Sometimes I get sad when I think about the fact that as much as I love my dad, he's only been my dad for a couple of years. It makes me sadder to think of the fact that the love he has for me is the love he means to give to someone else, someone who walked away from her own life. I have a complex opinion of the "real" Tori, because she was gracious enough to let me keep living a life that is rightfully hers when it turned out I wouldn't get mine back. But the way she gave it up, sometimes I wonder if she appreciated what she had.
I put off talking to my family for a while after I got back from Houston. I really didn't want to talk to anybody, but of course I live with Raine, and I work with Alex, but I was quiet about it, and they respected that. They knew things with Buddy were complicated, but I never really could explain why, obviously. There were a lot of issues, even stretching beyond the "I used to be a guy" thing, because of who I was as a guy... partly, he reminded me of the old me, and that was both a good thing and a bad thing. Things I liked about myself, I liked about him. Things I hated about myself, I absolutely couldn't stand about him. But I guess I felt I owed it to myself to try to make it work, because I was just so high on being able to be in a relationship anyway.
But breaking up hurt even though it was mostly my own doing. I didn't want to show it because after all this time, I should know it's better to have loved and lost than never at all. I'd fall asleep clutching my pillow wondering if I'd made a mistake, and feeling guilty and irrational and emotional and embarrassed.
A while later, my dad called to see if I'd help him paint the house. The weather was getting nice and mom had been on his case about the window sills and the garage doors. Even though I didn't quite get why he'd ask me -- I don't think either the old Tori or myself showed signs of competence with that -- I was glad to do it, because I hadn't had an excuse to see them in a while, and wanted to stop avoiding them. Mostly, it just felt like a fun normal afternoon.
So I found an old t-shirt and some shorts and we spent an afternoon painting the place up. He goaded me into going up the ladder he'd rented to do the top floor windows. We ordered a pizza for lunch, and then he came out with it.
"So... I'm gonna guess you and Buddy are off."
I sighed heavily. "What was your first clue?"
"Well, he moved off to Texas, didn't he? Dallas?"
"Houston."
"Right. And weren't you thinking of joining him?"
"I was. I was looking for work down there. In case it worked out."
"And it didn't?"
I gave a moment's thought and answered "No. It did not."
He took a long time responding to that. He took a bite of his pizza and chewed, and then another. Maybe he was waiting for me to elaborate, but I didn't know what else to say.
He stopped chewing and looked at me and said "I didn't like him."
I smiled uncontrollably, but had to twist my face into a sour expression. "That's sweet of you to say, Dad, but I know it's not true." Although he wouldn't have, if he'd known how badly Buddy handled the break-up.
"No, it's not true. He was smart, nice enough, very polite. Your mother and I liked that you were with him."
I winced. "I've dated a lot of assholes." I haven't, but part of being someone else, unfortunately, is having the balls to own up to their mistakes.
He laughed, "Yeah. Sure. Some assholes here and there. But I never protested, did I? I let you find your way. And now look at you. I liked him fine, but I liked that you were dating him. He never got a ticket for street racing, I bet."
Dad brings this up from time to time and I have no idea what the story is behind it.
"He was smart and he had a good job and he didn't seem like he would've been popular in high school. Really different choice for you, if you don't mind me saying so."
"I don't."
"But that doesn't mean I'm upset you broke up. If there was a problem that couldn't be fixed, I'm glad you did what you felt was right. You're a very strong girl, Tori. You're a very different person than I thought you'd turn out to be, and I'm always surprised by what an amazing person you became."
I wanted to cry, I was getting so choked up, I had to throw my paint-covered arms around him. He had no idea how much those words could possibly mean to me, or what he was truly saying. I actually felt guilty because I'm not the girl he raised, but knowing he approves of who I am just means the world to me. You don't get to choose your family, and I'm so glad that when I landed in this body, I got one I love so much.
I was struggling to open a can of paint and I said jokingly (but not without meaning) "I bet at times like these you wish I was a son, right dad?"
He just grinned at me, popped the lid open and said "Hey, I could have called your brother up... what would I need another son for? I've got the best daughters ever."
He paused and added, "And the best son."
I was on such a high about that weekend, but it didn't last. A while later, I got an e-mail from "J.H. Clifford." Willy. My heart sunk and I almost didn't want to hear what he had to say. I clicked the message.
He had just gotten word that my dad -- My real dad, in Buffalo -- had had a heart attack and was in the hospital. Willy's still in England, but maybe I would like to have a look in on my family, in case he doesn't make it. There wasn't anything else in the letter. No "This is what I've done with your life," no question of returning to the inn. Just this fact.
I was looking up bus tickets to Buffalo that night, and before I knew it, I was back home...
Wednesday, June 22, 2011
Thursday, June 16, 2011
Greg/Didi: Saying my goodbyes.
I know at times Ive made it seem that I have no friends as Dee and that I lived my life as a hermit, but thats not entirely true. I have co workers and neighbors who Ive been friendly with and enjoyed their company and Im gonna miss a little when the Inn takes me on my next great adventure. I left work last Friday saying goodbye to all my friends, although they didnt seem to get it. As far as they were concerned, Dee was going to Maine for the 3rd year in a row and she always came back so much nicer. I realize now that I'm going to miss them, but theres one person in particular I am going to miss.
Let me start at the beginning, and rewind back to January.
The holidays were just finishing up and I was feeling really depressed, what with Dee's son spending xmas somewehere else and me being alone for the first time in years. That loneliness was compounded by a certain itch that needed scratching, as in sex. Dont get me wrong I had no qualms masturbating in this big lonely house, there were even toys for it. It feel very attractive doing it but it got the job done. But as any woman will tell you, there is no substitute for the real thing, and I dont know what Susan's sex life was like therefore I had no idea how long it had been since this body had had sex.
I had no idea how to go out and get laid as a girl, at least not as this girl. As a guy you went out with a group of friends at a bar or something and went on the hunt. As Priya all my encounters were on the receiving end of things like this, but Dee's was much to old to go to a singles bar, and I was to nervous to get all dressed up and try to look sexy. So I did the shy and dorky thing and one night I drank a whole bottle of wine and set up an online dating profile.
I didnt do it too seriously, just a profile and basic info. I actually wrote it like Greg would write it. Like I wasnt pretending to be Dee, like I was someone who looked like Dee with Greg's likes and dislikes. I went to bed and forgot about it. It was when I woke up the next morning and saw that I had 38 new emails, most of them responses from the site saying I had new messages. Turns out girls on the internet are so rare that even ones in their 40's get tons of attention.
A lot of the messages were from weird people with incomplete profiles who were clearly just looking to get laid. They werent even subtle about it. A lot of them asked about the status of some of my private parts, others linked me to pictures of THEIR private parts. And even though the main reason I started the website was a drunken desire to get laid, I figured they'd at least have to make an effort.
I started corresponding with a few of the ones who were serious and eventually gave my phone number out to one, whom I'll call Mike for anonymity purpposes. Mike works in some office job in Oxford and was also a divorcee empty nester. He had gone through the typical midlife crisis and had a really cool car to show for it, but lately he had come back to earth and was looking for companionship his own age. He was 2 years older than Dee, had a beer gut, a lot of body hair, and was pretty much bald. Not exactly romance novel material but who was I kidding, I'm not exactly pinup girl material either.
We met at a bar outside the student inhabited part of town. He was impressed that I ordered gin and tonic instead of some girly drink. He was even more impressed about the lengthy conversation we had about Rebel football and their chances next season.
We took a walk after that and I dont know if it was the gin or just my nothing-to-lose attitude but I found myself opening up to him. Talking, laughing, even flirting with him at times. After awhile when it was time to part ways, I found myself asking him back to my place.
He didnt immediately pounce on me once we got there, in fact he talked to me for about 40 minutes, slowly warming his way up to a kiss on the couch. (I later found out that part of the reason was to let his Viagra kick in). After a few minutes of making out he followed me upstairs and we got undressed.
What followed after that was mostly instinct. Its hard to explain, but when youre having sex as a woman its much easier to go on autopilot. That is just zone out and lie back and let it happen. Thats not to say that I wasnt there mentally or that I didnt enjoy it, because man did I enjoy it, but Mike was definitely in charge. It wasnt pretty to look at and Im glad we didnt make a sex tape, but it was just what this body needed. When he finished he cuddled me and we talked for about 5 minutes before he fell asleep.
He woke up in the morning and left early, before breakfast. Which was good because I was really regretting what I had done. I kinda liked the guy but didnt want to lead him on because I had no permanent plans for this body and didnt want to be his girlfriend before I left it. I told him as much when he called me back,(That part about not wanting anything long term, not the part about being a man cursed to look like this), and he seemed to understand, but didnt take it as a permanent goodbye.
We kept emailing and texting each other causually until about 3 weeks later when I called him in a haze of wine and hormones to come over. He did, we enjoyed ourselves, and he left in the morning, fully aware of what the situation was. This became a pattern throughout the rest of my time here. And Im sorry I didnt blog about him or talk about him, I'm not like other bloggers where I post about every new sexual encounter I have immediately.
Anyway, fast forward back to last week. I called him up and had him meet me for dinner, with the intention of telling him we'd never see each other again. The problem is, he was such a witty and polite southern gentleman that the opportunity truly never came up. Either that or I was too chicken to tell him. We wound up going home together and I found myself giving one hell of a performance in the bedroom. Doing my best to give him a good sendoff that way. As I watched him fall asleep I looked at his awkward naked body and decided that whomever gets this life next should have some option of companionship, and decided not to cut him loose for now.
But yeah, thats the one loose end I didnt tie up. Im packing as we speak and should be in Maine by the start of next week. Who knows what changes are in store for me there but I'll blog before the change (Or at least try) and let you know what happens to me and or other people there.
Nervously yours,
Greg
Let me start at the beginning, and rewind back to January.
The holidays were just finishing up and I was feeling really depressed, what with Dee's son spending xmas somewehere else and me being alone for the first time in years. That loneliness was compounded by a certain itch that needed scratching, as in sex. Dont get me wrong I had no qualms masturbating in this big lonely house, there were even toys for it. It feel very attractive doing it but it got the job done. But as any woman will tell you, there is no substitute for the real thing, and I dont know what Susan's sex life was like therefore I had no idea how long it had been since this body had had sex.
I had no idea how to go out and get laid as a girl, at least not as this girl. As a guy you went out with a group of friends at a bar or something and went on the hunt. As Priya all my encounters were on the receiving end of things like this, but Dee's was much to old to go to a singles bar, and I was to nervous to get all dressed up and try to look sexy. So I did the shy and dorky thing and one night I drank a whole bottle of wine and set up an online dating profile.
I didnt do it too seriously, just a profile and basic info. I actually wrote it like Greg would write it. Like I wasnt pretending to be Dee, like I was someone who looked like Dee with Greg's likes and dislikes. I went to bed and forgot about it. It was when I woke up the next morning and saw that I had 38 new emails, most of them responses from the site saying I had new messages. Turns out girls on the internet are so rare that even ones in their 40's get tons of attention.
A lot of the messages were from weird people with incomplete profiles who were clearly just looking to get laid. They werent even subtle about it. A lot of them asked about the status of some of my private parts, others linked me to pictures of THEIR private parts. And even though the main reason I started the website was a drunken desire to get laid, I figured they'd at least have to make an effort.
I started corresponding with a few of the ones who were serious and eventually gave my phone number out to one, whom I'll call Mike for anonymity purpposes. Mike works in some office job in Oxford and was also a divorcee empty nester. He had gone through the typical midlife crisis and had a really cool car to show for it, but lately he had come back to earth and was looking for companionship his own age. He was 2 years older than Dee, had a beer gut, a lot of body hair, and was pretty much bald. Not exactly romance novel material but who was I kidding, I'm not exactly pinup girl material either.
We met at a bar outside the student inhabited part of town. He was impressed that I ordered gin and tonic instead of some girly drink. He was even more impressed about the lengthy conversation we had about Rebel football and their chances next season.
We took a walk after that and I dont know if it was the gin or just my nothing-to-lose attitude but I found myself opening up to him. Talking, laughing, even flirting with him at times. After awhile when it was time to part ways, I found myself asking him back to my place.
He didnt immediately pounce on me once we got there, in fact he talked to me for about 40 minutes, slowly warming his way up to a kiss on the couch. (I later found out that part of the reason was to let his Viagra kick in). After a few minutes of making out he followed me upstairs and we got undressed.
What followed after that was mostly instinct. Its hard to explain, but when youre having sex as a woman its much easier to go on autopilot. That is just zone out and lie back and let it happen. Thats not to say that I wasnt there mentally or that I didnt enjoy it, because man did I enjoy it, but Mike was definitely in charge. It wasnt pretty to look at and Im glad we didnt make a sex tape, but it was just what this body needed. When he finished he cuddled me and we talked for about 5 minutes before he fell asleep.
He woke up in the morning and left early, before breakfast. Which was good because I was really regretting what I had done. I kinda liked the guy but didnt want to lead him on because I had no permanent plans for this body and didnt want to be his girlfriend before I left it. I told him as much when he called me back,(That part about not wanting anything long term, not the part about being a man cursed to look like this), and he seemed to understand, but didnt take it as a permanent goodbye.
We kept emailing and texting each other causually until about 3 weeks later when I called him in a haze of wine and hormones to come over. He did, we enjoyed ourselves, and he left in the morning, fully aware of what the situation was. This became a pattern throughout the rest of my time here. And Im sorry I didnt blog about him or talk about him, I'm not like other bloggers where I post about every new sexual encounter I have immediately.
Anyway, fast forward back to last week. I called him up and had him meet me for dinner, with the intention of telling him we'd never see each other again. The problem is, he was such a witty and polite southern gentleman that the opportunity truly never came up. Either that or I was too chicken to tell him. We wound up going home together and I found myself giving one hell of a performance in the bedroom. Doing my best to give him a good sendoff that way. As I watched him fall asleep I looked at his awkward naked body and decided that whomever gets this life next should have some option of companionship, and decided not to cut him loose for now.
But yeah, thats the one loose end I didnt tie up. Im packing as we speak and should be in Maine by the start of next week. Who knows what changes are in store for me there but I'll blog before the change (Or at least try) and let you know what happens to me and or other people there.
Nervously yours,
Greg
Sunday, May 29, 2011
Tori: Houston and Philadelphia
Houston
I wake up at 2 AM. I can feel him breathing on the back of my neck. I remember when we fell asleep, his arm was draped over me but now it's pressed between us. It's hot in our room under the covers. Sweat clings to my body, my chest and between my legs.
Slowly shifting my body weight, I sit up and plant my feet on the floor. Right where they land, my toes catch, tossed carelessly at the bedside, the panties I'd had on earlier. I slip them over my legs and feel the elastic over my hips. Aside from that, I'm naked, folding my arms across my breasts to keep them steady as I stand and step softly across the room, sneaking out the door.
In the main sitting area there's a seat by the window. I open it a crack and stare out at the lights of the Houston cityscape. I pretend it's not too dark and I'm not too high up for someone to look in and see me sitting, curled up, half-naked. The scenery is beautiful. I can't sleep.
I made such a mess of my interview, I don't even want to relive it by explaining how. I came off as cocky, but when asked for more detailed solutions to example situations, I stammered and second-guessed myself. I kept my composure, but when I walked out of the office feeling like breaking down and crying. I felt like a lie for the first time in years, dressed like a smart, confident woman when inside I'm still just a kid.
I comforted myself with Buddy. I dressed in the shortest skirt I have and the lowest-cut top, and made a lasagna for him when he came home. I tried to imagine myself playing house for a while, staying with him in Houston and finding something else to do with my life. I tried to imagine being that in love with someone. Make that sacrifice. I was going to tell him over dinner that I didn't think I'd be getting the job, but instead I said the interview went fine and we'd see.
I took him to the bedroom. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to sit quietly in front of the TV. I wanted to fuck. If I've got nothing in this life, no career opportunity, nobody I feel I can be honest with, I've at least got a body and I know he likes that. I know he likes me for a lot more than that, but I wasn't interested in talking about seeing the Thor movie.
It was wild, and physical, but brief and ultimately disappointing. After he came, I let him drift off to sleep and quietly began to pleasure myself under the covers. I'm sure in his sleep he heard me moan, but he didn't wake. I've been doing this long enough I know how to make myself come, and I wish he'd learn. He's done it before but it was more like a coincidence, and with a lot of prep time behind it. For a brief instant, as I shudder with orgasm, struggling to keep my legs from shaking and kicking him, I think I should bring him to Maine and let him be a girl for a while. It might be good for him. Fortunately, I know these are just the thoughts of a frustrated, sleepy mind, and I don't think anything of it. I finally fall asleep around 11. Oftentimes at this hour back in Philly, Raine and I are just deciding what to do.
At 2, though, I'm sitting at the window, which is opened a crack, feeling a cool breeze between my breasts. I know, in reality, the answer isn't in Maine. And I don't think it's in Houston anymore either.
By the time I left, all the doubts in my mind had solidified into certainties. Certainty that I didn't belong in Houston, that I didn't belong with Buddy. That whatever I was capable of, I deserved more than a guy who is constantly trying to push me just to go along with him, clinging to me because he doesn't think he can get any better. He deserves someone who wants him a lot more than I do, now.
For the rest of the stay, I was quiet and distant. I couldn't bring myself to pull the trigger, though, to tell him it was over. I don't know how. I was hoping he'd notice, but he'd just keep asking what's wrong and I'd keep telling him "nothing." I feel like I need to prepare, like I need there to be a reason other than "we've grown apart." But whatever happens, it's not going to be fair for him and I know deep down I can't avoid hurting him.
When we said goodbye, I still hadn't heard back from the job. I needed to go back to Philly and go back to my real job, helping businesswomen pick suits that make them look confident and feminine.
Philadelphia
When I landed in Philadelphia, there was a message on my phone saying if I wanted it, the job was mine.
I was so close to accepting. A job is a job and it shouldn't have anything to do with my relationship. My mind kept pushing me back to Houston, saying I could either try to make it work with Buddy, or I could take the job and just end the relationship when it got unbearable.
"Before you say yes, there's something you should know," Alex told me when I met him for lunch the next day. My heart jumped. Maybe I've become such a girl that I expected him to make a big speech saying he was in love with me, despite his complicated past, and knew he was the right one for me and I shouldn't move to Houston for Buddy, I should stay in Philly for him. That he needed me and that he could make me happier.
But that's not what he said. What he said was almost as good. "There's an opening at my company -- the people who paid me to take the course, they need more people. I could recommend you. You'd be a shoe in. It wouldn't be IT, but it would be a real job. You wouldn't have to move or anything."
He knows I have my doubts about Buddy. He supported me in the past but now he's trying to get me to stay. I squirmed in my seat and turned it over in my mind. The choices were clear-cut: Buddy and Houston, or Alex and Philly?
I held the phone in my hand for twenty minutes that night, just trying to dial Buddy's number. Trying to psych myself into it. I could barely breathe as I put the phone to my ear and heard it ringing.
It was voicemail.
With my voice trembling, I told him to call me back, I had to talk to him. It didn't seem right that it would end this way, but it was the only way now.
I had fallen into a nap on my bed when the phone began to vibrate. I saw it was him and answered. "Hey Buddy." Lately I've been calling him that instead of baby or honey or anything.
"Vic, what's up, babe?"
Quietly and without much hesitation, I told him, "I'm not getting the job."
"It's okay, it's okay," he went into his prepared remarks, "We'll find something. You're still coming here, right?"
I took my time answering. "No."
"No? but what about... what will you..."
"Alex told me he could get me a job. I want to stay here, Buddy."
"Alex? Goddamnit, Tori." When I first met Alex I made the mistake of gushing about him to Buddy, and he became (rightly) paranoid. I think this may have been why he kept trying to pull me in to Houston.
At this point, I guess, Buddy realized he was losing it and just let off. He accused me of being a cheater, an unstable, immature, indecisive, man-hungry bitch, and a liar. I just sat there and listened to all these epithets and rants and realized what kind of a person I had been dealing with.
"We're done, Buddy."
"Yeah," he said bitterly. "I guess we are."
Click.
And that was it. I spent the rest of May trying to decide if I was upset about this, or if I was happy it was over, or if I felt anything anymore. I met Alex's boss and got a job basically being the "Tech bitch" at the shipping company where he works.
So that's where I'm at now. Sorry I took so long to tell you, but I went from being too depressed to post to too busy.
I'll tell you more of what's happened as soon as I can. Thanks to Alia and Todd, my "writing coaches" for helping me organize all these thoughts. You're the best.
Love, Victoria Pearce.
I wake up at 2 AM. I can feel him breathing on the back of my neck. I remember when we fell asleep, his arm was draped over me but now it's pressed between us. It's hot in our room under the covers. Sweat clings to my body, my chest and between my legs.
Slowly shifting my body weight, I sit up and plant my feet on the floor. Right where they land, my toes catch, tossed carelessly at the bedside, the panties I'd had on earlier. I slip them over my legs and feel the elastic over my hips. Aside from that, I'm naked, folding my arms across my breasts to keep them steady as I stand and step softly across the room, sneaking out the door.
In the main sitting area there's a seat by the window. I open it a crack and stare out at the lights of the Houston cityscape. I pretend it's not too dark and I'm not too high up for someone to look in and see me sitting, curled up, half-naked. The scenery is beautiful. I can't sleep.
I made such a mess of my interview, I don't even want to relive it by explaining how. I came off as cocky, but when asked for more detailed solutions to example situations, I stammered and second-guessed myself. I kept my composure, but when I walked out of the office feeling like breaking down and crying. I felt like a lie for the first time in years, dressed like a smart, confident woman when inside I'm still just a kid.
I comforted myself with Buddy. I dressed in the shortest skirt I have and the lowest-cut top, and made a lasagna for him when he came home. I tried to imagine myself playing house for a while, staying with him in Houston and finding something else to do with my life. I tried to imagine being that in love with someone. Make that sacrifice. I was going to tell him over dinner that I didn't think I'd be getting the job, but instead I said the interview went fine and we'd see.
I took him to the bedroom. I didn't want to talk. I didn't want to sit quietly in front of the TV. I wanted to fuck. If I've got nothing in this life, no career opportunity, nobody I feel I can be honest with, I've at least got a body and I know he likes that. I know he likes me for a lot more than that, but I wasn't interested in talking about seeing the Thor movie.
It was wild, and physical, but brief and ultimately disappointing. After he came, I let him drift off to sleep and quietly began to pleasure myself under the covers. I'm sure in his sleep he heard me moan, but he didn't wake. I've been doing this long enough I know how to make myself come, and I wish he'd learn. He's done it before but it was more like a coincidence, and with a lot of prep time behind it. For a brief instant, as I shudder with orgasm, struggling to keep my legs from shaking and kicking him, I think I should bring him to Maine and let him be a girl for a while. It might be good for him. Fortunately, I know these are just the thoughts of a frustrated, sleepy mind, and I don't think anything of it. I finally fall asleep around 11. Oftentimes at this hour back in Philly, Raine and I are just deciding what to do.
At 2, though, I'm sitting at the window, which is opened a crack, feeling a cool breeze between my breasts. I know, in reality, the answer isn't in Maine. And I don't think it's in Houston anymore either.
By the time I left, all the doubts in my mind had solidified into certainties. Certainty that I didn't belong in Houston, that I didn't belong with Buddy. That whatever I was capable of, I deserved more than a guy who is constantly trying to push me just to go along with him, clinging to me because he doesn't think he can get any better. He deserves someone who wants him a lot more than I do, now.
For the rest of the stay, I was quiet and distant. I couldn't bring myself to pull the trigger, though, to tell him it was over. I don't know how. I was hoping he'd notice, but he'd just keep asking what's wrong and I'd keep telling him "nothing." I feel like I need to prepare, like I need there to be a reason other than "we've grown apart." But whatever happens, it's not going to be fair for him and I know deep down I can't avoid hurting him.
When we said goodbye, I still hadn't heard back from the job. I needed to go back to Philly and go back to my real job, helping businesswomen pick suits that make them look confident and feminine.
Philadelphia
When I landed in Philadelphia, there was a message on my phone saying if I wanted it, the job was mine.
I was so close to accepting. A job is a job and it shouldn't have anything to do with my relationship. My mind kept pushing me back to Houston, saying I could either try to make it work with Buddy, or I could take the job and just end the relationship when it got unbearable.
"Before you say yes, there's something you should know," Alex told me when I met him for lunch the next day. My heart jumped. Maybe I've become such a girl that I expected him to make a big speech saying he was in love with me, despite his complicated past, and knew he was the right one for me and I shouldn't move to Houston for Buddy, I should stay in Philly for him. That he needed me and that he could make me happier.
But that's not what he said. What he said was almost as good. "There's an opening at my company -- the people who paid me to take the course, they need more people. I could recommend you. You'd be a shoe in. It wouldn't be IT, but it would be a real job. You wouldn't have to move or anything."
He knows I have my doubts about Buddy. He supported me in the past but now he's trying to get me to stay. I squirmed in my seat and turned it over in my mind. The choices were clear-cut: Buddy and Houston, or Alex and Philly?
I held the phone in my hand for twenty minutes that night, just trying to dial Buddy's number. Trying to psych myself into it. I could barely breathe as I put the phone to my ear and heard it ringing.
It was voicemail.
With my voice trembling, I told him to call me back, I had to talk to him. It didn't seem right that it would end this way, but it was the only way now.
I had fallen into a nap on my bed when the phone began to vibrate. I saw it was him and answered. "Hey Buddy." Lately I've been calling him that instead of baby or honey or anything.
"Vic, what's up, babe?"
Quietly and without much hesitation, I told him, "I'm not getting the job."
"It's okay, it's okay," he went into his prepared remarks, "We'll find something. You're still coming here, right?"
I took my time answering. "No."
"No? but what about... what will you..."
"Alex told me he could get me a job. I want to stay here, Buddy."
"Alex? Goddamnit, Tori." When I first met Alex I made the mistake of gushing about him to Buddy, and he became (rightly) paranoid. I think this may have been why he kept trying to pull me in to Houston.
At this point, I guess, Buddy realized he was losing it and just let off. He accused me of being a cheater, an unstable, immature, indecisive, man-hungry bitch, and a liar. I just sat there and listened to all these epithets and rants and realized what kind of a person I had been dealing with.
"We're done, Buddy."
"Yeah," he said bitterly. "I guess we are."
Click.
And that was it. I spent the rest of May trying to decide if I was upset about this, or if I was happy it was over, or if I felt anything anymore. I met Alex's boss and got a job basically being the "Tech bitch" at the shipping company where he works.
So that's where I'm at now. Sorry I took so long to tell you, but I went from being too depressed to post to too busy.
I'll tell you more of what's happened as soon as I can. Thanks to Alia and Todd, my "writing coaches" for helping me organize all these thoughts. You're the best.
Love, Victoria Pearce.
Wednesday, May 18, 2011
Greg/Didi: The Home Strech
Right, so its been something ridiculous like 8 months since I updated you on my saga, but since then there hasnt been much to update on. Im still in the body of Dolores Henderson. Im still in Oxford, Mississippi working a desk job in a college administration. Im still pretty bitter about what happened to me. The major blog-worthy change in my life, is that Ive got a reservation at the Trading Post Inn.
To be honest Id given a lot of thought as to whether or not I wanted to become a "Traveler" like Fletcher or whether I would just not tempt fate once again and live out my days in this body, but by January it became quite clear that I wasnt going to stick around.
The most glaring difference is the age progression? Youve heard the expressiong "Youre only as old as you feel?" well I feel ancient. Dee did NOT take care of herself and as a result I get up every morning feeling constant aches in my back and neck as well as all of my joints. It might have something to do with the nicotine cravings but probably a lot more to do with the terrible shape I'm in.
Dont get me wrong, Ive tried to exercise and diet, but when a woman gets to be my age, her metabolism slows way down. Combine that with Dee's genetics and you get almost no results. Its frustrating as hell to spend two weeks eating salad and going to the gym being laughed at in your sweatsuit only to find that you havent lost a single pound. At some point you just think to yourself "Its not worth it, I'm leaving this body anyway" and eat a hamburger.
Another thing that I hate about being her is the loneliness. I'm a recent divorcee who lives in a house all by herself. Dee's son doesnt seem to like her or get along with her either. Its not an actively angry relationship, in fact its rather cold. Like "oh yeah youre my mom". In a way thats worse. Ive spoken to him once, and that was arounnd Christmas when he told me that he was going on a trip with his friends. It wasnt a big deal when I hung up, because I dont even know the guy, but when Christmas morning rolled around and I was alone, I started sobbing. It really hits you how much you lost on holidays, because all your memories are attached to those days. I thought of my childhood, of Amber, even last year when I didnt even celebrate Christmas because I was Hindu was better because at least I had my friends in Chicago. It was that post holiday depression that caused me to pick up the phone and call the Trading Post Inn.
I didnt call on the first day, or even the first week. I waited until the end of January. My reasoning for this is because people would be trying to get back to their rightful bodies. I didnt want to mess up anyones "swap chain" so I waited until I thought most people wouldve had that set up before I called. My goal is to get the body of some unknowing tourist, keep it safe for them, and give it back the next year.
So I made my reservation starting June 19th. Since then Ive pretty much checked out mentally, sometimes not even bothering to pretend to be Dee. Lately ive been more talkative and as the day approaches I get less and less stressed out. Ill probably post more in the coming weeks
-Greg/Didi
To be honest Id given a lot of thought as to whether or not I wanted to become a "Traveler" like Fletcher or whether I would just not tempt fate once again and live out my days in this body, but by January it became quite clear that I wasnt going to stick around.
The most glaring difference is the age progression? Youve heard the expressiong "Youre only as old as you feel?" well I feel ancient. Dee did NOT take care of herself and as a result I get up every morning feeling constant aches in my back and neck as well as all of my joints. It might have something to do with the nicotine cravings but probably a lot more to do with the terrible shape I'm in.
Dont get me wrong, Ive tried to exercise and diet, but when a woman gets to be my age, her metabolism slows way down. Combine that with Dee's genetics and you get almost no results. Its frustrating as hell to spend two weeks eating salad and going to the gym being laughed at in your sweatsuit only to find that you havent lost a single pound. At some point you just think to yourself "Its not worth it, I'm leaving this body anyway" and eat a hamburger.
Another thing that I hate about being her is the loneliness. I'm a recent divorcee who lives in a house all by herself. Dee's son doesnt seem to like her or get along with her either. Its not an actively angry relationship, in fact its rather cold. Like "oh yeah youre my mom". In a way thats worse. Ive spoken to him once, and that was arounnd Christmas when he told me that he was going on a trip with his friends. It wasnt a big deal when I hung up, because I dont even know the guy, but when Christmas morning rolled around and I was alone, I started sobbing. It really hits you how much you lost on holidays, because all your memories are attached to those days. I thought of my childhood, of Amber, even last year when I didnt even celebrate Christmas because I was Hindu was better because at least I had my friends in Chicago. It was that post holiday depression that caused me to pick up the phone and call the Trading Post Inn.
I didnt call on the first day, or even the first week. I waited until the end of January. My reasoning for this is because people would be trying to get back to their rightful bodies. I didnt want to mess up anyones "swap chain" so I waited until I thought most people wouldve had that set up before I called. My goal is to get the body of some unknowing tourist, keep it safe for them, and give it back the next year.
So I made my reservation starting June 19th. Since then Ive pretty much checked out mentally, sometimes not even bothering to pretend to be Dee. Lately ive been more talkative and as the day approaches I get less and less stressed out. Ill probably post more in the coming weeks
-Greg/Didi
Thursday, April 28, 2011
Tori: She's got baggage
I'm packing for Houston. The company I'm interviewing with wants to meet me in person, which I guess is a good sign. It certainly says a lot about where I am in my life that this is a decision I have to make.
The further I go from the East coast, the further I go from the Trading Post Inn, the life I used to live in Buffalo, and the one I've come to like as Tori, and the closer I get to having a future with Buddy, having a career and living in a new phase of my life.
Is two years long enough to forget who I was? Is six months of a relationship long enough to make this kind of choice? Is there any reason to do it other than that? Do I want this job? Do I want this life? Like I've said before, I wish someone would make the decision for me. I certainly never made the decision to become Tori, nor to keep being her after the first year, but it's worked out for the best. If you knew my track record as Cliff, you'd know it's not impressive. If I uproot myself for Buddy, and it doesn't work out... it could destroy me, emotionally at least. But I can't let this fear stop me from taking a chance on something good, at least that's what Alex is telling me. He's so supportive.
I look over at my suitcase at the end of my bed, at the clothes I've folded up into it, all the cleavage-baring tops and low-rise jeans and clean panties... when I first inherited Tori's wardrobe, I didn't know what to make of any of it. Now I spend my days surrounded by it, helping other women size themselves up and accessorize, and I don't feel the slightest bit self-conscious pulling on a cute pair of frilly undies. Buddy still makes fun of me, despite this, because he sees me as boyish because I cut my hair and read Sci-Fi.
If I don't get this job, I've been thinking about breaking up with him. I'm not sure there would be any point. I'll have to see how I feel about him when I get there. Lately, the distance thing has made him so paranoid and difficult to deal with, but we still have our good times. He's been asking about another video of me "going to town" on myself, but I've been reluctant. I tease him, saying he can wait for the real thing, but there's a darker reality.
Mae started dating this guy. She introduced him to neither me nor our parents, which I guess is fine, I could've seen myself wanting that level of privacy if I'd dated in high school. The problem is, she took some pics of herself for him -- not nudes, thank God, but very revealing -- and I guess they hit a rough patch since they ended up as attachments in a mass e-mail. Even I got them.
She has a pretty cavalier attitude about it... she's hurt, but not as pissed as she ought to be. Mom and dad were ticked, though, and Mae has asked about staying with me, and I haven't explained the likelihood that I won't be in Philly much longer. She knows something's up, but I haven't talked it out with the family the way I probably should have. It's a remnant of my upbringing, where we didn't talk about anything in the family unless it was an absolute necessity.
Anyway. I don't want that to be me. I felt personally betrayed when those pictures of Mae came out, and I don't even know the guy. I like to think I can trust Buddy, but can I trust him to delete that video of me if we break up? Am I going to let myself be held hostage because of a stupid mistake I made when I was drunk/lonely/horny?
If I'm having these thoughts, is it really smart to be considering moving forward with this relationship? Or can I go on selling skirts and shoes the rest of my life?
The further I go from the East coast, the further I go from the Trading Post Inn, the life I used to live in Buffalo, and the one I've come to like as Tori, and the closer I get to having a future with Buddy, having a career and living in a new phase of my life.
Is two years long enough to forget who I was? Is six months of a relationship long enough to make this kind of choice? Is there any reason to do it other than that? Do I want this job? Do I want this life? Like I've said before, I wish someone would make the decision for me. I certainly never made the decision to become Tori, nor to keep being her after the first year, but it's worked out for the best. If you knew my track record as Cliff, you'd know it's not impressive. If I uproot myself for Buddy, and it doesn't work out... it could destroy me, emotionally at least. But I can't let this fear stop me from taking a chance on something good, at least that's what Alex is telling me. He's so supportive.
I look over at my suitcase at the end of my bed, at the clothes I've folded up into it, all the cleavage-baring tops and low-rise jeans and clean panties... when I first inherited Tori's wardrobe, I didn't know what to make of any of it. Now I spend my days surrounded by it, helping other women size themselves up and accessorize, and I don't feel the slightest bit self-conscious pulling on a cute pair of frilly undies. Buddy still makes fun of me, despite this, because he sees me as boyish because I cut my hair and read Sci-Fi.
If I don't get this job, I've been thinking about breaking up with him. I'm not sure there would be any point. I'll have to see how I feel about him when I get there. Lately, the distance thing has made him so paranoid and difficult to deal with, but we still have our good times. He's been asking about another video of me "going to town" on myself, but I've been reluctant. I tease him, saying he can wait for the real thing, but there's a darker reality.
Mae started dating this guy. She introduced him to neither me nor our parents, which I guess is fine, I could've seen myself wanting that level of privacy if I'd dated in high school. The problem is, she took some pics of herself for him -- not nudes, thank God, but very revealing -- and I guess they hit a rough patch since they ended up as attachments in a mass e-mail. Even I got them.
She has a pretty cavalier attitude about it... she's hurt, but not as pissed as she ought to be. Mom and dad were ticked, though, and Mae has asked about staying with me, and I haven't explained the likelihood that I won't be in Philly much longer. She knows something's up, but I haven't talked it out with the family the way I probably should have. It's a remnant of my upbringing, where we didn't talk about anything in the family unless it was an absolute necessity.
Anyway. I don't want that to be me. I felt personally betrayed when those pictures of Mae came out, and I don't even know the guy. I like to think I can trust Buddy, but can I trust him to delete that video of me if we break up? Am I going to let myself be held hostage because of a stupid mistake I made when I was drunk/lonely/horny?
If I'm having these thoughts, is it really smart to be considering moving forward with this relationship? Or can I go on selling skirts and shoes the rest of my life?
Wednesday, April 20, 2011
Tori: The easy road
Unbelievably, I finally found a job opening in Houston for an accounting firm's IT department. I've never been so nervous about writing up a cover letter. Hell, I don't even think I was that nervous the first time I let myself have sex with a guy. In it, I wrote of my qualifications, my interest in the field, and the fact that although I am currently located in Pennsylvania, I am eager to move.
Maybe eager was the wrong word, but it's the one I went with.
I think this is going to be it. This is a make or break scenario for my relationship, I think... if I don't get this job, I think all the doubts I'm having about Buddy are going to explode and it's going to have to end. Even though I feel amazing when I'm with him, the distance just magnifies everything that's wrong between us. He also deserves someone who is willing to be there for him the way he wants, and if I can't bring myself to be that girl... sigh.
This is coming largely from a talk I had with Alex. He's helping to keep me on an even keel about this, helping me not feel guilty about considering breaking up with Buddy but also allowing me to consider how much I do like him. He knows this is tough for me, although obviously he can't know exactly why.
It's funny. Whenever we're together, we always talk about me. Since I've been Tori, I've always hated talking about myself because I'm worried I'll slip up and start talking more about Cliff. Obviously I can't be worried that people will "find me out" (although sometimes I wonder about Buddy's accusations that I'm "more of a boy" than most girls) but I just feel like that part of my life is done and it has no point. So now I only have about two years' worth of memories to draw on, and abstract writings from a bunch of diaries that didn't really happen to me. But somehow we always get by and I never stumble.
I'm also very cautious about what I say to him because inside I'm dying to know if he really did have sex with Danny, or if he's gay or what... but I can't bring myself to ask, because I'm worried the answer will affect my opinion of him. Either he's gay or bi or whatever, and he didn't tell me, and I'm disappointed about him lying, or he's not, and I don't... have as much reason to keep him at arm's length.
Okay, secret time, guys. I'm attracted to Alex. There. I obviously don't intend to do anything about it, since I'm still with Buddy and hoping to make it work... but I feel so guilty about it. I wish it could be as simple as "dump Buddy, date Alex," but it's not, because I still have stronger feelings for Buddy, because he was my first... man-love, I guess.
But there was this moment when we were doing laundry and he was loading some of my stuff into the dryer, and I made a crack about how "usually I like to know a guy better before I let him handle my panties." He smiled and said he figured we were pretty close by now, what's a little underpants between friends? That sent a little jolt through me and I thought "That felt nice... oh, shit, that was flirting!" and after being very careful about what I said for the rest of the afternoon, I spent the next few days replaying that moment in my head, feeling happy, guilty, excited, scared, nervous, etc etc.
I've never been good at making choices like this. I hope this job just works out and I can go on with my life.
Maybe eager was the wrong word, but it's the one I went with.
I think this is going to be it. This is a make or break scenario for my relationship, I think... if I don't get this job, I think all the doubts I'm having about Buddy are going to explode and it's going to have to end. Even though I feel amazing when I'm with him, the distance just magnifies everything that's wrong between us. He also deserves someone who is willing to be there for him the way he wants, and if I can't bring myself to be that girl... sigh.
This is coming largely from a talk I had with Alex. He's helping to keep me on an even keel about this, helping me not feel guilty about considering breaking up with Buddy but also allowing me to consider how much I do like him. He knows this is tough for me, although obviously he can't know exactly why.
It's funny. Whenever we're together, we always talk about me. Since I've been Tori, I've always hated talking about myself because I'm worried I'll slip up and start talking more about Cliff. Obviously I can't be worried that people will "find me out" (although sometimes I wonder about Buddy's accusations that I'm "more of a boy" than most girls) but I just feel like that part of my life is done and it has no point. So now I only have about two years' worth of memories to draw on, and abstract writings from a bunch of diaries that didn't really happen to me. But somehow we always get by and I never stumble.
I'm also very cautious about what I say to him because inside I'm dying to know if he really did have sex with Danny, or if he's gay or what... but I can't bring myself to ask, because I'm worried the answer will affect my opinion of him. Either he's gay or bi or whatever, and he didn't tell me, and I'm disappointed about him lying, or he's not, and I don't... have as much reason to keep him at arm's length.
Okay, secret time, guys. I'm attracted to Alex. There. I obviously don't intend to do anything about it, since I'm still with Buddy and hoping to make it work... but I feel so guilty about it. I wish it could be as simple as "dump Buddy, date Alex," but it's not, because I still have stronger feelings for Buddy, because he was my first... man-love, I guess.
But there was this moment when we were doing laundry and he was loading some of my stuff into the dryer, and I made a crack about how "usually I like to know a guy better before I let him handle my panties." He smiled and said he figured we were pretty close by now, what's a little underpants between friends? That sent a little jolt through me and I thought "That felt nice... oh, shit, that was flirting!" and after being very careful about what I said for the rest of the afternoon, I spent the next few days replaying that moment in my head, feeling happy, guilty, excited, scared, nervous, etc etc.
I've never been good at making choices like this. I hope this job just works out and I can go on with my life.
Sunday, April 17, 2011
Tori: Simplify
Okay, so I'm done school... now what?
Alex, for instance, got a job at a company. I, meanwhile, still sell skirts and blouses to girls getting their first receptionist jobs. Like once a week. That leaves me a lot of time to sit at home and browse the web for other leads on jobs. I thought it would be easy, I don't know, slipping back into stuff I used to feel comfortable doing, like there would be opportunities. I've thought about changing paths again, going to culinary school or something, because I've liked cooking since I was a guy and wouldn't mind getting better... but the idea of spending more time to find something else to do, or not do? Just exhausts me.
I've thought about Houston. Believe me, Buddy won't let a conversation go by without reminding me to think about Houston, but it's not like jobs are any more plentiful there than here. And I mean, no offense to him, I still like him a lot, but I don't want to move down there without something to do. I don't just wanna move there for the sake of someone to date. No matter how I feel about him, I don't think that's any way to live your life.
Maybe it's that kind of thinking that kept me away from romance in my old life. Maybe I'm too used to being on my own, even though ever since I started dating it hurts to think of being without someone. How did I get so dependent? It's not like the day I became a girl I thought to myself "I need a man!" As you'll know from reading this blog it took a long, looooong time for that particular idea to occur to me.
But jeez is this getting old. I can barely even muster up the energy to play with myself anymore (sorry for the tease, all, but I know you like to hear about it.)
On the plus side, I have Alex. I was initially wary about what I heard about him, but somehow he managed to keep himself around in my life and I'm glad he did. I never even asked him about it, it just... feels like it doesn't matter. He can be, and be with, whomever he wants, and if he feels comfortable talking about it, he will. We've gotten really close over the last few weeks, and I feel really glad to have him as a friend... which is something that makes me feel guilty.
I'm allowed to have straight male friends, right? I'm in a relationship, but even if I weren't, I wouldn't have to have feelings for Alex in order to hang around with him, would I? I mean, I lived so much of my life with guys, as a guy, I should be comfortable, I shouldn't think there's anything wrong with just sitting on a couch in my apartment with him, staring at the TV, channel surfing (is there a new term for that? Menu-surfing?) and not waiting for the inevitable opportunity to jump him.
It's friendship, but I feel guilty for having it and I certainly don't feel comfortable discussing Alex's existence with Buddy. Is that wrong? He's said some really paranoid things, which is unappealing, but I don't want to give him a reason. Hell, Alex has given me some pretty valuable advice on being patient with Buddy. We were having lunch the other week, and I was sorta... spilling my guts about how annoying it is that he's desperate to get me to go to Texas, and Buddy reminded me that I could put it off as long as I wanted, but if I was going to call it a relationship, I was going to have to put in the work.
I told him sometimes it feels too much like work and not enough like fun, and he said well, that's life.
Sorry for the rambling, disjointed posts, all... maybe it's because I don't get on here much, and I forget to mention specific events. Hope you're all well!
Alex, for instance, got a job at a company. I, meanwhile, still sell skirts and blouses to girls getting their first receptionist jobs. Like once a week. That leaves me a lot of time to sit at home and browse the web for other leads on jobs. I thought it would be easy, I don't know, slipping back into stuff I used to feel comfortable doing, like there would be opportunities. I've thought about changing paths again, going to culinary school or something, because I've liked cooking since I was a guy and wouldn't mind getting better... but the idea of spending more time to find something else to do, or not do? Just exhausts me.
I've thought about Houston. Believe me, Buddy won't let a conversation go by without reminding me to think about Houston, but it's not like jobs are any more plentiful there than here. And I mean, no offense to him, I still like him a lot, but I don't want to move down there without something to do. I don't just wanna move there for the sake of someone to date. No matter how I feel about him, I don't think that's any way to live your life.
Maybe it's that kind of thinking that kept me away from romance in my old life. Maybe I'm too used to being on my own, even though ever since I started dating it hurts to think of being without someone. How did I get so dependent? It's not like the day I became a girl I thought to myself "I need a man!" As you'll know from reading this blog it took a long, looooong time for that particular idea to occur to me.
But jeez is this getting old. I can barely even muster up the energy to play with myself anymore (sorry for the tease, all, but I know you like to hear about it.)
On the plus side, I have Alex. I was initially wary about what I heard about him, but somehow he managed to keep himself around in my life and I'm glad he did. I never even asked him about it, it just... feels like it doesn't matter. He can be, and be with, whomever he wants, and if he feels comfortable talking about it, he will. We've gotten really close over the last few weeks, and I feel really glad to have him as a friend... which is something that makes me feel guilty.
I'm allowed to have straight male friends, right? I'm in a relationship, but even if I weren't, I wouldn't have to have feelings for Alex in order to hang around with him, would I? I mean, I lived so much of my life with guys, as a guy, I should be comfortable, I shouldn't think there's anything wrong with just sitting on a couch in my apartment with him, staring at the TV, channel surfing (is there a new term for that? Menu-surfing?) and not waiting for the inevitable opportunity to jump him.
It's friendship, but I feel guilty for having it and I certainly don't feel comfortable discussing Alex's existence with Buddy. Is that wrong? He's said some really paranoid things, which is unappealing, but I don't want to give him a reason. Hell, Alex has given me some pretty valuable advice on being patient with Buddy. We were having lunch the other week, and I was sorta... spilling my guts about how annoying it is that he's desperate to get me to go to Texas, and Buddy reminded me that I could put it off as long as I wanted, but if I was going to call it a relationship, I was going to have to put in the work.
I told him sometimes it feels too much like work and not enough like fun, and he said well, that's life.
Sorry for the rambling, disjointed posts, all... maybe it's because I don't get on here much, and I forget to mention specific events. Hope you're all well!
Wednesday, April 06, 2011
Alia: Not a breakup, not a marriage proposal
I feel like our absence from the blog should tell you how good things have been going in our lives lately, Todd and I. Todd's just finishing up his undergrad and I'm still mulling over whether to go to teacher's college in the fall. It's funny, a few years ago if you'd have suggested I might become a teacher, I would have smacked you. Then I was Rob and didn't feel so bad about it as a possible career plan.
The truth is, I'd like to completely leave this blog and be off in happily ever after, but Todd and I are trying to figure out exactly what that's supposed to be. We love each other, and probably for the first time since we started dating, our relationship is comfortable. But we're not the types of people to get married and have kids, even though that's generally what people do. In a way, we thrive on drama, and spoken or not, Todd and I worry about being status quo.
So it all sort of exploded last month when one of my stupid cousins got pregnant again and Todd and I were invited to the "couples baby shower." Todd expressed irritation at the pressure my parents put on me to give them grandchildren, to say nothing of their opinion of Todd... suffice it to say they don't see him as son-in-law material.
So we were talking it out and it got heated, and Todd asked me whether I agreed with my parents that I should have kids before I'm 30, and I said no. He then asked if I thought I should have kids ever, and I said I was leaning towards yes eventually and he immediately accused me of "parroting" my mother, which as all you gentlemen should know, always gets said about five seconds after you should have shut the hell up already.
That was a big fight, comparable to ones we've been having for years. The weird thing is, he's actually talked about having kids before: he was so impressed with Anne-Marie's kids, he admitted to me, he wouldn't mind having a couple of his own someday. I do, however, think he gets freaked out by babies.
Anyway, the whole thing is still unresolved, but we've called a detente, as you can guess: he does read this blog and probably wouldn't like me saying anything here I hadn't already said to him. I think the main thing we can agree on is: no kids for now.
Cheers,
-Alia
The truth is, I'd like to completely leave this blog and be off in happily ever after, but Todd and I are trying to figure out exactly what that's supposed to be. We love each other, and probably for the first time since we started dating, our relationship is comfortable. But we're not the types of people to get married and have kids, even though that's generally what people do. In a way, we thrive on drama, and spoken or not, Todd and I worry about being status quo.
So it all sort of exploded last month when one of my stupid cousins got pregnant again and Todd and I were invited to the "couples baby shower." Todd expressed irritation at the pressure my parents put on me to give them grandchildren, to say nothing of their opinion of Todd... suffice it to say they don't see him as son-in-law material.
So we were talking it out and it got heated, and Todd asked me whether I agreed with my parents that I should have kids before I'm 30, and I said no. He then asked if I thought I should have kids ever, and I said I was leaning towards yes eventually and he immediately accused me of "parroting" my mother, which as all you gentlemen should know, always gets said about five seconds after you should have shut the hell up already.
That was a big fight, comparable to ones we've been having for years. The weird thing is, he's actually talked about having kids before: he was so impressed with Anne-Marie's kids, he admitted to me, he wouldn't mind having a couple of his own someday. I do, however, think he gets freaked out by babies.
Anyway, the whole thing is still unresolved, but we've called a detente, as you can guess: he does read this blog and probably wouldn't like me saying anything here I hadn't already said to him. I think the main thing we can agree on is: no kids for now.
Cheers,
-Alia
Friday, April 01, 2011
Tori: Maybe too much truth
I have a headache. I'm lying on my bed refreshing the same boring-ass websites and re-reading old webcomics because I just can't bring myself to go out. Hell, it even took me this long (and opening my third beer) to realize this is pretty much exactly why I blog.
So my attempts to make Alex and Raine into a thing went bust, pretty much for the most bizarre reason. After it all went down, and Alex was getting a little awkward around me at school, Danny clued me in to something I would never have expected. He and Alex have... a past.
Excuse me?
Now, maybe I don't have the finest-tuned gaydar in the world, but I could've sworn Alex was all about girls. I really thought when we met he was into me, and he certainly didn't bring it up when I offered to fix him up with Raine. Anyway, Danny and Alex apparently agreed not to tell, but Raine dragged it out of Danny while I was away from the table and Alex was having a smoke. Even Alex doesn't know she knows. Danny ordered me not to tell. "Don't worry," I assured him with a smirk, "I'm great with secrets."
But of course, those are mainly my own secrets. Now when I'm around Alex, I can't read him and I just want him to be honest with me, because I feel like that's a barrier to our friendship. I don't know if he's gay or bi or what.
Meanwhile, I can't talk with Buddy without him pressuring me into looking for jobs down in Houston. Even though I want the relationship to continue, I don't feel like we're at a good place where I can make that sort of commitment. I get frustrated with him because he's single minded about this sort of thing. I guess he feels, because he's "doing something" with his life, he's entitled to me making decisions for mine based around him. Anytime I've ever hinted that maybe I'd prefer staying in Philly has been met with an instant fight. Add to that the layers of sexual frustration and loneliness that pressure the relationship even further and... bleh.
I didn't ask for this life. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I didn't ask to be this person. I'm doing my best to be her, though. Believe me.
So my attempts to make Alex and Raine into a thing went bust, pretty much for the most bizarre reason. After it all went down, and Alex was getting a little awkward around me at school, Danny clued me in to something I would never have expected. He and Alex have... a past.
Excuse me?
Now, maybe I don't have the finest-tuned gaydar in the world, but I could've sworn Alex was all about girls. I really thought when we met he was into me, and he certainly didn't bring it up when I offered to fix him up with Raine. Anyway, Danny and Alex apparently agreed not to tell, but Raine dragged it out of Danny while I was away from the table and Alex was having a smoke. Even Alex doesn't know she knows. Danny ordered me not to tell. "Don't worry," I assured him with a smirk, "I'm great with secrets."
But of course, those are mainly my own secrets. Now when I'm around Alex, I can't read him and I just want him to be honest with me, because I feel like that's a barrier to our friendship. I don't know if he's gay or bi or what.
Meanwhile, I can't talk with Buddy without him pressuring me into looking for jobs down in Houston. Even though I want the relationship to continue, I don't feel like we're at a good place where I can make that sort of commitment. I get frustrated with him because he's single minded about this sort of thing. I guess he feels, because he's "doing something" with his life, he's entitled to me making decisions for mine based around him. Anytime I've ever hinted that maybe I'd prefer staying in Philly has been met with an instant fight. Add to that the layers of sexual frustration and loneliness that pressure the relationship even further and... bleh.
I didn't ask for this life. Fuck, fuck, fuck, I didn't ask to be this person. I'm doing my best to be her, though. Believe me.
Saturday, March 19, 2011
Tori: Regrets of a fifth wheel
Ah, uh, ok.
My social life has jostled around a bit since Buddy went down to Houston. It was one thing when I could go to New York and see him every weekend, I didn't need to worry about going out and doing stuff without him. Now, I try to stay in, and when I want to go out I have to play wingwoman to Raine (and avoid being hit on) or bring Danny along to be my gay shield.
I was determined to make St. Patrick's Day work, because that was supposed to be where my plan to fix up Raine and Alex came together. I made sure to let them know it was a fix up (I mean, what was I gonna do, trick them into hitting it off?) or at any rate an "introduction." To make sure I didn't become a third wheel, I invited Danny along. Problem was, he had a date for the night, so I became a fifth wheel. But I was determined to have a good night, so I pulled on a green top and hit the town.
This worked fine at the beginning, when I was helping Raine and Alex get into a groove while Danny had his date, and we were outside the bar waiting to get in. Once we were in and the drinks started flowing, I let myself get shut out while two dates happened around me. One was Raine desperately trying to find common ground with Alex, and the other was Danny and his boy getting really drunk really quickly, and then getting really handsy.
It's weird: I was a straight guy, and now I'm a straight girl, I guess... so the sight of two guys kissing is really weird for me. Yes, I kiss guys now, but I guess I'm still really "hetero," so seeing two guys kissing is... well not wrong, but still unusual. Maybe I was gawking. Actually, I know, as I got drunker, I was pretty much just staring. They didn't seem to mind. I had nothing else to do and no desire to talk to anybody else.
When I excused myself to the restroom, I met a waitress who told me she was getting weary of being hit on. I told her that since I'd been in a long-distance relationship, I was missing the attention I'd gotten when I was single. This was unthinkable just months ago... when I was turning guys away all the time, because the idea of any man showing interest in me was just too odd. Now I would've killed for something casual just for the night. And I felt super-guilty about that.
When I got out, Raine and Alex were gone, which I took as a good sign. Danny and his boy were on the dancefloor, and it was nearly 1 AM and I had class the next day, so I excused myself.
When I got home, I made sure Raine and Alex weren't around (I deduced they'd gone to his place,) I went to my room. But I was restless (and friggin' horny, I'm sure you won't mind me saying) and desperate for contact, so I turned on my cam and made a video of pleasuring myself and sent it to Buddy.
Now, if I had ever been a teenage girl, I probably would've learned by now that sending out naked videos of yourself via the internet is not a smart idea, so when I woke up the next morning, it was all I could think of. I felt so stupid and embarrassed and frantically wrote up an e-mail explaining myself. But not before getting his response: a polite "thank you" and a photo of his erect cock.
And I mean, it was a nice gesture, but what am I supposed to do with a picture of a cock? I mean, I know it's his, but his face isn't even in the photo. It's just a dick. As comfortable as I've gotten handling the equipment (and being handled by it!!) just the sight of one isn't enough to get me wet in the panties. All I could do was laugh nervously.
I'm really a silly stupid girl sometimes when it comes to stuff like this. Not feeling like a credit to either my current gender or my old one.
Then the next day, I asked Alex about it. He was pretty sketchy on the details, saying they fooled around a bit but it ended when she got a bit sick (ugh, that green dye, I think) and he let her sleep on his couch. (The gentlemanly thing to do would've been to let her take the bed, but WHATEVER.) I pressed him for more, his opinions on her and prospects of seeing her again, but he was shy about it. I guess I've forgotten guys don't really talk about this stuff the way girls do. Huh.
Raine gave the same account, with an equal amount of weariness. I'm not sensing a lot of enthusiasm from either of them, which is sad, since I like them both a lot, and I think they'd make a nice couple.
My social life has jostled around a bit since Buddy went down to Houston. It was one thing when I could go to New York and see him every weekend, I didn't need to worry about going out and doing stuff without him. Now, I try to stay in, and when I want to go out I have to play wingwoman to Raine (and avoid being hit on) or bring Danny along to be my gay shield.
I was determined to make St. Patrick's Day work, because that was supposed to be where my plan to fix up Raine and Alex came together. I made sure to let them know it was a fix up (I mean, what was I gonna do, trick them into hitting it off?) or at any rate an "introduction." To make sure I didn't become a third wheel, I invited Danny along. Problem was, he had a date for the night, so I became a fifth wheel. But I was determined to have a good night, so I pulled on a green top and hit the town.
This worked fine at the beginning, when I was helping Raine and Alex get into a groove while Danny had his date, and we were outside the bar waiting to get in. Once we were in and the drinks started flowing, I let myself get shut out while two dates happened around me. One was Raine desperately trying to find common ground with Alex, and the other was Danny and his boy getting really drunk really quickly, and then getting really handsy.
It's weird: I was a straight guy, and now I'm a straight girl, I guess... so the sight of two guys kissing is really weird for me. Yes, I kiss guys now, but I guess I'm still really "hetero," so seeing two guys kissing is... well not wrong, but still unusual. Maybe I was gawking. Actually, I know, as I got drunker, I was pretty much just staring. They didn't seem to mind. I had nothing else to do and no desire to talk to anybody else.
When I excused myself to the restroom, I met a waitress who told me she was getting weary of being hit on. I told her that since I'd been in a long-distance relationship, I was missing the attention I'd gotten when I was single. This was unthinkable just months ago... when I was turning guys away all the time, because the idea of any man showing interest in me was just too odd. Now I would've killed for something casual just for the night. And I felt super-guilty about that.
When I got out, Raine and Alex were gone, which I took as a good sign. Danny and his boy were on the dancefloor, and it was nearly 1 AM and I had class the next day, so I excused myself.
When I got home, I made sure Raine and Alex weren't around (I deduced they'd gone to his place,) I went to my room. But I was restless (and friggin' horny, I'm sure you won't mind me saying) and desperate for contact, so I turned on my cam and made a video of pleasuring myself and sent it to Buddy.
Now, if I had ever been a teenage girl, I probably would've learned by now that sending out naked videos of yourself via the internet is not a smart idea, so when I woke up the next morning, it was all I could think of. I felt so stupid and embarrassed and frantically wrote up an e-mail explaining myself. But not before getting his response: a polite "thank you" and a photo of his erect cock.
And I mean, it was a nice gesture, but what am I supposed to do with a picture of a cock? I mean, I know it's his, but his face isn't even in the photo. It's just a dick. As comfortable as I've gotten handling the equipment (and being handled by it!!) just the sight of one isn't enough to get me wet in the panties. All I could do was laugh nervously.
I'm really a silly stupid girl sometimes when it comes to stuff like this. Not feeling like a credit to either my current gender or my old one.
Then the next day, I asked Alex about it. He was pretty sketchy on the details, saying they fooled around a bit but it ended when she got a bit sick (ugh, that green dye, I think) and he let her sleep on his couch. (The gentlemanly thing to do would've been to let her take the bed, but WHATEVER.) I pressed him for more, his opinions on her and prospects of seeing her again, but he was shy about it. I guess I've forgotten guys don't really talk about this stuff the way girls do. Huh.
Raine gave the same account, with an equal amount of weariness. I'm not sensing a lot of enthusiasm from either of them, which is sad, since I like them both a lot, and I think they'd make a nice couple.
Tuesday, March 15, 2011
Tori: Someone around here needs to get laid
And for once I'm not talking about myself.
Don't get me wrong, it's absolutely frustrating having your boyfriend halfway across the country, but at least I have someone to talk to (slash show my girly parts to via webcam) but Raine has been moping around the house for weeks after a few really negative experience with the opposite sex. When I was a guy, I was of the belief that it wasn't hard for a woman to find sexual attention -- and that's not wrong -- but it's about finding the right guy.
I feel bad, since Raine was pretty instrumental in getting me and Buddy together, so I'm thinking about paying her back. I'm doing something I would never have thought about until recently: I'm fixing her up.
Okay, this is where it gets tricky, since I haven't blogged in a while, you're not really up to speed. I started day classes in tech services last month. It's an 8-week course (I may have accidentally said 6-week in my earlier post) and it's pretty intensive. It's also almost all dudes -- some young guys, a few middle aged guys, and some middle-aged ladies. The reaction I got when I walked in was... well, it's the sort of thing I've got accustomed to over the last few years, but amplified since this is a crowd of computer enthusiasts. I'm striking, but in most contexts not unusually attractive. Here, they just did not know what to make of me.
They're pretty straightforward lessons, with hands-on assignments. Some people have been partnering up, but I'm mainly left to my own devices. It's the first time in a long while that my looks have made me feel like an outsider. It didn't help that the minute I got my hands on a harddrive, my introverted Cliff tendancies reactivated and suddenly I wasn't a pretty girl, but a skinny guy without a date.
For a while, I tried to make myself more accessible by dressing down, with plain white button-ups and cardigans, but I guess it was in vain. I don't know why I was so desperate to socialize with these folks, I just wanted them to accept the fact that someone who looks like me might be interested in computers.
Finally, in the middle of the second week, we were doing an exercise and I was having a bit of trouble. I used to be very good at my job when I did it, but it does require constant updating. I don't feel like I've lost knowledge, but I'm out of practice and much of what I know is a bit behind the times, even after only two years. This guy I'd noticeed with shaggy black hair and a hoodie -- heh, he kinds reminded me of the main guy from Questionable Content came over to me and asked if I needed help.
Embarrassed and self-conscious about seeming like a helpless girl, I declined and went back to studying the problem but he just stood there. "Look," he said, "I was having trouble with it at first, too. Let me show you what I did."
I rolled my eyes. "Okay, help me out here."
He showed me what I was doing wrong and I felt a little flush because of how obvious it was. He introduced himself as Alex. I shook his hand and said "Tori." Suddenly I had made a new friend.
I was a bit wary, though, so when I saw him the next day, I was sure to work into conversation the fact that I have a boyfriend. "We use Skype a lot, I like computers, he's in Houston right now," blah blah. It probably came off as really forced, but I pushed it out there because I didn't want to mislead this guy. Maybe he wasn't even attracted to me, because he didn't seem very put off by all this.
He's funny, he's smart but not too smart, and not overly shy... he's got kind of a Paul Rudd level of jokey confidence, which I think most girls should like. So after a few weeks, when I decided he was still going to be my friend once we were done learning about computers, I began to hatch this scheme to fix him up with Raine. I haven't told either of them about it yet, so we'll see, but I feel good about helping. Raine's been such a good friend to me since I got here, it's time I do something for her.
Don't get me wrong, it's absolutely frustrating having your boyfriend halfway across the country, but at least I have someone to talk to (slash show my girly parts to via webcam) but Raine has been moping around the house for weeks after a few really negative experience with the opposite sex. When I was a guy, I was of the belief that it wasn't hard for a woman to find sexual attention -- and that's not wrong -- but it's about finding the right guy.
I feel bad, since Raine was pretty instrumental in getting me and Buddy together, so I'm thinking about paying her back. I'm doing something I would never have thought about until recently: I'm fixing her up.
Okay, this is where it gets tricky, since I haven't blogged in a while, you're not really up to speed. I started day classes in tech services last month. It's an 8-week course (I may have accidentally said 6-week in my earlier post) and it's pretty intensive. It's also almost all dudes -- some young guys, a few middle aged guys, and some middle-aged ladies. The reaction I got when I walked in was... well, it's the sort of thing I've got accustomed to over the last few years, but amplified since this is a crowd of computer enthusiasts. I'm striking, but in most contexts not unusually attractive. Here, they just did not know what to make of me.
They're pretty straightforward lessons, with hands-on assignments. Some people have been partnering up, but I'm mainly left to my own devices. It's the first time in a long while that my looks have made me feel like an outsider. It didn't help that the minute I got my hands on a harddrive, my introverted Cliff tendancies reactivated and suddenly I wasn't a pretty girl, but a skinny guy without a date.
For a while, I tried to make myself more accessible by dressing down, with plain white button-ups and cardigans, but I guess it was in vain. I don't know why I was so desperate to socialize with these folks, I just wanted them to accept the fact that someone who looks like me might be interested in computers.
Finally, in the middle of the second week, we were doing an exercise and I was having a bit of trouble. I used to be very good at my job when I did it, but it does require constant updating. I don't feel like I've lost knowledge, but I'm out of practice and much of what I know is a bit behind the times, even after only two years. This guy I'd noticeed with shaggy black hair and a hoodie -- heh, he kinds reminded me of the main guy from Questionable Content came over to me and asked if I needed help.
Embarrassed and self-conscious about seeming like a helpless girl, I declined and went back to studying the problem but he just stood there. "Look," he said, "I was having trouble with it at first, too. Let me show you what I did."
I rolled my eyes. "Okay, help me out here."
He showed me what I was doing wrong and I felt a little flush because of how obvious it was. He introduced himself as Alex. I shook his hand and said "Tori." Suddenly I had made a new friend.
I was a bit wary, though, so when I saw him the next day, I was sure to work into conversation the fact that I have a boyfriend. "We use Skype a lot, I like computers, he's in Houston right now," blah blah. It probably came off as really forced, but I pushed it out there because I didn't want to mislead this guy. Maybe he wasn't even attracted to me, because he didn't seem very put off by all this.
He's funny, he's smart but not too smart, and not overly shy... he's got kind of a Paul Rudd level of jokey confidence, which I think most girls should like. So after a few weeks, when I decided he was still going to be my friend once we were done learning about computers, I began to hatch this scheme to fix him up with Raine. I haven't told either of them about it yet, so we'll see, but I feel good about helping. Raine's been such a good friend to me since I got here, it's time I do something for her.
Thursday, March 03, 2011
Max: Affair
I never imagined I'd be the other man. I mean, I never imagined myself as a man until a short while ago anyway, but I always thought certain lines weren't meant to be breached. But as always, when you're dealing with Inn-folks, things get blurred, lines cease to exist.
It was just after the holidays, after all the chaos and putting out fires of feuds between Tanya and Melanie, that I got the message. "Hey!! Coming 2 canada. wanna c u." The e-mail was attributed to one "Beatrice Tran." I felt a lump in my throat of nervousness and fear when I realized "Beatrice" was the current identity of the man I'd known as Fletcher, the sketchy drifter -- I'm sorry, "Traveler" -- that wound up as guardian of a Roger, a guy who thought that by staying at the Inn, he might get a chance to be in my panties. I wasn't going to let him, and he ended up in a pair of panties of his own as Beatrice's daughter Lily. I didn't mean to lead him astray, and it's something I've been carrying around with me ever since.
I was not happy about the idea of Beatrice coming to New Brunswick, and part of that was fear that she was bringing her daughter with her. Eventually I got the balls (love that expression) to get back to her, and she clarified her statement: she was coming to Canada alone. Apparently, her life as a housewife was boring, so she took it on herself to do some traveling between stays at the Inn. Whether I invited her over or not, I was going to have to see her.
In fact, she came into my restaurant on New Year's Eve. It was lunch, and I saw from my dishwashing station in the kitchen a statuesque Asian woman dressed in a dark suit with a short skirt. I recognized her, but did not remember thinking she looked that hot. She was, after all, much older than me (mentally, physically, everything,) but it looked like Bea had put in some real effort to make herself... sexy.
She was still here when my shift ended, so I approached her. "What are you doing here?" I immediately asked.
"I told you. I'm bored. I like to travel, whether it involves Maine or not. I know I'm not your favourite person, but we have to stick together."
"We don't have to do anything," I hissed, "I just want to live my life."
"Oh yeah?" she smirked, "And how is that going?"
I was about to say "fine," but paused myself, and, well, let a lot of it out. About how Tanya and Melanie were on bad terms and I was caught in the middle, and how I had a thing for Mel but she turned me down, and how I was sick of all the resentment and bitterness that was flying around the house.
She got a flicker in her eyes. "Sounds like you're thinking about running away."
That started me off. I told her in no way was I considering going back to the Inn again, after all the shit I've had to deal with. It tempts me every day to go back and start again, to wipe the slate clean, but sometimes in life you just need to take the hand you're dealt. Going to the Inn really is a curse... knowing it's there makes you question every moment of your life. But I told her I was determined to ride it all out and keep going with this life as long as I could.
"That's a shame," she rolled her eyes, "Because you know, I've been trying to help my daughter with something, and I was hoping you'd want to take part."
That struck me. She knew I was carrying some guilt for Roger being Lily and was using it against me. I had no choice but to hear her out. Damn my conscience.
"Well," she continued, "As you know, January will be the time to start making plans to go back to the Inn. I don't usually go on an annual basis, but this situation warrants it. Despite what those people reading your blog think, I'm not a monster" -- she sneered while saying this, and used a far less polite expression than "people" -- "They think I'm doing this for my own amusement. Believe me, I'd like nothing more than to be free of responsibility. And if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have a daughter whining about going back to his wife and kids."
"No, you'd have me."
"Exactly. And you could handle it. Being a little girl, having the childhood you never got, or else having to go back to a different body altogether, you're a pro. Look at you! I bet you're even dating. Come on, there's some hot waitresses around here."
I probably looked embarrassed as I muttered that the misadventure with Melanie was my only foray into romance. She smirked. "And here I thought you were all man now. Whatever. You're still pretty adaptable, but as you can guess, Roger isn't up to it. So I'm trying to help him."
My eyebrows perked up. "Is there a problem?"
She nodded. "They've got his body," she said, "Roger's."
I paused, "Who've got his body?"
She cleared her throat. "I don't know who they are. Maybe they're those Pygmalion people your blog friends are always babbling about. Maybe it's someone else. I tried to negotiate with them to get his body back, but he told me not to call anymore. What does that sound like to you?"
I said quietly, "So what now?"
"Like I said, I'm not a monster. I don't want a daughter who's going to spend the rest of her life complaining about how she used to have a dick. And I'm not going to go through the guilt of leaving her behind when I make my next trip. So what I want is assurance that she can get a male body."
I said flatly, "You want me to give Roger my body?"
"If necessary, yes. Please. Consider it a favour to me. Consider it a way to ease your guilt. Look, there's something else I want to give you. Come by my hotel room tonight around 9." She wrote her room number on a napkin, then paid her bill and left.
Against my better judgment, I went. She answered the door in a lacy red bra and panties. I was... surprised. She pulled me in.
When I asked her what the hell she was up to, she made her pitch quickly. "Look, it's sad. If you can't get your little girlfriend to feel the same way, that sucks, but you shouldn't let it stop you from enjoying yourself. So consider this a freebie."
"What if I politely decline?"
"Then you're the biggest pussy I know. Come on. I'm gorgeous. I don't like my husband very much. I want this. Go on and tell me you don't." She had her hands all over me.
I got an immense headache just trying to deal with the mental whiplash. I was still somewhat thinking of this person as the scumbag who had come onto me in Maine. In effect, she still was, but in a body I liked more. God help me, I couldn't resist. At the first sight of her, my dick made it perfectly clear of its opinion.
I began to disrobe. When I was down to my boxers, I sato n the bed next to her and began to kiss her.
"Uh uh," she stopped me between pleasure moans, "This isn't high school, Maxy. I'm not your girlfriend. If you're gonna kiss me, it's not gonna be on my mouth." Jesus, who talks like that?
So I laid her back on the bed and began to run my hands all over her as sensually as I could,. I wanted to savor the sensation because, as eager as I was to get down to business, I hadn't felt a woman's body since well before I realized I had the desire for one. She grunted and moaned with pleasure, and it was music to my ears. Soon she began to speed up, and I upped my pace to match. She thrust her legs open and dared me to "show her what I've got."
We had hot, sweaty, illicit sex for about ten minutes or so, and then suddenly she stopped and said "Okay, okay, just finish up already." I swear, this woman. She didn't even seem like she'd had an orgasm, and I like to think I would've noticed.
It was really mercenary and frankly gross, and after it was over I remembered exactly what sort of person I was with. I asked her what all this was really about.
Re-clasping her bra, she told me that in this body, she felt sexy, and wanted that acknowledged, if just this one time. She had had sex with her new husband, but they apparently didn't click. I asked her whether we "clicked."
She flashed that evil smile of hers and said "If you have to ask, you have your answer. Still, it was quite nice. And I consider it a favour to you, and if you want more, you know how to get it."
"I'm not going all the way out to find you just for a booty call," I said flatly.
"I wasn't talking about me. I'm just helping you take a step in a direction you were already looking. now put your pants on, I have an early flight and need my beauty rest."
Women.
She was right, of course. I'd been yearning for female companionship, and was really starting to get a bit down on myself after Melanie's (quite justifiable) rejection. It didn't mean I couldn't look elsewhere.
It was just after the holidays, after all the chaos and putting out fires of feuds between Tanya and Melanie, that I got the message. "Hey!! Coming 2 canada. wanna c u." The e-mail was attributed to one "Beatrice Tran." I felt a lump in my throat of nervousness and fear when I realized "Beatrice" was the current identity of the man I'd known as Fletcher, the sketchy drifter -- I'm sorry, "Traveler" -- that wound up as guardian of a Roger, a guy who thought that by staying at the Inn, he might get a chance to be in my panties. I wasn't going to let him, and he ended up in a pair of panties of his own as Beatrice's daughter Lily. I didn't mean to lead him astray, and it's something I've been carrying around with me ever since.
I was not happy about the idea of Beatrice coming to New Brunswick, and part of that was fear that she was bringing her daughter with her. Eventually I got the balls (love that expression) to get back to her, and she clarified her statement: she was coming to Canada alone. Apparently, her life as a housewife was boring, so she took it on herself to do some traveling between stays at the Inn. Whether I invited her over or not, I was going to have to see her.
In fact, she came into my restaurant on New Year's Eve. It was lunch, and I saw from my dishwashing station in the kitchen a statuesque Asian woman dressed in a dark suit with a short skirt. I recognized her, but did not remember thinking she looked that hot. She was, after all, much older than me (mentally, physically, everything,) but it looked like Bea had put in some real effort to make herself... sexy.
She was still here when my shift ended, so I approached her. "What are you doing here?" I immediately asked.
"I told you. I'm bored. I like to travel, whether it involves Maine or not. I know I'm not your favourite person, but we have to stick together."
"We don't have to do anything," I hissed, "I just want to live my life."
"Oh yeah?" she smirked, "And how is that going?"
I was about to say "fine," but paused myself, and, well, let a lot of it out. About how Tanya and Melanie were on bad terms and I was caught in the middle, and how I had a thing for Mel but she turned me down, and how I was sick of all the resentment and bitterness that was flying around the house.
She got a flicker in her eyes. "Sounds like you're thinking about running away."
That started me off. I told her in no way was I considering going back to the Inn again, after all the shit I've had to deal with. It tempts me every day to go back and start again, to wipe the slate clean, but sometimes in life you just need to take the hand you're dealt. Going to the Inn really is a curse... knowing it's there makes you question every moment of your life. But I told her I was determined to ride it all out and keep going with this life as long as I could.
"That's a shame," she rolled her eyes, "Because you know, I've been trying to help my daughter with something, and I was hoping you'd want to take part."
That struck me. She knew I was carrying some guilt for Roger being Lily and was using it against me. I had no choice but to hear her out. Damn my conscience.
"Well," she continued, "As you know, January will be the time to start making plans to go back to the Inn. I don't usually go on an annual basis, but this situation warrants it. Despite what those people reading your blog think, I'm not a monster" -- she sneered while saying this, and used a far less polite expression than "people" -- "They think I'm doing this for my own amusement. Believe me, I'd like nothing more than to be free of responsibility. And if it weren't for you, I wouldn't have a daughter whining about going back to his wife and kids."
"No, you'd have me."
"Exactly. And you could handle it. Being a little girl, having the childhood you never got, or else having to go back to a different body altogether, you're a pro. Look at you! I bet you're even dating. Come on, there's some hot waitresses around here."
I probably looked embarrassed as I muttered that the misadventure with Melanie was my only foray into romance. She smirked. "And here I thought you were all man now. Whatever. You're still pretty adaptable, but as you can guess, Roger isn't up to it. So I'm trying to help him."
My eyebrows perked up. "Is there a problem?"
She nodded. "They've got his body," she said, "Roger's."
I paused, "Who've got his body?"
She cleared her throat. "I don't know who they are. Maybe they're those Pygmalion people your blog friends are always babbling about. Maybe it's someone else. I tried to negotiate with them to get his body back, but he told me not to call anymore. What does that sound like to you?"
I said quietly, "So what now?"
"Like I said, I'm not a monster. I don't want a daughter who's going to spend the rest of her life complaining about how she used to have a dick. And I'm not going to go through the guilt of leaving her behind when I make my next trip. So what I want is assurance that she can get a male body."
I said flatly, "You want me to give Roger my body?"
"If necessary, yes. Please. Consider it a favour to me. Consider it a way to ease your guilt. Look, there's something else I want to give you. Come by my hotel room tonight around 9." She wrote her room number on a napkin, then paid her bill and left.
Against my better judgment, I went. She answered the door in a lacy red bra and panties. I was... surprised. She pulled me in.
When I asked her what the hell she was up to, she made her pitch quickly. "Look, it's sad. If you can't get your little girlfriend to feel the same way, that sucks, but you shouldn't let it stop you from enjoying yourself. So consider this a freebie."
"What if I politely decline?"
"Then you're the biggest pussy I know. Come on. I'm gorgeous. I don't like my husband very much. I want this. Go on and tell me you don't." She had her hands all over me.
I got an immense headache just trying to deal with the mental whiplash. I was still somewhat thinking of this person as the scumbag who had come onto me in Maine. In effect, she still was, but in a body I liked more. God help me, I couldn't resist. At the first sight of her, my dick made it perfectly clear of its opinion.
I began to disrobe. When I was down to my boxers, I sato n the bed next to her and began to kiss her.
"Uh uh," she stopped me between pleasure moans, "This isn't high school, Maxy. I'm not your girlfriend. If you're gonna kiss me, it's not gonna be on my mouth." Jesus, who talks like that?
So I laid her back on the bed and began to run my hands all over her as sensually as I could,. I wanted to savor the sensation because, as eager as I was to get down to business, I hadn't felt a woman's body since well before I realized I had the desire for one. She grunted and moaned with pleasure, and it was music to my ears. Soon she began to speed up, and I upped my pace to match. She thrust her legs open and dared me to "show her what I've got."
We had hot, sweaty, illicit sex for about ten minutes or so, and then suddenly she stopped and said "Okay, okay, just finish up already." I swear, this woman. She didn't even seem like she'd had an orgasm, and I like to think I would've noticed.
It was really mercenary and frankly gross, and after it was over I remembered exactly what sort of person I was with. I asked her what all this was really about.
Re-clasping her bra, she told me that in this body, she felt sexy, and wanted that acknowledged, if just this one time. She had had sex with her new husband, but they apparently didn't click. I asked her whether we "clicked."
She flashed that evil smile of hers and said "If you have to ask, you have your answer. Still, it was quite nice. And I consider it a favour to you, and if you want more, you know how to get it."
"I'm not going all the way out to find you just for a booty call," I said flatly.
"I wasn't talking about me. I'm just helping you take a step in a direction you were already looking. now put your pants on, I have an early flight and need my beauty rest."
Women.
She was right, of course. I'd been yearning for female companionship, and was really starting to get a bit down on myself after Melanie's (quite justifiable) rejection. It didn't mean I couldn't look elsewhere.
Friday, February 25, 2011
Bryan: Whatever happened to the teenage dream?
OK, guys, I would like to start by saying the title of this post is NOT a reference to the Katy Perry song, but to the T. Rex classic.
I haven't checked in lately. Mainly, there's nothing to report: I take pictures for a living, I sometimes get to play guitar with Todd, and I've been dating Shelby. So if you're really interested in the details of the coffee date we had last Wednesday, I'd provide them, but I'm guessing that's a bit too far off the usual subject matter of this blog.
For me, even though Connecticut is way in the past, and I sort of assume I'll never see Crystal again, I still sometimes think about it. I mean, no matter what, my time as Ellie is part of me, and I think it kinda helped me grow up, to feel like a bratty teenager. It's also kinda tempting, if and when things get bad, to think there's a place where I could go and get someone else's life for a while, if I wanted. Thinking about that mostly keeps happy where I am, since I'm well aware of the "grass is always greener" nature of the inn. I mean, for shit's sake, I was hospitalized with a panic attack because a girl broke up with me.
I think about Leanne sometimes though. Not just in a "wonder what she's up to" kinda way, but I think about my time with her. For better or worse, I've never had a relationship like I had with her. So much of my tension and frustration about being stuck in a teenage girl's body was applicable to the situation of two girls sneaking around, so she seemed to understand me better than most. Even Crystal -- we could talk about Inn stuff, but there was a whole other level separating our experiences. I never had to explain myself to Leanne.
The other night I dreamed about her. It sucks how you can't control what you dream about, so stuff you long thought you were done with bubble back to the surface of your mind. I remember her hand on my chest, her fingers teasing me, her lips touching mine, her body close to me... and for a second I forgot I was lying in bed with a really great girl.
I spent the rest of the night unable to sleep. I just laid perfectly still with my eyes clamped shut trying to get back to sleep so I could dream about anything else. I started fixating on this idea that Shelby and I could go to the Inn and no matter what happened, we'd have that in common. But I wouldn't drag anyone into this life, it would be a fucking awful thing to do.
At about 6 AM I decided I wasn't going to get back to sleep, so I did a few things: first, I scrawled down some lyrics, the second, I wrote an e-mail.
The lyrics were a rough attempt at getting my feelings on the matter out. They're not very good, but I can't just chuck them out. It's therapeutic. The main problem is, it's pretty explicitly about longing for an ex, or at least, the memory of an ex (I called it "The Memory Of You") which would be pretty awkward to play while my current girlfriend is drumming in my band. I'm still not even sure how I'm supposed to be feeling... the song is about that complication.
The e-mail was a lot easier in helping me relax. It was to Ellie, of all people. I have hardly talked to her since we got changed back, although Todd has had some contact with Anne Marie. I have no idea what she's up to, what her life's like, who her friends are now, if she dates. It seems a bit odd that I was this girl for nearly a year, and yet I thought I could just put her life back and walk away.
So I fired that e-mail off to what I think is still her address, and have yet to hear back. Maybe something will come from drudging up the past, or maybe I'm just making more trouble for myself.
I haven't checked in lately. Mainly, there's nothing to report: I take pictures for a living, I sometimes get to play guitar with Todd, and I've been dating Shelby. So if you're really interested in the details of the coffee date we had last Wednesday, I'd provide them, but I'm guessing that's a bit too far off the usual subject matter of this blog.
For me, even though Connecticut is way in the past, and I sort of assume I'll never see Crystal again, I still sometimes think about it. I mean, no matter what, my time as Ellie is part of me, and I think it kinda helped me grow up, to feel like a bratty teenager. It's also kinda tempting, if and when things get bad, to think there's a place where I could go and get someone else's life for a while, if I wanted. Thinking about that mostly keeps happy where I am, since I'm well aware of the "grass is always greener" nature of the inn. I mean, for shit's sake, I was hospitalized with a panic attack because a girl broke up with me.
I think about Leanne sometimes though. Not just in a "wonder what she's up to" kinda way, but I think about my time with her. For better or worse, I've never had a relationship like I had with her. So much of my tension and frustration about being stuck in a teenage girl's body was applicable to the situation of two girls sneaking around, so she seemed to understand me better than most. Even Crystal -- we could talk about Inn stuff, but there was a whole other level separating our experiences. I never had to explain myself to Leanne.
The other night I dreamed about her. It sucks how you can't control what you dream about, so stuff you long thought you were done with bubble back to the surface of your mind. I remember her hand on my chest, her fingers teasing me, her lips touching mine, her body close to me... and for a second I forgot I was lying in bed with a really great girl.
I spent the rest of the night unable to sleep. I just laid perfectly still with my eyes clamped shut trying to get back to sleep so I could dream about anything else. I started fixating on this idea that Shelby and I could go to the Inn and no matter what happened, we'd have that in common. But I wouldn't drag anyone into this life, it would be a fucking awful thing to do.
At about 6 AM I decided I wasn't going to get back to sleep, so I did a few things: first, I scrawled down some lyrics, the second, I wrote an e-mail.
The lyrics were a rough attempt at getting my feelings on the matter out. They're not very good, but I can't just chuck them out. It's therapeutic. The main problem is, it's pretty explicitly about longing for an ex, or at least, the memory of an ex (I called it "The Memory Of You") which would be pretty awkward to play while my current girlfriend is drumming in my band. I'm still not even sure how I'm supposed to be feeling... the song is about that complication.
The e-mail was a lot easier in helping me relax. It was to Ellie, of all people. I have hardly talked to her since we got changed back, although Todd has had some contact with Anne Marie. I have no idea what she's up to, what her life's like, who her friends are now, if she dates. It seems a bit odd that I was this girl for nearly a year, and yet I thought I could just put her life back and walk away.
So I fired that e-mail off to what I think is still her address, and have yet to hear back. Maybe something will come from drudging up the past, or maybe I'm just making more trouble for myself.
Saturday, February 19, 2011
Tori: I'm not so great with romance but...
He left on Sunday the 13th, so we had to figure out something Valentines-y to do before that. We decided Friday the 11th would be "our night."
He wanted to make it all about me -- flowers, chocolates, all that stuff. I told him I really wasn't in it for the Hallmark stuff. He said he had a "pretty good idea" what my gift to him was (and he wasn't wrong) so he wanted to turn up the romance in anticipation. So when I got home from my shift at the shop, he had this whole Shrimp Alfredo meal made up. I didn't even know he could cook! Mostly when he was living out of a hotel, we were going out to eat all the time. He said in had come in handy when he was a single guy, and I nearly told him I was the same way... that could've been awkward. It's so rare I even think about stuff from my old life unless I'm sitting here writing on the blog.
I led him to the bedroom and told him to get comfortable. He noticed there were candles all around, and I pointed out that yeah, while I'm not "about" the Hallmark stuff, I still like a nice mood. Maybe that's me being girly. He says it's why he likes me. I tell him to wait while I "prepare" things.
When I came back to the door, I was dressed in a tight, tight miniskirt that makes my ass look amazing, nylons, a blouse, and high heels. He's always said how much he goes for that look, and I rarely have a chance to put it on for him. He sat up when he saw how I was dressed. Then he saw what I had hidden behind me... a pair of handcuffs.
Okay, that's not the kind of thing you just spring on a guy. But one weekend while we were in New York, we went into a sex shop for a laugh, and while I was marveling at vibrators, I noticed him handling set of cuffs in a more-than-curious way. I even asked him, and he said he thought they were "neat." So I bought a pair... for a special occasion. He asked me what I was thinking. I told him he could have a choice: freedom... or chains. I don't know why, but I really thought he was going to pick freedom. Luckily, I was hoping he wouldn't.
So I cuffed him to the headboard, and slowly, slowly began to work him over. I ran my hands up his thighs. I rubbed my breasts against him. Softly ran my tongue all over him... made him watch as I slowly undressed, pulled down my stockings, unbuttoned my blouse, slipped my bra off, one strap after the other, and crawled over to him... I could tell he was suffering such intense agony, such lust, he couldn't control himself. When I decided he was finally ready, I got really busy.
It must've been painful for him. I've never been in that situation, but I can imagine what it's like to have a woman there, teasing you, working over every inch of your body, when all you want to do is get inside and fuck her-- and honestly, it was hard to restrain myself from just climbing on and rocking him senseless, but I needed to go slow. I needed to take every second I could with him because it might be a while before we get to go again. So I felt every inch of his skin, rubbed every muscle he had, made him moan and groan and beg me for mercy. I made him watch while I touched myself, warmed my body up for him, and then finally, after I felt I could do no more... I was ready to get started.
Given the circumstances, I guess I can't blame him for not lasting very long. He's usually pretty good but I'd be lying if I said he was an hour-long type of guy. He's usually only good for a good ten, fifteen minutes tops. Here, with all the extra stuff, by the time we got to the nitty gritty, he was about ready to explode anyway. Maybe I was expecting too much; I know how little control guys have over their stuff, but, I don't know, maybe I had mentally convinced myself he could tough it out.
Anyway, it was good. I know we both enjoyed it. But he was real quiet afterward, like, I guess he didn't like the handcuffs so much after all, or I had overdone it with the pregame. He wouldn't talk to me about it. Men can be so tough when something's bothering them. The few women I ever dated were always very open -- perhaps too much so. I just want a happy medium. Ultimately, it was a pretty awkward way for us to leave off. We've talked a bunch since he got to Texas, but he hasn't mentioned it, so I guess the topic is dead.
Anyway, he's gone now, so that leaves me alone for my day to day life. Days I'm in class, evenings I work at the shop selling skirts and tops and panties and whatnot. Pretending I know how to offer fashion advice. I'll tell you more about that later. Raine and I are gonna go watch Life As We Know It and make fun of it.
Just another Saturday night, I suppose...
He wanted to make it all about me -- flowers, chocolates, all that stuff. I told him I really wasn't in it for the Hallmark stuff. He said he had a "pretty good idea" what my gift to him was (and he wasn't wrong) so he wanted to turn up the romance in anticipation. So when I got home from my shift at the shop, he had this whole Shrimp Alfredo meal made up. I didn't even know he could cook! Mostly when he was living out of a hotel, we were going out to eat all the time. He said in had come in handy when he was a single guy, and I nearly told him I was the same way... that could've been awkward. It's so rare I even think about stuff from my old life unless I'm sitting here writing on the blog.
I led him to the bedroom and told him to get comfortable. He noticed there were candles all around, and I pointed out that yeah, while I'm not "about" the Hallmark stuff, I still like a nice mood. Maybe that's me being girly. He says it's why he likes me. I tell him to wait while I "prepare" things.
When I came back to the door, I was dressed in a tight, tight miniskirt that makes my ass look amazing, nylons, a blouse, and high heels. He's always said how much he goes for that look, and I rarely have a chance to put it on for him. He sat up when he saw how I was dressed. Then he saw what I had hidden behind me... a pair of handcuffs.
Okay, that's not the kind of thing you just spring on a guy. But one weekend while we were in New York, we went into a sex shop for a laugh, and while I was marveling at vibrators, I noticed him handling set of cuffs in a more-than-curious way. I even asked him, and he said he thought they were "neat." So I bought a pair... for a special occasion. He asked me what I was thinking. I told him he could have a choice: freedom... or chains. I don't know why, but I really thought he was going to pick freedom. Luckily, I was hoping he wouldn't.
So I cuffed him to the headboard, and slowly, slowly began to work him over. I ran my hands up his thighs. I rubbed my breasts against him. Softly ran my tongue all over him... made him watch as I slowly undressed, pulled down my stockings, unbuttoned my blouse, slipped my bra off, one strap after the other, and crawled over to him... I could tell he was suffering such intense agony, such lust, he couldn't control himself. When I decided he was finally ready, I got really busy.
It must've been painful for him. I've never been in that situation, but I can imagine what it's like to have a woman there, teasing you, working over every inch of your body, when all you want to do is get inside and fuck her-- and honestly, it was hard to restrain myself from just climbing on and rocking him senseless, but I needed to go slow. I needed to take every second I could with him because it might be a while before we get to go again. So I felt every inch of his skin, rubbed every muscle he had, made him moan and groan and beg me for mercy. I made him watch while I touched myself, warmed my body up for him, and then finally, after I felt I could do no more... I was ready to get started.
Given the circumstances, I guess I can't blame him for not lasting very long. He's usually pretty good but I'd be lying if I said he was an hour-long type of guy. He's usually only good for a good ten, fifteen minutes tops. Here, with all the extra stuff, by the time we got to the nitty gritty, he was about ready to explode anyway. Maybe I was expecting too much; I know how little control guys have over their stuff, but, I don't know, maybe I had mentally convinced myself he could tough it out.
Anyway, it was good. I know we both enjoyed it. But he was real quiet afterward, like, I guess he didn't like the handcuffs so much after all, or I had overdone it with the pregame. He wouldn't talk to me about it. Men can be so tough when something's bothering them. The few women I ever dated were always very open -- perhaps too much so. I just want a happy medium. Ultimately, it was a pretty awkward way for us to leave off. We've talked a bunch since he got to Texas, but he hasn't mentioned it, so I guess the topic is dead.
Anyway, he's gone now, so that leaves me alone for my day to day life. Days I'm in class, evenings I work at the shop selling skirts and tops and panties and whatnot. Pretending I know how to offer fashion advice. I'll tell you more about that later. Raine and I are gonna go watch Life As We Know It and make fun of it.
Just another Saturday night, I suppose...
Sunday, February 06, 2011
Tori: Love sucks
I'm sorry, but it does, at least for me. I mean, I guess I officially qualify. Whenever I'm with Buddy, I get nervous but in a good way, I get excited when I know I'm going to hang out with him, we get so comfortable together... it's a whole butterflies thing. Sheesh, a while back I didn't think anyone could make me feel this way, let alone a guy.
But it sucks. It sucks, it sucks, it sucks so much because even though I'm pretty sure I'm in love with him, I know we have problems and part of me is really scared it's not going to work out. But I guess that's part of being in a real relationship, is that if you care for somebody, you make it work.
A while ago, I made the mistake of telling him about Leo, the guy I was, um, screwing up until I started seeing him. I maybe didn't "break it off" immediately after Buddy and I started dating, but to me, the whole fling was over as soon as Buddy and I became an item.
It started because we were talking about personal issues, and how he wondered why I seemed to be in such a bad mood on New Year's. I decided it wouldn't hurt to tell him I'd been in a fistfight with Cyndi the night before, and eventually wound up spilling my guts that Leo was at the heart of it. The truth is, Leo and Cyndi had gotten back together so close to me and Leo ending it, I'm still not sure they didn't resume dating while Leo and I were going on. And here I was, thinking telling Buddy this made me look like the good guy.
Well, as he tends to do, he made it about himself. The entire time he'd known me I'd been sheepish about the sex thing, which is why we didn't end up dating right away. So I pushed him away (well, also because I thought I might be getting my male body back, but... yeah.) But, in Buddy's eyes, the second he left town I was all over Leo in this "purely physical" thing that I had passed him over on.
I called BS on that, because it was mainly a timing thing: he left town, I was feeling shitty, never sure if I'd see him again, and Leo was in the right place at the right time. He called BS on "timing" because it was apparently all up to me whether or not we could have dated, all summer. I told him I wasn't ready, he asked what changed, and I said I didn't know, but it was all in the past.
He spent that night at his sister's. I spent it crying on the couch eating comfort food with Raine.
But I guess the reason why the two of us work is that we're capable of putting this sort of thing behind us and getting back to our normal routine. He apologized, I apologized, we both apologized for apologizing so much and for a few weeks things went back to normal.
And God, what a great two weeks that was. I don't work a ton and he's not going to Texas yet, so we spend a lot of our time fooling around in bed, or trying to cook for each other, or going out for walks in the snow... I mean, this is great, this is the kind of relationship I always wanted (albeit I didn't always want to be the one with the... uh, yeah.)
It's just sucky that it has to be complicated. You can love someone, obviously, but that's not automatically going to make them into who you want them to be. You'll both still have difficulties and insecurities to overcome and it isn't as easy as you want it... but if you can't stand the thought of being without that person, well, yeah, I think that's love.
One last thing that sucks: he's going away soon. As in... before Valentines Day. And damnit, I wanted my first Valentine in a real relationship in years (and first as a girl, natch) to be worth writing about.
Oh well... guess we'll have to do something super-sexy on the 11th...
But it sucks. It sucks, it sucks, it sucks so much because even though I'm pretty sure I'm in love with him, I know we have problems and part of me is really scared it's not going to work out. But I guess that's part of being in a real relationship, is that if you care for somebody, you make it work.
A while ago, I made the mistake of telling him about Leo, the guy I was, um, screwing up until I started seeing him. I maybe didn't "break it off" immediately after Buddy and I started dating, but to me, the whole fling was over as soon as Buddy and I became an item.
It started because we were talking about personal issues, and how he wondered why I seemed to be in such a bad mood on New Year's. I decided it wouldn't hurt to tell him I'd been in a fistfight with Cyndi the night before, and eventually wound up spilling my guts that Leo was at the heart of it. The truth is, Leo and Cyndi had gotten back together so close to me and Leo ending it, I'm still not sure they didn't resume dating while Leo and I were going on. And here I was, thinking telling Buddy this made me look like the good guy.
Well, as he tends to do, he made it about himself. The entire time he'd known me I'd been sheepish about the sex thing, which is why we didn't end up dating right away. So I pushed him away (well, also because I thought I might be getting my male body back, but... yeah.) But, in Buddy's eyes, the second he left town I was all over Leo in this "purely physical" thing that I had passed him over on.
I called BS on that, because it was mainly a timing thing: he left town, I was feeling shitty, never sure if I'd see him again, and Leo was in the right place at the right time. He called BS on "timing" because it was apparently all up to me whether or not we could have dated, all summer. I told him I wasn't ready, he asked what changed, and I said I didn't know, but it was all in the past.
He spent that night at his sister's. I spent it crying on the couch eating comfort food with Raine.
But I guess the reason why the two of us work is that we're capable of putting this sort of thing behind us and getting back to our normal routine. He apologized, I apologized, we both apologized for apologizing so much and for a few weeks things went back to normal.
And God, what a great two weeks that was. I don't work a ton and he's not going to Texas yet, so we spend a lot of our time fooling around in bed, or trying to cook for each other, or going out for walks in the snow... I mean, this is great, this is the kind of relationship I always wanted (albeit I didn't always want to be the one with the... uh, yeah.)
It's just sucky that it has to be complicated. You can love someone, obviously, but that's not automatically going to make them into who you want them to be. You'll both still have difficulties and insecurities to overcome and it isn't as easy as you want it... but if you can't stand the thought of being without that person, well, yeah, I think that's love.
One last thing that sucks: he's going away soon. As in... before Valentines Day. And damnit, I wanted my first Valentine in a real relationship in years (and first as a girl, natch) to be worth writing about.
Oh well... guess we'll have to do something super-sexy on the 11th...
Friday, February 04, 2011
Max: Moving ahead
I guess I'm a bit lazy when it comes to writing my story out here. It's not that I don't have the time, but as we get further and further from the starting point, the story seems to change. But let's jump forward a bit.
All through the winter, it got colder and we all got a bit closer. Melanie continued to mesmerize me with her attitude. From everything I know about men, about people... about this blog, a man who's been transformed into a woman should not take it so... well. I don't mean she was out in skimpy outfits clubbing and hitting on dudes, I just mean, to watch her, to see her walking around and dressing herself, and speaking for herself, you'd never guess anything was amiss with her. Nothing seems to bother her. Hell, she even kept up with her homework. I found this confidence in the face of life-altering trauma... fascinating, and yeah, really kind of attractive.
Tanya, on the other hand... did not keep up so well. From the beginning, she took the change very hard. She's a very controlling woman in a situation where she has to play by someone else's rules (or the Inn's, or whatever.) Plus, it's become increasingly apparent she has some real body image issues... I don't think she's taken it well that Melanie is the "thin, modestly-curvy" sister and she's the, well... "big" one. I wouldn't say she's fat, but she has a noticeably fuller figure. And maybe, yeah... she's a bit overweight.
I guess around late fall, the cracks in their "relationship," such as it was, really started to become visible to her. It's not like they could present themselves as a couple out in the world, but Melanie was, I later learned, no longer willing to even pretend they were "together" in any sense. From my room beneath them, I could hear arguments.
Tanya: Where is this all coming from? You can't deny we had something! You can't pretend this never happened!
Melanie: I wouldn't! I wouldn't pretend it never happened, Tanya--
Tanya: Don't call me that, you know that's not my name--!
Melanie: It is! While we're here, it is, and I can't switch back and forth like that. Max knows exactly what I mean--
Tanya: Shut the fuck up! This is all so convenient for you, isn't it? You pretended like everything was fine but suddenly we get here and you--
Melanie: I "what?"
Tanya: Now you want to play girl, and dress cute and date boys...
My ears perked up. But it got quiet, and after a few minutes I heard the door slam and footsteps toward the door. I wondered which one was coming. Of course, it was Mel.
"Hey," she said. She had streaks of tears down her eyes and her arms folded across her body for warmth. "How much of that did you hear?"
"A lot. What was it about?"
She sat down on my couch-bed. "Who knows? I may be a woman, but that doesn't mean I've got them figured out."
I snickered, "Join the club." Mel was unamused.
"I guess," she said, "That was our breakup. Officially. I mean, we've been broken up for a long while now, but I just had to break the chain, just finally get it out there."
"So it's over? I mean, what if you guys go back, and..."
I trailed off and she picked up my meaning, "Even if we go back, even if we get where we belong, it won't fix things. I've seen a side of her, and she's seen a side of me, we're just... we don't belong together anymore, no matter who we are."
"Well that's unfortunate."
"It's okay. She's just mad she's not in control anymore. And she hasn't gotten laid in a while."
I wanted to laugh at it, it was intended to be a joke, but maybe there was some serious to it. Sex can be a real stress reliever, and some women don't handle dryspells as well as they'd like to. It's not like sitcoms, you know. And seeing her now-ex happy and confident and uninterested in her body must've really stung. Like, I get it. I've got my own crap to worry about, but I get it.
I just wanted to know if this meant there was room for me in Melanie's life.
Weeks passed. Things were tense. Tanya, like Melanie, began venting to me and I got to know her a bit better, but she remained guarded. She would repeat her claims that Melanie was clearly eager to start "playing girlfriend," for some male, but Mel insisted Tanya was way off base. As I was kind of into Melanie, I found this a bit hard to deal with, because if it was true, it gave me hope, but I definitely didn't want to push her before she was ready.
It was around early December that I "manned up" and put it on the line.
Mel and I had been seeing a lot of each other, spending time together outside the house, and I guess I began to take it as a sign she was ready for something. Progressively over the early weeks of winter, she got more and more familiar with me.
We were out at dinner one night and I just... came out with it. "Melanie... do you see me as a boyfriend?"
"What?"
"I mean, we hang out a lot. You don't socialize with many people other than me. We talk about everything. Am I, like, a boyfriend substitute for you?"
She hesitated for a long while before saying "Is that something... you'd want?"
I played coy. "Maybe... I mean, we seem to have some chemistry."
"Chemistry?" she balked, "I don't really think so. I mean, you're a great person, guy or girl, but... I mean, I don't see you that way. No offense. I mean, you know I'm not trying to date or anything, right?"
"Right."
"I've been in relationships for so much of my adult life, I don't know... I like not being with anybody. If anything, I see you as a way to protect against that-- Oh God, that came out wrong. It's just... it's not sexual, this thing. I'm not a sexual person, I don't think. It's a friendship, you know? It's companionship. But it's not... I don't want to put a label on it or... yeah."
I was stunned, heartbroken. She could tell I had been hurt and from then on has been a bit more distant from me. I tried not to let it show, but... I don't know. I guess I never really "confessed" my feelings, but it's clear she now knows what I was thinking.
All through the winter, it got colder and we all got a bit closer. Melanie continued to mesmerize me with her attitude. From everything I know about men, about people... about this blog, a man who's been transformed into a woman should not take it so... well. I don't mean she was out in skimpy outfits clubbing and hitting on dudes, I just mean, to watch her, to see her walking around and dressing herself, and speaking for herself, you'd never guess anything was amiss with her. Nothing seems to bother her. Hell, she even kept up with her homework. I found this confidence in the face of life-altering trauma... fascinating, and yeah, really kind of attractive.
Tanya, on the other hand... did not keep up so well. From the beginning, she took the change very hard. She's a very controlling woman in a situation where she has to play by someone else's rules (or the Inn's, or whatever.) Plus, it's become increasingly apparent she has some real body image issues... I don't think she's taken it well that Melanie is the "thin, modestly-curvy" sister and she's the, well... "big" one. I wouldn't say she's fat, but she has a noticeably fuller figure. And maybe, yeah... she's a bit overweight.
I guess around late fall, the cracks in their "relationship," such as it was, really started to become visible to her. It's not like they could present themselves as a couple out in the world, but Melanie was, I later learned, no longer willing to even pretend they were "together" in any sense. From my room beneath them, I could hear arguments.
Tanya: Where is this all coming from? You can't deny we had something! You can't pretend this never happened!
Melanie: I wouldn't! I wouldn't pretend it never happened, Tanya--
Tanya: Don't call me that, you know that's not my name--!
Melanie: It is! While we're here, it is, and I can't switch back and forth like that. Max knows exactly what I mean--
Tanya: Shut the fuck up! This is all so convenient for you, isn't it? You pretended like everything was fine but suddenly we get here and you--
Melanie: I "what?"
Tanya: Now you want to play girl, and dress cute and date boys...
My ears perked up. But it got quiet, and after a few minutes I heard the door slam and footsteps toward the door. I wondered which one was coming. Of course, it was Mel.
"Hey," she said. She had streaks of tears down her eyes and her arms folded across her body for warmth. "How much of that did you hear?"
"A lot. What was it about?"
She sat down on my couch-bed. "Who knows? I may be a woman, but that doesn't mean I've got them figured out."
I snickered, "Join the club." Mel was unamused.
"I guess," she said, "That was our breakup. Officially. I mean, we've been broken up for a long while now, but I just had to break the chain, just finally get it out there."
"So it's over? I mean, what if you guys go back, and..."
I trailed off and she picked up my meaning, "Even if we go back, even if we get where we belong, it won't fix things. I've seen a side of her, and she's seen a side of me, we're just... we don't belong together anymore, no matter who we are."
"Well that's unfortunate."
"It's okay. She's just mad she's not in control anymore. And she hasn't gotten laid in a while."
I wanted to laugh at it, it was intended to be a joke, but maybe there was some serious to it. Sex can be a real stress reliever, and some women don't handle dryspells as well as they'd like to. It's not like sitcoms, you know. And seeing her now-ex happy and confident and uninterested in her body must've really stung. Like, I get it. I've got my own crap to worry about, but I get it.
I just wanted to know if this meant there was room for me in Melanie's life.
Weeks passed. Things were tense. Tanya, like Melanie, began venting to me and I got to know her a bit better, but she remained guarded. She would repeat her claims that Melanie was clearly eager to start "playing girlfriend," for some male, but Mel insisted Tanya was way off base. As I was kind of into Melanie, I found this a bit hard to deal with, because if it was true, it gave me hope, but I definitely didn't want to push her before she was ready.
It was around early December that I "manned up" and put it on the line.
Mel and I had been seeing a lot of each other, spending time together outside the house, and I guess I began to take it as a sign she was ready for something. Progressively over the early weeks of winter, she got more and more familiar with me.
We were out at dinner one night and I just... came out with it. "Melanie... do you see me as a boyfriend?"
"What?"
"I mean, we hang out a lot. You don't socialize with many people other than me. We talk about everything. Am I, like, a boyfriend substitute for you?"
She hesitated for a long while before saying "Is that something... you'd want?"
I played coy. "Maybe... I mean, we seem to have some chemistry."
"Chemistry?" she balked, "I don't really think so. I mean, you're a great person, guy or girl, but... I mean, I don't see you that way. No offense. I mean, you know I'm not trying to date or anything, right?"
"Right."
"I've been in relationships for so much of my adult life, I don't know... I like not being with anybody. If anything, I see you as a way to protect against that-- Oh God, that came out wrong. It's just... it's not sexual, this thing. I'm not a sexual person, I don't think. It's a friendship, you know? It's companionship. But it's not... I don't want to put a label on it or... yeah."
I was stunned, heartbroken. She could tell I had been hurt and from then on has been a bit more distant from me. I tried not to let it show, but... I don't know. I guess I never really "confessed" my feelings, but it's clear she now knows what I was thinking.
Tuesday, January 25, 2011
Tori: Under one roof
Since Buddy's job ended last week, he's been staying with me in Philly while we start moving my stuff over to my new place at Raine's. Sara's nearly moved out, so I can go over there anytime I want... I'm just having a hard time saying goodbye to the family.
I'm hoping having Buddy around will give me that motivation, because it's a little awkward knowing that dad will go down to the kitchen in the morning and see the guy who is banging his daughter sitting at the kitchen table. I mean, he's a cool guy and he takes it in stride, but I guess I imagine it's a front, like he'd rather not see that. I know I'd rather he didn't.
Really, it's been a remarkable step for our relationship. Before this, it was mainly about trying to keep the lines of communication open between sex. Now we're actually have to be together and do stuff. I mean, it's a lot of work. I'm used to having a lot of space and nothing to do, and now... it seems like we've always got to be doing something together.
I've been in relationships before. I never had sex as a guy, but I very nearly married my long-term girlfriend, so I know what it's like. I've just gotten so used to having nobody around that it's hard to update my routine. After the first few nights, we even started going to bed without having sex. I didn't know what to do. He wasn't even hard.
Now that I'm not working at the telemarketer, I was worried it would just be us sitting around the house all day bored, and then we'd eventually realize we didn't have much in common (totally not true) but I did get a new job. Thankfully it wasn't as hard as last time, because in the time since I've worked there I've managed to get enough new contacts and references that speak to me as a person (not just a hairdresser, as Tori was) that I got a job at one of the first places where I applied. This was especially weird since it was just past the holidays, so I wouldn't have thought it would be available.
It's nothing much, just a little clothing shop, a little boutique that opened up. I guess I got a bit of a feel for it since shopping with Raine. I've only worked like 20 hours per week since I started, but the girls there are really nice. The main catch is that they prefer we wear the stuff we sell, so I can't go to work in jeans and a t-shirt anymore (not that I thought I would be.) The clothes themselves aren't that remarkable, although I do look good in them.
Of course, this became a thing with Buddy, who's always tried to get me to dress sexier for him. I told him, here I thought I was sexy no matter what, and he says yes, but he'd rather I look the part. I just rolled my eyes instead of starting another fight over it. I think it bothers him when I make decisions that aren't based around him. That could be a problem later.
Sigh, this whole Houston thing. I don't know if I'm going to want to go, but I don't feel like ending it with him. And I really don't know if I trust myself going back to being single. Last time I was single, I was dead-set against going home with anybody, now I don't know that my judgment will be so intact. That's not a very good reason for keeping a relationship. And I really do like him. Maybe I love him, definitely when he's not being an asshead about my hair or my outfits or my job or my life. But do I "Houston-love" him? I'm getting ahead of myself. I won't even be done "school" until April. He knows I'll be here until at least then. I just need to keep the relationship afloat until that.
The family seems to like him. He says all the right things to mom and dad, he even won Mae over, so she doesn't judge me for dating him. Although if she nudges me and says "You should let him get you pregnant soon" again, I'm gonna smack her.
We're in a good place, I just need to be ready for it all to change.
I'm hoping having Buddy around will give me that motivation, because it's a little awkward knowing that dad will go down to the kitchen in the morning and see the guy who is banging his daughter sitting at the kitchen table. I mean, he's a cool guy and he takes it in stride, but I guess I imagine it's a front, like he'd rather not see that. I know I'd rather he didn't.
Really, it's been a remarkable step for our relationship. Before this, it was mainly about trying to keep the lines of communication open between sex. Now we're actually have to be together and do stuff. I mean, it's a lot of work. I'm used to having a lot of space and nothing to do, and now... it seems like we've always got to be doing something together.
I've been in relationships before. I never had sex as a guy, but I very nearly married my long-term girlfriend, so I know what it's like. I've just gotten so used to having nobody around that it's hard to update my routine. After the first few nights, we even started going to bed without having sex. I didn't know what to do. He wasn't even hard.
Now that I'm not working at the telemarketer, I was worried it would just be us sitting around the house all day bored, and then we'd eventually realize we didn't have much in common (totally not true) but I did get a new job. Thankfully it wasn't as hard as last time, because in the time since I've worked there I've managed to get enough new contacts and references that speak to me as a person (not just a hairdresser, as Tori was) that I got a job at one of the first places where I applied. This was especially weird since it was just past the holidays, so I wouldn't have thought it would be available.
It's nothing much, just a little clothing shop, a little boutique that opened up. I guess I got a bit of a feel for it since shopping with Raine. I've only worked like 20 hours per week since I started, but the girls there are really nice. The main catch is that they prefer we wear the stuff we sell, so I can't go to work in jeans and a t-shirt anymore (not that I thought I would be.) The clothes themselves aren't that remarkable, although I do look good in them.
Of course, this became a thing with Buddy, who's always tried to get me to dress sexier for him. I told him, here I thought I was sexy no matter what, and he says yes, but he'd rather I look the part. I just rolled my eyes instead of starting another fight over it. I think it bothers him when I make decisions that aren't based around him. That could be a problem later.
Sigh, this whole Houston thing. I don't know if I'm going to want to go, but I don't feel like ending it with him. And I really don't know if I trust myself going back to being single. Last time I was single, I was dead-set against going home with anybody, now I don't know that my judgment will be so intact. That's not a very good reason for keeping a relationship. And I really do like him. Maybe I love him, definitely when he's not being an asshead about my hair or my outfits or my job or my life. But do I "Houston-love" him? I'm getting ahead of myself. I won't even be done "school" until April. He knows I'll be here until at least then. I just need to keep the relationship afloat until that.
The family seems to like him. He says all the right things to mom and dad, he even won Mae over, so she doesn't judge me for dating him. Although if she nudges me and says "You should let him get you pregnant soon" again, I'm gonna smack her.
We're in a good place, I just need to be ready for it all to change.
Wednesday, January 19, 2011
Max: The Grind
Hectic early days of transformation turned into routine. Life slowed down. My life became a blur of work and home, nothing really seemed important. I was in serious danger of going on autopilot, which is bad news. When you step into someone else's body and life, stagnancy is hard to stave off, because you just don't know what to do.
I had the monkey on my back of attraction to Melanie. I would catch myself glancing her way at dinner, trying to find moments when she wasn't looking to get a glimpse of her face, her body. Wondering, if I was feeling this way about her, what was to stop her from thinking about me? But I was loaded with doubt. It wasn't likely she was there yet, not to mention, her "sister" slash "girlfriend" or whatever you want to think about their relationship, in plain view of the both of us. I couldn't in flinch in Melanie's direction without Tanya being aware. For a few weeks I barely spoke to anyone.
I can see the dining area from my station at work. Every time a pretty woman walks in I look over at her and try to think of her the way I had thought of Melanie. Sometimes I could see it taking shape. the way the blonde in the black dress might flick her hair to the side, or how the hipster girl with the glasses might look naked... and I thought to myself, I have the desire and the opportunity to go talk to any woman out there, if I want to. So what was stopping me?
A hot woman would walk into the store, and I know she's hot... like, guys, I know you have trouble admitting it when one of your own is attractive (and even pretend like you don't know) but women know. One of the guys in the kitchen would give me a nudge, and I'd just shrug like "She's ok," because she wasn't giving me that feeling.
Then the guy eventually asked, "Come on, man. What are you, gay?" And that question bothered me, so I just said "I don't know, maybe," expecting him to keep making fun of me for it.
But he didn't, oddly enough, he just went back to his work and said "Okay, let me know if you figure it out." Canadians!
Then a few weeks later, Melanie must've noticed I was acting weird around her, because she cornered me and kinda called me on it. She came down to the basement while I was playing Mario on the Wii and sat down next to me. I had no choice but to sit and talk with her.
"I just notice you getting really shifty around me, looking in my direction. We never talk, you don't hang around much. What's going on?"
She's got this "girl" thing down. Maybe it was the spell of the Inn putting her in that light for me, but she seemed so sensitive and delicate in her mannerisms I nearly spilled my guts.
But instead, I just kind of stammered out a response along the lines of, "Oh, I've just been giving you guys space, you know. I worry about you guys. I know this wasn't your first choice for how to end up..." I struggled to complete the thought, "It must be taking a real toll on you and her, and I'm not her favourite person, so I thought it'd be safer to just... keep my distance."
"Don't say that," she said, "Tanya thinks very well of you. She just doesn't show it well. She had a lot of anger pointed at you at the beginning, but I told her over and over that you had no more control over this than we did. Now she just wishes she felt like she could talk to you."
It's sad -- I had thought Tanya and I had had a nice moment early on, but I guess she wasn't immediately convinced about me. In faking concern for the two of them (well, it was real but not the real answer to her question) I found out how hard we had to work to bridge the gap between us.
I turned the subject over to two of them. "How are you guys... doing"
"Us?" she smiled that pretty, innocent smile, "There isn't really an 'us' anymore. We're done. Just don't tell her. I don't think she's ready to hear it."
"Oh really?"
"Well, come on, Max. Let's be honest here. We're not only both girls, but we're sisters, living under their mother's roof. It's been very hard to feel like a couple."
"Do you feel like sisters?"
She laughed, "To be honest, I feel like we're strangers. She still wants to talk to me like I'm a man, but there's this very obvious fact that I'm not. And it's sick, but this whole change has shown me how weak our relationship was. I'm starting to feel like it was always about sex for us. Without that, without planning dates and talking about work, and... and fucking, we don't have a lot of common ground."
"Sounds like you've thought about it."
"Believe me, I'll miss it. I'll miss her, but she's gone. She's not the woman I loved-- thought I loved. And I'm not her man anymore."
"But you say she's not ready to hear it?"
"I don't think so."
"So what does this mean for you?"
"It means..." she sighed. I watched her breasts raise and lower softly. "It means I live my life. This life. And she lives hers. And whatever happens to us, happens."
"And how does it feel you'll be living, at least for a while, as a girl?"
She scrunched her face up with a smile, "I'd rather not talk about it. Is that weird? I mean, I feel really comfortable around you and everything, I just... I'm not ready to dig into it. It's very... one day at a time. I know you used to be a girl, and Tanya's been really good about stuff, but I'm not going to want to start talking about it for a while yet."
"Well, whenever you're ready to talk, I'll be here."
"Thanks," she said, then laughed slightly, "That almost sounded like a come-on!"
I bit my tongue. It almost was.
I had the monkey on my back of attraction to Melanie. I would catch myself glancing her way at dinner, trying to find moments when she wasn't looking to get a glimpse of her face, her body. Wondering, if I was feeling this way about her, what was to stop her from thinking about me? But I was loaded with doubt. It wasn't likely she was there yet, not to mention, her "sister" slash "girlfriend" or whatever you want to think about their relationship, in plain view of the both of us. I couldn't in flinch in Melanie's direction without Tanya being aware. For a few weeks I barely spoke to anyone.
I can see the dining area from my station at work. Every time a pretty woman walks in I look over at her and try to think of her the way I had thought of Melanie. Sometimes I could see it taking shape. the way the blonde in the black dress might flick her hair to the side, or how the hipster girl with the glasses might look naked... and I thought to myself, I have the desire and the opportunity to go talk to any woman out there, if I want to. So what was stopping me?
A hot woman would walk into the store, and I know she's hot... like, guys, I know you have trouble admitting it when one of your own is attractive (and even pretend like you don't know) but women know. One of the guys in the kitchen would give me a nudge, and I'd just shrug like "She's ok," because she wasn't giving me that feeling.
Then the guy eventually asked, "Come on, man. What are you, gay?" And that question bothered me, so I just said "I don't know, maybe," expecting him to keep making fun of me for it.
But he didn't, oddly enough, he just went back to his work and said "Okay, let me know if you figure it out." Canadians!
Then a few weeks later, Melanie must've noticed I was acting weird around her, because she cornered me and kinda called me on it. She came down to the basement while I was playing Mario on the Wii and sat down next to me. I had no choice but to sit and talk with her.
"I just notice you getting really shifty around me, looking in my direction. We never talk, you don't hang around much. What's going on?"
She's got this "girl" thing down. Maybe it was the spell of the Inn putting her in that light for me, but she seemed so sensitive and delicate in her mannerisms I nearly spilled my guts.
But instead, I just kind of stammered out a response along the lines of, "Oh, I've just been giving you guys space, you know. I worry about you guys. I know this wasn't your first choice for how to end up..." I struggled to complete the thought, "It must be taking a real toll on you and her, and I'm not her favourite person, so I thought it'd be safer to just... keep my distance."
"Don't say that," she said, "Tanya thinks very well of you. She just doesn't show it well. She had a lot of anger pointed at you at the beginning, but I told her over and over that you had no more control over this than we did. Now she just wishes she felt like she could talk to you."
It's sad -- I had thought Tanya and I had had a nice moment early on, but I guess she wasn't immediately convinced about me. In faking concern for the two of them (well, it was real but not the real answer to her question) I found out how hard we had to work to bridge the gap between us.
I turned the subject over to two of them. "How are you guys... doing"
"Us?" she smiled that pretty, innocent smile, "There isn't really an 'us' anymore. We're done. Just don't tell her. I don't think she's ready to hear it."
"Oh really?"
"Well, come on, Max. Let's be honest here. We're not only both girls, but we're sisters, living under their mother's roof. It's been very hard to feel like a couple."
"Do you feel like sisters?"
She laughed, "To be honest, I feel like we're strangers. She still wants to talk to me like I'm a man, but there's this very obvious fact that I'm not. And it's sick, but this whole change has shown me how weak our relationship was. I'm starting to feel like it was always about sex for us. Without that, without planning dates and talking about work, and... and fucking, we don't have a lot of common ground."
"Sounds like you've thought about it."
"Believe me, I'll miss it. I'll miss her, but she's gone. She's not the woman I loved-- thought I loved. And I'm not her man anymore."
"But you say she's not ready to hear it?"
"I don't think so."
"So what does this mean for you?"
"It means..." she sighed. I watched her breasts raise and lower softly. "It means I live my life. This life. And she lives hers. And whatever happens to us, happens."
"And how does it feel you'll be living, at least for a while, as a girl?"
She scrunched her face up with a smile, "I'd rather not talk about it. Is that weird? I mean, I feel really comfortable around you and everything, I just... I'm not ready to dig into it. It's very... one day at a time. I know you used to be a girl, and Tanya's been really good about stuff, but I'm not going to want to start talking about it for a while yet."
"Well, whenever you're ready to talk, I'll be here."
"Thanks," she said, then laughed slightly, "That almost sounded like a come-on!"
I bit my tongue. It almost was.
Sunday, January 16, 2011
Tori C: A rough night for Victoria and her Buddy
When I got to New York, I was definitely expecting Buddy to be surprised at my new hairstyle, but I didn't expect him to flip out about it. I mean, it seems so innocent. It's just hair, it's not what defines me, it's not who I am. In fact, having short hair might make me more myself.
But when I took off my hat (a silly wool cap with ear flaps) and he saw what had happened, he just stared a while. "Well, that's... wow."
"Cute, right?"
He winced. "Uh, maybe? I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know? Everyone else has said it's nice."
"Well everyone else isn't dating you. I kinda would've liked a head's up at least."
"What's the big deal? It's just hair!"
Then he goes off on this whole thing about communication and trust and whatever, and how we're long distance so we should be paying special attention to that kind of thing because he can't be near me all the time -- and when I ask him just what is that supposed to mean, he says to drop it, it was a poor choice of words. I don't push the issue, but it still sticks with me.
I told him I didn't tell him because it was spur of the moment, and if I'd spent time talking to anyone about it, I probably wouldn't have done it, even though I'm happy with it. He insists I should have, and accuses me of making "a lot" of spur-of-the-moment decisions lately. Leaving my job, moving in with Raine. I guess he feels like we're on shaky ground. It seemed like neither of us could say the right thing, because I told him not to be insecure, and that sent him off into the snow for a few hours.
I had already called Ken to see if I could crash on their couch, if this fight was going to last all night, but I wanted him to come back first. I ordered up some food to tide me over since the two of us were clearly not eating together. He came back around 7, drunk, but I guess he hadn't eaten since he was mad I hadn't ordered anything for him.
I tried to apologize, but things just got worse until I finally just had to leave. I was in tears again, worrying about fucking up my first serious relationship as a girl right when it was starting to get good.
Ken and Jana were just about ready to get to bed by the time I arrived. And so was I, so I laid out on the couch with a comforter and tried to get some rest. Before I fell asleep, I heard a buzz in my purse. A text message from Buddy.
"I'm so sorry. I love you so much."
That hit like a fist in the face, and I spent so much time staring at it, trying to figure out what I wanted to say in response that I fell asleep without answering.
It didn't come up again the next day when we met up for breakfast, at this little corner cafe we like. Mostly we just talked about the future. In February, I'm starting night courses in computer repair -- it isn't anything I need to re-learn, but nobody knows that. Mainly I just want to brush up and get certified. It's a 6-week course and then I'll probably be able to get a job and just go on living my life.
That's when he told me he was moving around again. He's got a new gig in Houston, and if he's lucky it might become permanent. I went stone cold at this. If we were having this much trouble with him just a state over, how were we going to do with half a country between us?
Then he told me he was thinking, if it turns permanent, and we're in a good place, how would I feel about moving to Houston with him?
And I just didn't know what to think about it. Uproot myself again, leave this city, leave the family, commit, and basically give up the option to become Cliff again? I mean, I am basically done with that life, but I guess I just thought it would make an effective back-up plan if I ever needed it. I haven't even heard from Willie in months. Last I heard he was in England still.
I told him we'd see what happened. It's a possibility. But deep down it really feels like just too much to handle. To completely base my lie around this relationship? That would be different.
We went to the bus depot, and he told me to think about it and I said I would. I gave him a big hug and a kiss -- his lips were ice cold but his breath was so warm. We just stood there a while in our winter coats, holding each other, and he said to me, "Have a nice trip, Vic."
I looked up at him. He's never called me Vic before. I asked him where that came from and he said, "Your family all calls you Vic. I thought maybe I could call you that, too. Maybe since you're changing your life, you might like a new name. New haircut, new identity."
I smiled. It was a little bit of a dig, but kinda sweet also? Like, mean but also being cute, after all, it's a guy's name, and he makes it a point to remind me any time I do or say anything guyish, including my short hair. I told him it was all right if he wanted to keep calling me that. I've learned not to get too attached to names. You never know when you might wake up with a new one.
I kissed him on the cheek and told him goodbye. I spent the whole ride home wondering what Vic was gonna do next.
But when I took off my hat (a silly wool cap with ear flaps) and he saw what had happened, he just stared a while. "Well, that's... wow."
"Cute, right?"
He winced. "Uh, maybe? I don't know."
"What do you mean you don't know? Everyone else has said it's nice."
"Well everyone else isn't dating you. I kinda would've liked a head's up at least."
"What's the big deal? It's just hair!"
Then he goes off on this whole thing about communication and trust and whatever, and how we're long distance so we should be paying special attention to that kind of thing because he can't be near me all the time -- and when I ask him just what is that supposed to mean, he says to drop it, it was a poor choice of words. I don't push the issue, but it still sticks with me.
I told him I didn't tell him because it was spur of the moment, and if I'd spent time talking to anyone about it, I probably wouldn't have done it, even though I'm happy with it. He insists I should have, and accuses me of making "a lot" of spur-of-the-moment decisions lately. Leaving my job, moving in with Raine. I guess he feels like we're on shaky ground. It seemed like neither of us could say the right thing, because I told him not to be insecure, and that sent him off into the snow for a few hours.
I had already called Ken to see if I could crash on their couch, if this fight was going to last all night, but I wanted him to come back first. I ordered up some food to tide me over since the two of us were clearly not eating together. He came back around 7, drunk, but I guess he hadn't eaten since he was mad I hadn't ordered anything for him.
I tried to apologize, but things just got worse until I finally just had to leave. I was in tears again, worrying about fucking up my first serious relationship as a girl right when it was starting to get good.
Ken and Jana were just about ready to get to bed by the time I arrived. And so was I, so I laid out on the couch with a comforter and tried to get some rest. Before I fell asleep, I heard a buzz in my purse. A text message from Buddy.
"I'm so sorry. I love you so much."
That hit like a fist in the face, and I spent so much time staring at it, trying to figure out what I wanted to say in response that I fell asleep without answering.
It didn't come up again the next day when we met up for breakfast, at this little corner cafe we like. Mostly we just talked about the future. In February, I'm starting night courses in computer repair -- it isn't anything I need to re-learn, but nobody knows that. Mainly I just want to brush up and get certified. It's a 6-week course and then I'll probably be able to get a job and just go on living my life.
That's when he told me he was moving around again. He's got a new gig in Houston, and if he's lucky it might become permanent. I went stone cold at this. If we were having this much trouble with him just a state over, how were we going to do with half a country between us?
Then he told me he was thinking, if it turns permanent, and we're in a good place, how would I feel about moving to Houston with him?
And I just didn't know what to think about it. Uproot myself again, leave this city, leave the family, commit, and basically give up the option to become Cliff again? I mean, I am basically done with that life, but I guess I just thought it would make an effective back-up plan if I ever needed it. I haven't even heard from Willie in months. Last I heard he was in England still.
I told him we'd see what happened. It's a possibility. But deep down it really feels like just too much to handle. To completely base my lie around this relationship? That would be different.
We went to the bus depot, and he told me to think about it and I said I would. I gave him a big hug and a kiss -- his lips were ice cold but his breath was so warm. We just stood there a while in our winter coats, holding each other, and he said to me, "Have a nice trip, Vic."
I looked up at him. He's never called me Vic before. I asked him where that came from and he said, "Your family all calls you Vic. I thought maybe I could call you that, too. Maybe since you're changing your life, you might like a new name. New haircut, new identity."
I smiled. It was a little bit of a dig, but kinda sweet also? Like, mean but also being cute, after all, it's a guy's name, and he makes it a point to remind me any time I do or say anything guyish, including my short hair. I told him it was all right if he wanted to keep calling me that. I've learned not to get too attached to names. You never know when you might wake up with a new one.
I kissed him on the cheek and told him goodbye. I spent the whole ride home wondering what Vic was gonna do next.
Saturday, January 15, 2011
Tori C: Impulsive behavior
I've been an emotional mess lately. Things aren't even that bad, but I've felt so stressed out by life now that I'm trying to make things happen with it, it makes me just want to hide in my room curled up in a little ball.
I've been packing up my stuff for when I move in with Raine on February 1, into Sara's old room. It's a bit far in advance, but it's important for me to go through all this junk, both inherited from Tori and accumulated by me -- and decide what I want to bring along because I won't have a ton of room to myself. Compared to the last time I had a major life-altering move, I think it's reasonable to want some control.
Sara and Thom will be getting a one-room apartment elsewhere. It's weird how couplehood has pushed them to the edge of our friendship circle. Danny and I hang out way more than I do with Sara, and Raine has her way of keeping guys at arm's length. And me, my boyfriend is over in the next state, for now at least, and the situation's not looking any better.
I'm not especially looking forward to leaving the family behind. I mean, I'll still come over all the time, but I know it's going to change. It's like going off to college all over again, except this time the family has been demonstrably more interested in keeping me around. With all due respect to my "real" family, the Cliffords, they were never as good to me as the Pearces have been. And that's really sad to me. How much I love these people.
Speaking of love... here's the real core of my stress. Last weekend, I was lying in bed with Buddy. I had my lips around his dick -- I'm trying to decide whether I like doing that or if I'm just giving him what I think he wants. And he's running his fingers through my hair and moaning with pleasure, and he says, "Mmm, yeah... I love that."
It made me pause. I guess on its own, it's a meaningless statement, but that word has been working its way out of his lips more and more often. I make a joke about Ewoks, and he says, "I love that you say stuff like that." He sees me in a low-cut black dress and says, "I love you in that." I get out of the shower and he says, "I love your hair when it's wet." It's starting to really get to me, like he's working he way up to saying the three little words. Every time it comes up, he seems to get closer. Later that night, he had his arms around me and we were falling asleep, and he whispers, "I love spending time with you."
I mean, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. We've been together a while now. We have a lot of fun together, he seems to get me. I just never considered the possibility that it was really love and not just... dating. Screwing around. God help me when he actually says it. I don't know how I feel. I never honestly expect to get that close to a human being, not like this.
So I was thinking about all this and stressing out and taking inventory of my stuff when I made a decision, a harmless little decision to cut my hair. Like, all of it. I mean, I didn't shave my head, but I'm definitely rocking the pixie look now.
I had only been to a hair salon a few times since being Tori. My hair has definitely suffered neglect. I just get really uncomfortable with all the ritual of the salon scene, versus the male ability to get in a chair and get out with shorter hair. What's more, even though the long hair has always been a hassle to me, I was so dead-set against altering anything I'd gotten along with being Tori that it had to stay even after I learned I'd be her for a good long while.
So I finally womanned-up and set foot in the salon with a photo of Audrey Hepburn -- as cliche as it is -- and the hairdresser just smiled and said "I'll take care of you, hun."
Like an hour later, my hair was nice and short. No more ponytails or blowing in the breeze, no more waiting hours for it to dry, no more long hairs down the drain or waking up with it all over my face.
The family was taken by surprise, it wasn't like "me," since "I'd" always held my hair with such importance. "It's just something new," I said. Mom thought it looked nice. Dad rolled his eyes. Mae said she was jealous, and boys were going to think I was smart now. Thanks, Mae.
Then I decided to brave snowpocalypse again to go to New York. As nervous as I was about Buddy being in love with me, I was especially interested in his reaction.
It was... not great. Really surprising, actually.
I'd give you the details, but the fight is technically still happening. He went out for a walk in the snow just to cool down. Considering the temperature, it ought to work. I'm thinking about staying with Ken and Jana tonight. Sigh.
I'll get back to you.
I've been packing up my stuff for when I move in with Raine on February 1, into Sara's old room. It's a bit far in advance, but it's important for me to go through all this junk, both inherited from Tori and accumulated by me -- and decide what I want to bring along because I won't have a ton of room to myself. Compared to the last time I had a major life-altering move, I think it's reasonable to want some control.
Sara and Thom will be getting a one-room apartment elsewhere. It's weird how couplehood has pushed them to the edge of our friendship circle. Danny and I hang out way more than I do with Sara, and Raine has her way of keeping guys at arm's length. And me, my boyfriend is over in the next state, for now at least, and the situation's not looking any better.
I'm not especially looking forward to leaving the family behind. I mean, I'll still come over all the time, but I know it's going to change. It's like going off to college all over again, except this time the family has been demonstrably more interested in keeping me around. With all due respect to my "real" family, the Cliffords, they were never as good to me as the Pearces have been. And that's really sad to me. How much I love these people.
Speaking of love... here's the real core of my stress. Last weekend, I was lying in bed with Buddy. I had my lips around his dick -- I'm trying to decide whether I like doing that or if I'm just giving him what I think he wants. And he's running his fingers through my hair and moaning with pleasure, and he says, "Mmm, yeah... I love that."
It made me pause. I guess on its own, it's a meaningless statement, but that word has been working its way out of his lips more and more often. I make a joke about Ewoks, and he says, "I love that you say stuff like that." He sees me in a low-cut black dress and says, "I love you in that." I get out of the shower and he says, "I love your hair when it's wet." It's starting to really get to me, like he's working he way up to saying the three little words. Every time it comes up, he seems to get closer. Later that night, he had his arms around me and we were falling asleep, and he whispers, "I love spending time with you."
I mean, I guess I shouldn't be surprised. We've been together a while now. We have a lot of fun together, he seems to get me. I just never considered the possibility that it was really love and not just... dating. Screwing around. God help me when he actually says it. I don't know how I feel. I never honestly expect to get that close to a human being, not like this.
So I was thinking about all this and stressing out and taking inventory of my stuff when I made a decision, a harmless little decision to cut my hair. Like, all of it. I mean, I didn't shave my head, but I'm definitely rocking the pixie look now.
I had only been to a hair salon a few times since being Tori. My hair has definitely suffered neglect. I just get really uncomfortable with all the ritual of the salon scene, versus the male ability to get in a chair and get out with shorter hair. What's more, even though the long hair has always been a hassle to me, I was so dead-set against altering anything I'd gotten along with being Tori that it had to stay even after I learned I'd be her for a good long while.
So I finally womanned-up and set foot in the salon with a photo of Audrey Hepburn -- as cliche as it is -- and the hairdresser just smiled and said "I'll take care of you, hun."
Like an hour later, my hair was nice and short. No more ponytails or blowing in the breeze, no more waiting hours for it to dry, no more long hairs down the drain or waking up with it all over my face.
The family was taken by surprise, it wasn't like "me," since "I'd" always held my hair with such importance. "It's just something new," I said. Mom thought it looked nice. Dad rolled his eyes. Mae said she was jealous, and boys were going to think I was smart now. Thanks, Mae.
Then I decided to brave snowpocalypse again to go to New York. As nervous as I was about Buddy being in love with me, I was especially interested in his reaction.
It was... not great. Really surprising, actually.
I'd give you the details, but the fight is technically still happening. He went out for a walk in the snow just to cool down. Considering the temperature, it ought to work. I'm thinking about staying with Ken and Jana tonight. Sigh.
I'll get back to you.
Wednesday, January 12, 2011
Todd: New Years Gig
An old friend of ours who works in the kitchen of a dive club downtown heard that Bry and I had put together a new band and managed to get us a gig on New Years. The place was cramped and sketchy as anything, pretty much a basement, but a gig is a gig, free drinks are free drinks, and it's just generally nice to have something to do on New Years.
Shelby had been nervous playing in front of people for our first gig, but we've been working with her. She even attempted to bring one of her friends from school, a girl in her lit studies class, to the gig. This girl, apparently named Jewel, supposedly did show up but none of us ever saw her. For our part there were a lot of familiar faces around, who were happy to see us back in a band.
We played as part of a showcase, starting at around 10, with a minimal cut of the door and a small number of free drinks. We played about 45 minutes worth of the usual covers and three originals (Bry's been working on "Change You," a Nirvana-esque ode to the Inn that doubles as a metaphor for relationships... it's as good as anything he's ever written.) At Alia's urging, I did a bit more singing than I usually do including a deliberately bad singalong version of Oasis' "Wonderwall." Well, no matter what anyone else in the room says, I will say it was deliberate. But anyway, "Change You" and "Song for Crystal" two of our originals got a huge response, so that was encouraging.
After our set, we hung around a while, drinking and enjoying bands that were either:
a) Better than us
b) Better-rehearsed than us
c) Better friends with the management than us.
It was actually a really nice night, and we had a lot of fun. And then at midnight, I was kissing Alia, and out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Bryan and Shelby going at it. This was not an innocent "Hey we're friend's and it's New Years so why not" kiss. This was drunken sloppy "I've wanted this for a while and now is a good enough time" make out. It was pretty ostentatious.
Now, far be it from me to tell Bryan how to live his life, but I had to register my disapproval on a few grounds. First, Shelby just got out of a relationship with her last boyfriend, so it makes me uncomfortable to think Bry had something to do with that, or if he's just a rebound. Neither option is good, although if it's the latter it will just seem like the natural course of events. The former option bothers me because it doesn't reflect well on Bryan. Or Shelby.
Another reason is of course, band romances are a bad idea. It was one thing for a group like Fleetwood Mac to all be screwing each other, they were a huge band. We're just three people that play instruments, and if we're not careful, our rehearsals might quickly become a lame excuse for Bry and Shelby to mess around, and then the band just falls apart. And if they break up, there goes our little group.
So yeah, I take it a little personally. I didn't make much of it at the time, I thought fair enough if they just want to mess around, they should know what they're getting into. Then a few days later we were jamming and I asked if they wanted to get dinner, and they said they already had plans. Ay yi yi.
Bry and I had a conversation where I basically summarized the above points (otherwise I wouldn't have posted them somewhere he could find them) and he answered yeah, good points, but he's gonna just do what he feels is right.
Oy.
Well, that's on him. Plenty of drummers out there. Plenty of girls, too.
-Todd
Shelby had been nervous playing in front of people for our first gig, but we've been working with her. She even attempted to bring one of her friends from school, a girl in her lit studies class, to the gig. This girl, apparently named Jewel, supposedly did show up but none of us ever saw her. For our part there were a lot of familiar faces around, who were happy to see us back in a band.
We played as part of a showcase, starting at around 10, with a minimal cut of the door and a small number of free drinks. We played about 45 minutes worth of the usual covers and three originals (Bry's been working on "Change You," a Nirvana-esque ode to the Inn that doubles as a metaphor for relationships... it's as good as anything he's ever written.) At Alia's urging, I did a bit more singing than I usually do including a deliberately bad singalong version of Oasis' "Wonderwall." Well, no matter what anyone else in the room says, I will say it was deliberate. But anyway, "Change You" and "Song for Crystal" two of our originals got a huge response, so that was encouraging.
After our set, we hung around a while, drinking and enjoying bands that were either:
a) Better than us
b) Better-rehearsed than us
c) Better friends with the management than us.
It was actually a really nice night, and we had a lot of fun. And then at midnight, I was kissing Alia, and out of the corner of my eye, I spotted Bryan and Shelby going at it. This was not an innocent "Hey we're friend's and it's New Years so why not" kiss. This was drunken sloppy "I've wanted this for a while and now is a good enough time" make out. It was pretty ostentatious.
Now, far be it from me to tell Bryan how to live his life, but I had to register my disapproval on a few grounds. First, Shelby just got out of a relationship with her last boyfriend, so it makes me uncomfortable to think Bry had something to do with that, or if he's just a rebound. Neither option is good, although if it's the latter it will just seem like the natural course of events. The former option bothers me because it doesn't reflect well on Bryan. Or Shelby.
Another reason is of course, band romances are a bad idea. It was one thing for a group like Fleetwood Mac to all be screwing each other, they were a huge band. We're just three people that play instruments, and if we're not careful, our rehearsals might quickly become a lame excuse for Bry and Shelby to mess around, and then the band just falls apart. And if they break up, there goes our little group.
So yeah, I take it a little personally. I didn't make much of it at the time, I thought fair enough if they just want to mess around, they should know what they're getting into. Then a few days later we were jamming and I asked if they wanted to get dinner, and they said they already had plans. Ay yi yi.
Bry and I had a conversation where I basically summarized the above points (otherwise I wouldn't have posted them somewhere he could find them) and he answered yeah, good points, but he's gonna just do what he feels is right.
Oy.
Well, that's on him. Plenty of drummers out there. Plenty of girls, too.
-Todd
Thursday, January 06, 2011
Tori C: Confrontation
I went to New York to see Buddy on New Years, but I wasn't feeling up to our usual brand of fun.
I haven't told him exactly why, but I was in a bad mood because of the night before. I had gone out drinking with Raine and we ran into of all people Cyndi... and Leo.
I got a chill up my spine. Cyndi had seemed much warmer in the past few weeks, chalked up to finding a new boyfriend... I just hadn't realized it was her old boyfriend, the guy I had until recently been banging without commitment.
The sight of the two of them together made me... irrationally angry. I was just coming off my period and a ton of holiday stress and the sudden thought that Leo was so okay breaking it off with me because he was back to her -- the woman he would complain about more often than talking about anything else, because he knew I agreed -- nauseated me. The idea that he may have been screwing her before we "ended" hurt me even more.
I didn't think they'd noticed us in the bar, so I was just about over it when I stepped out to the snowy parking lot to find her waiting there for me in the cold.
I guess she had found out, because she wasn't so sweet to me as she had been recently. Which was fine, since I knew she was a big faker anyway.
I tried to be the bigger person, brush her off and go home, but she kept throwing words. She said I was a slut for going after her man. Said I was a bitch because she used to consider em a friend, but she realized how two-faced I was (excuse me?!) But the straw that broke the camel's back was when she began slinging the d-word... a derogatory term for a homosexual female I won't repeat here.
That got my temper up like it's never been. I'm used to crying, used to being. sad and feeling like things are pointless, but I haven't been mad in years. I walked back over to her and shoved her, demanded she take it back. My voice must've gotten really shrill as I tried to put so anger into it. She just repeated her taunt. I shoved her again. She slapped me. Wrong move.
I had a big brother, and I used to get bullied at school. I know a thing or two about fighting, although I've never actually had to fight anyone (just kinda meekly defend myself or roughhouse.) I put her in a headlock. She began to claw and scrape at me and pull my hair, until I let go. She tripped me but I got up in time to scuffle some more with her, and at some point I may have punched her lightly in the boob. She responded by kicking me right in the crotch. And I might not have balls anywhere, but getting hit someplace personal hurts.
Now I was mad. And in pain. And emotionally off the rails. And I just socked her right in the face.
That sent her down for a second. I can tell you she'd never been hit in the face before, and since she models, it must've really shaken her. She just sat there, holding her jaw. Hell, the next day at work her lip was swollen. But there, she was sitting there looking at me, wondering how all this got so far out of hand. And when I unclenched my fist, I had to stop and realized I'd just punched a girl in the face. And whether I'm a girl or not, it felt wrong.
I left work early the next day and took a bus to New York. The whole ride, all I could think about was why things got so far out of hand. Was I mad at Leo for going back to her? Mad at myself for caring? Like I said, the very sight of them being back together unsettled me, but the moment that broke me was when she started laying into me and Raine, and the messed up thing was, a year earlier, I had kissed Raine on New Years and not thought twice about it (well, maybe I had thought twice) and now the insinuation that she and I were "together" was somehow an insult to me? What the fuck has become of me? I hated that I had that reaction.
It made me distant and cold to Buddy when I got to his place. We went to a little gathering with an acquaintance of his, and I just kinda faded into the background like old times. Back at the hotel, when he called me on it, instead of explaining myself to him, I just gave him something I figured I owed him. A little attention... if you know what I mean.
Maybe it was for him, maybe it was for me, maybe it was for show. Maybe it was for something to talk about on this blog.
Either way, it didn't feel great when I woke up with his sticky, bitter taste in my mouth (next time: toothpaste AND mouthwash) still emotionally sore (and a little physically sore) from the past few days.
When I got back to Philly, I handed in my two weeks notice. I had made up my mind, but now seemed like as good a time as any.
As to what I'm doing next... I have some thoughts, but I'll let you know when it happens.
I haven't told him exactly why, but I was in a bad mood because of the night before. I had gone out drinking with Raine and we ran into of all people Cyndi... and Leo.
I got a chill up my spine. Cyndi had seemed much warmer in the past few weeks, chalked up to finding a new boyfriend... I just hadn't realized it was her old boyfriend, the guy I had until recently been banging without commitment.
The sight of the two of them together made me... irrationally angry. I was just coming off my period and a ton of holiday stress and the sudden thought that Leo was so okay breaking it off with me because he was back to her -- the woman he would complain about more often than talking about anything else, because he knew I agreed -- nauseated me. The idea that he may have been screwing her before we "ended" hurt me even more.
I didn't think they'd noticed us in the bar, so I was just about over it when I stepped out to the snowy parking lot to find her waiting there for me in the cold.
I guess she had found out, because she wasn't so sweet to me as she had been recently. Which was fine, since I knew she was a big faker anyway.
I tried to be the bigger person, brush her off and go home, but she kept throwing words. She said I was a slut for going after her man. Said I was a bitch because she used to consider em a friend, but she realized how two-faced I was (excuse me?!) But the straw that broke the camel's back was when she began slinging the d-word... a derogatory term for a homosexual female I won't repeat here.
That got my temper up like it's never been. I'm used to crying, used to being. sad and feeling like things are pointless, but I haven't been mad in years. I walked back over to her and shoved her, demanded she take it back. My voice must've gotten really shrill as I tried to put so anger into it. She just repeated her taunt. I shoved her again. She slapped me. Wrong move.
I had a big brother, and I used to get bullied at school. I know a thing or two about fighting, although I've never actually had to fight anyone (just kinda meekly defend myself or roughhouse.) I put her in a headlock. She began to claw and scrape at me and pull my hair, until I let go. She tripped me but I got up in time to scuffle some more with her, and at some point I may have punched her lightly in the boob. She responded by kicking me right in the crotch. And I might not have balls anywhere, but getting hit someplace personal hurts.
Now I was mad. And in pain. And emotionally off the rails. And I just socked her right in the face.
That sent her down for a second. I can tell you she'd never been hit in the face before, and since she models, it must've really shaken her. She just sat there, holding her jaw. Hell, the next day at work her lip was swollen. But there, she was sitting there looking at me, wondering how all this got so far out of hand. And when I unclenched my fist, I had to stop and realized I'd just punched a girl in the face. And whether I'm a girl or not, it felt wrong.
I left work early the next day and took a bus to New York. The whole ride, all I could think about was why things got so far out of hand. Was I mad at Leo for going back to her? Mad at myself for caring? Like I said, the very sight of them being back together unsettled me, but the moment that broke me was when she started laying into me and Raine, and the messed up thing was, a year earlier, I had kissed Raine on New Years and not thought twice about it (well, maybe I had thought twice) and now the insinuation that she and I were "together" was somehow an insult to me? What the fuck has become of me? I hated that I had that reaction.
It made me distant and cold to Buddy when I got to his place. We went to a little gathering with an acquaintance of his, and I just kinda faded into the background like old times. Back at the hotel, when he called me on it, instead of explaining myself to him, I just gave him something I figured I owed him. A little attention... if you know what I mean.
Maybe it was for him, maybe it was for me, maybe it was for show. Maybe it was for something to talk about on this blog.
Either way, it didn't feel great when I woke up with his sticky, bitter taste in my mouth (next time: toothpaste AND mouthwash) still emotionally sore (and a little physically sore) from the past few days.
When I got back to Philly, I handed in my two weeks notice. I had made up my mind, but now seemed like as good a time as any.
As to what I'm doing next... I have some thoughts, but I'll let you know when it happens.
Monday, January 03, 2011
Todd: A Quick MSN Convo
Alia: Hey what are you doing?
Todd: Homework
Alia: Lies
Todd: You can't prove that
Alia: Semester hasn't begun yet
Todd: I have a big assignment due in Jan I wanted to get ahead on
Alia: Still he lies!
Todd: For all you know that's true! I'm really responsible now!!
Alia: You went back to Maine didn't you! What's your name, lady?!
Todd: ...
Todd: Too far.
Alia: You laughed.
Todd: Nuh uh.
Alia: Todd I'm sitting at your desk, watching you on your bed, you're not doing homework. And you laughed.
Todd: K fine. I'm booking a vacation.
Todd: NOT MAINE.
Alia: I was gonna say...
Todd: Just pricing New York trips.
Alia: Sounds good.
Todd: Also looking at porn.
Alia: Of course.
Alia: Touching yourself?
Todd: Of course.
Alia: Pics plz.
Todd: http://thechive.com/2010/06/21/so-i-guess-this-is-the-popular-new-pov-sweet-26-photos/?obref=obinsite
Alia: Mmm u so hot i got a boner wanna fuk??
(Three hours of sex ensues)
Todd: Homework
Alia: Lies
Todd: You can't prove that
Alia: Semester hasn't begun yet
Todd: I have a big assignment due in Jan I wanted to get ahead on
Alia: Still he lies!
Todd: For all you know that's true! I'm really responsible now!!
Alia: You went back to Maine didn't you! What's your name, lady?!
Todd: ...
Todd: Too far.
Alia: You laughed.
Todd: Nuh uh.
Alia: Todd I'm sitting at your desk, watching you on your bed, you're not doing homework. And you laughed.
Todd: K fine. I'm booking a vacation.
Todd: NOT MAINE.
Alia: I was gonna say...
Todd: Just pricing New York trips.
Alia: Sounds good.
Todd: Also looking at porn.
Alia: Of course.
Alia: Touching yourself?
Todd: Of course.
Alia: Pics plz.
Todd: http://thechive.com/2010/06/21/so-i-guess-this-is-the-popular-new-pov-sweet-26-photos/?obref=obinsite
Alia: Mmm u so hot i got a boner wanna fuk??
(Three hours of sex ensues)
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