "Sitting in one spot on the couch hyperventilating oh god what if it doesn't work outtttt." Eventually I pulled myself out of it. Probably about 20 minutes into the date when he started joking about wearing granny panties (he wasn't.)

We started by going to see Scott Pilgrim, which had the added effect of giving Todd something non-Inn related to talk about for seemingly the first time in years, since he was a huge fan of the comics. I just nodded politely, since despite his recommendation, I never read them.

We fell back into our old rhythm. We managed to have some honest-to-God conversations that expanded beyond inn-talk, showing that he's maybe ready to leave it all behind, even if I'm not.

I told him how difficult I was finding it to be myself around people who'd never been. He said he understood: it's like the first time you go, you don't know how to act and you feel guilty pretending. Then as the inn gets further and further in the past, your own self takes back more of your mind and body. I found it comforting, but I'm still skeptical. I don't think an experience like that can just leave you. I think I might always carry some of Rob in me, just as he'll always carry some of Anne-Marie, even if he won't admit it.

He's different now. I'm different now. I told him I wasn't going to stay with him just because we had this much in common. Of course I still have feelings for him, but if it's not meant to be, we'll know.

He didn't like the sound of that, but agreed it sounded all right. We're taking it slow.

-Alia

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Alia: Holding on

I feel a long rambling post coming on. I feel like such a girl for wanting to share a whole bunch of my feelings with you, which is silly... it's not even something I would have been concerned with as a guy so why I'm suddenly feeling self-conscious and guarded, I don't know. Which is... kind of the problem.

For a few days after I transformed, I was in "superhero crisis management mode." Even if the new victims didn't particularly want my brand of help, at least not all of them, I felt important offering it to them, and it gave me something to focus on. That week I alternated between stress of holding these unfortunate peoples' hands (those that were new to the process - and "Max," who was showing signs of doubt as to his ability to cope as a male) and the euphoric relief of being female once again and putting this mess behind me.

But on the way home, I had a lot of time to think. And the more I thought about going back to Toronto and resuming my life, the more I worried that I was kidding myself.

I started thinking about the last time Todd and I had been together. By now it's been over two years since our break-up. We reconciled, briefly, before he went to Maine, but by the time he "came back" to Toronto, he was another person.

I've never really explained what happened in detail. Even knowing what I know now, it's hard for me to separate the Todd I know from the person who was Todd during that time. It wasn't simply a matter of Deb, the woman in his body, letting me down gently. In fact, for longer than seems appropriate, she went along with it. Through August and September of that year, we were a couple, and I let myself believe that Todd was acting normally and everything was okay.

Partly it was the curse. Partly it was that I didn't want to be alone. When, in fall of 2008, I realized things were simply untenable between us that what Deb-Todd and I had was not a relationship, it was still a long time before I acted on that impulse. And when it finally ended, the ease with which "he" let it go was painful. Knowing what I know now doesn't ease the pain it caused, and it certainly doesn't excuse what happened next.

I realized I didn't like being alone. I couldn't handle it the way I had in high school, because I'd spent the better part of 4 years with someone I still cared about. And that's why the thing with Sean Flaherty happened (and why Erica LaFleur got with Deb-Todd resulting in their daughter.) And it was this desperation that led me to following Todd to Maine, and ultimately, spending a year with a penis.

So it seems like everything's worked out, everyone's back where they belong, happy endings all around. But it was Fletcher-Beatrice's words that haunted me all the way home.

During one of our time-killing sessions before changing, I asked Fletcher why he (at the time, male) kept coming back to the Inn. If he found a body where the owner can't come back, or doesn't want back, and can get comfortable, why not just settle down?

What he told me is that it was harder to quit than I might think. To simplify it somewhat, it's like how people keep playing the lottery after they've won. Knowing you can just slip out to Maine for a few weeks and come back with a new life, that you get to keep for at least a year, how could you say no? I said "easily," now that I've got my own life back.

He said it was more complicated than I thought it was; that changing once changes you, and going back does not mean returning to normal. I didn't think anything of this until I left the inn, then it hit me.

I had tried to ignore it, but it did feel weird to be a woman again. I felt uncoordinated, weak, unattractive. I got my period the day I headed back to Canada and I was so unprepared for it I wanted to destroy somebody. I had gotten too used to the relative simplicity of manhood, I felt like I was playing pretend, like the first few weeks of being Rob. I was literally uncomfortable in my own skin.

I was still depressed about it by the time I got back to Toronto but I was too exhausted to say even a word to Todd or Bryan. In fact, for a few days I was just a useless, barely-conscious walking corpse, wondering about the futility of it all.

Todd did his best to reassure me that things were fine now, we were out of the woods and ready to get back to reality, but as far as I was concerned we left reality a long time ago. We spent our nights in silence, I slept on his couch.

Then one day he went off to work and left me by myself in the apartment. I got up and made myself some lunch and began to imagine myself, back in Philadelphia, back in Rob's place. It was just a grilled cheese sandwich -- the poor guys aren't much for groceries -- but as I stood there in the empty apartment, I felt a bit better. This is going somewhere that probably seems really obvious but is really hard to learn when you're living this.

I've lived through this whole ordeal. It's part of me. My time as Rob is as real as my time in High School, as much a part of me as my first job. I can't leave it in the past, because Fletcher was right, it did change me. Just like being Anne-Marie definitely changed Todd. And maybe I'll never be the girl I was before I went to Maine, but I can live as the woman I've become. I think.

As Rob, I learned to be on my own in a way I hadn't as Alia. Yes, I had my moments of weakness... I especially regret my error in judgment with Sam... but I've grown a lot stronger, and that's an experience I can't write off. Wouldn't want to. It's all me, even if being me doesn't mean what it used to.

And so it goes. I've moved all my stuff back to my little attic apartment. I'm still with Todd, in a sense... I know he was very gung-ho about us getting right back together, but I do need to take it slow, to get to know him all over again, before we can get back to where we were.

And if it doesn't work out... if all this was for nothing and we have to get on with our lives, so be it, I suppose. It'll hurt, but I don't think there's anything I can't survive, now. I hope everyone, no matter what their destination, gets the peace of mind I've gotten from finally knowing who I am.

Here's to the big scary future. I'll let you know how it goes.
-Alia

Greg/Didi: Happiness

So in the comment section of my last post, not only did i get some great advice on how to be a better smoker, I also got a question asking me that if I have to be female, can I at least ever be happy in the body that Im in? And ive been ruminating on it ever since.

Truth is, my gender isnt really one of the things Ive been mad about during this ordeal. If Dee had been a man, Id probably be just as pissed. I actually think my whole "its weird being a girl" thing was pretty short lived, and it happened last year. When I became Priya, everything was weird for a while, but since I was basically playing another part in my former life, things werent THAT different. In retrospect, this blog was really helpful in me getting over being a girl. The fact that Arthur and Jake seemed to get used to it compounded with the fact that it would only be temporary made me put it out of my mind and concentrate on being Priya, not just being a girl.

After spending the last year or so as a female, changing into Dee wasnt much of a big deal in that regard. Ive got all the same parts, I just had to get used to them being in different shapes (and a different color). I think if I woke up tommorow as a man, Id have a tougher time readjusting to that than I did adjusting to being older and fatter.

Another commenter said that I probably could never be happy, since Gender Dysphoria Disorder is difficult for people who ARENT cursed, and that got me thinking in an entirely different brain. Do I have that? It doesnt feel like it. Most people with GDD want to kill themselves because they were born the wrong gender. I was cursed this way, but dont feel so overcome by femalehood that I dont want to live. Did the inn change that part of my brain too? If I got a brain scan tommorow, would it show up as a female brain or a male one? Obviously I cant talk this over with a shrink, unless that shrink had previoulsy visited the inn.

This leads us to the queston: Can I be happy living as Dee? So far I dont know. You guys missed my first month or so when I was in this body, then I was miserable and mad at the world. Cursing my rotten luck to have to precede the awful woman whose face I had to see every morning. Disgusted at the flab and sagging that I have to see everytime I take a shower. Nowadays? Ive calmed down some, and I dont think thats just the nicotine talking.

Maybe its the knowledge that I wont be her next year. Maybe its just me getting used to things via a routine. I like to think that theres a part of me that will always be Greg, and hes not a quitter. And now matter what I look like on the outside, on the inside Ill be making the best of my situation and adapting.

So while this isnt anywhere near where I want to be, for my own sanity i'm gonna keep plugging along, enjoying small moments of happiness when I find them.

-Greg.

Cliff/Tori: New old friends

It's been a bit hard for me to find time to get back on this blog, even though I felt like I was in the middle of a story when I last posted. A lot of the time I'll write about something that seems important at the time but something bigger comes along and shows me it isn't.

Reading about Alia's and Greg's recent trips have really hit home to me how normal everything in my world has become. I'm not being transformed again anytime soon, I'm not having to adjust and rearrange my life and it's been a long time since I felt out of place in a woman's body... I mean, compared to everything else, it feels boring to talk about my own life.

The weird thing is, I'm actually having a really nice time. I'll tell you for sure, this summer definitely kicks ass over last year. I like myself, I like my life, I have an almost sickeningly positive outlook on things. And I feel like, despite all the chaos in everyone else's life, there might be some value to me continuing to share my story, so I'll catch you up on what July was like for me.

A little ways into the month, I was contacted, via Facebook, by an old friend of Tori's. This is part of the reason why I'm still Cliff/Tori... it isn't that I still deny the fact that I'm Tori, it's just that I don't think I can take the Cliff out of my name until I can be sure the life is more mine than hers. It's getting there, but meeting this person set me back a fair bit.

I've met a lot of people over the last year. Sara and Raine, who are pretty much my best friends, are just the tip of it. They've taken me to more than a few parties where I've had to fake my way through conversations, and I've run into an ex or two... some who are attached, some who would want to hook up with me. I try to ignore these people and keep to my comfort zone. But this one shook me.

It was Tori's old friend Daniel -- as in her gay childhood friend, the one she had a crush on, and basically stopped hanging around with after he came out.

He found me on Facebook and, pretty casually asked me if I wanted to catch up. I was reluctant, because I'm still wary of new people, especially guys, even though he's gay. For some reason that fact didn't help me, it just raised me a whole bunch of new questions, because I don't think I've ever been friends close with anyone who was openly gay. There was a couple people in high school and college, but I stayed away from them because there was a whole clique thing.

I talked to Raine and Sara about it -- they were around in high school but I think what happened was Tori had to make a choice between Danny's crowd and theirs. At the time, in Tori's diary, they came off a bit bitchy about it, but by now they were encouraging, "Yeah, go meet him, it'll be good." I looked over his profile and I realized we might have a few things in common, so I might get along with this guy. So I did.

We met for coffee. He has this really warm presence about him. I don't want to seem ignorant, but I have this whole perception about how gay dudes act based on the few I've met. Danny wasn't especially effeminate -- I mean hell, by this point I'm way girlier than him -- he has a really good sense of humor. A real smart-ass. After an awkward beginning of "What have you been up to these past few years?" we just started riffing about life and work and ambitions. He's constantly searching for new jobs, changing career paths, meeting new people.

By the end of it, I was actually feeling really good about this. Maybe... a little too good. Like, I haven't gotten along with someone this well since the first time I met Buddy, and we know how that worked out... it really felt like a date. Maybe because he wasn't trying so hard to impress me, since he likes guys.

I was just so embarrassed, because I had a ton of questions but didn't want to, you know, pry.

Since then, the summer's been rather free. Raine has taken up in her parents' house, because they took her brother (AKA Mae's ex) to England for the summer, and she's been using it to basically throw a pool party every weekend. So us girls have been lounging around soaking up the sun as much as we can, with their guys often along. Occasionally we invite the others, like Cyndi and Leo, and Danny and... his boyfriend. Watching them together has kind of put me in this space of "Why shouldn't I be that happy with someone?"

And who knows. Maybe if that person comes along, I'll be able to recognize it. You only live once... getting a different body during that lifetime doesn't really change that.