So like I said, I'm Ellie now. I'm a senior in high school, although if I get this body back to Ellie next summer she'll still have to make up a few credits, I've been told. Extra years in high school. Ugh. If this is what High School's always been like, I don't regret missing it.
I guess, though, before I get into any of that, I should explain more about how I got here, and who's with me. This is a long story. I'm in a creative writing class right now and we're encouraged to keep journals and do exercises. Since I can't be honest with them, I'll be honest with you.
I had made the deal with Fletcher/Beatrice at the beginning of the year, and I did always intend to honor it. I never gave a second thought about it. It felt like the right thing to do to ease my guilt about getting Roger into his predicament, spending a year as Beatrice's young daughter. I had promised to do everything in my power to leave him with my "Max" body.
Of course, that assumes Max's body was mine to give. A lot of people wind up in bodies they can't get out of; it's sad but it's true, and when I investigated I found this had happened to the original Max, Tanya and Melanie, in a way. Max and Tanya had wound up as parents to a newborn: Melanie. And there was no telling what effect bringing a newborn to the inn a second time might have. I told them there was a case in the blog where someone was turned into an infant and grew up comfortable but with memories of her past lives, and they seemed comfortable with that. I don't know if they ever reached out to the original parents, but in any case it always seems like there's a break in every chain somewhere.
I just have to throw up my hands at this point or else the guilt would come back. Roger's fate is the only one I'm responsible for, I can't fix everything now can I?
It was Fletcher who arranged my return to the Inn. He set me up with a reservation for three, assuming the girls -- the ones I was calling Melanie and Tanya -- would both want to come, and to complement her party of three.
Neither of the girls actually seemed that interested. If neither of them had to give up their new lives, why should they? And I didn't blame them. Melanie, formerly a guy, was really accepting of her new role, and Tanya was starting to soften too. I thought at least Melanie would appreciate the opportunity to get back to a form resembling her original, but they'd both given up contact with their original selves. To them, it was a matter of being "healthy and safe" here rather than risking it out there. This caused a rift between them and me. I even called Beatrice and told her I couldn't get them to come, and had to give up two of the reservations. She wouldn't allow it. My job was to fill two empty beds by any means I could. I said I wasn't intending to drag two innocent people to Maine when they had no idea what was going to happen to them. Beatrice told me it wasn't her problem. My case got more desperate.
The conflict between me and the girls got to the point where I had to move out of their house, as we were all living together with their "mom." It wasn't that there were hostilities or fights, I just harbored resentments and felt uncomfortable continuing to live there. By this point I had a few options.
See, after I made the deal, all I wanted was to keep my head down and my nose clean and get through to the end of Summer, when the reservation was set for. But life doesn't work that way and you meet people and make connections sometimes even when you don't.
There was a girl waitressing at the restaurant where I was washing dishes, and I guess she got really interested in me somehow. I had no conception of how I came across to her, but I guess because she's quite attractive, with blonde hair and a busty figure, she's used to guys being intimidated by her. I certainly couldn't help noticing her in the wake of my fling with Beatrice, when my sex drive really started to crank into overdrive. But I really, really didn't want to pursue. But somehow, the more I avoided her, the pushier she got until I finally just decided to let her into my life. We started dating not long after I posted about the deal, March.
So when I had to leave Tanya and Melanie's house, I had someone willing to put me up.
It was weird. I haven't written much about my past lives, but a lot of stuff that happened during my time as Sam made me very guarded about relationships. But I was determined at least to treat her with respect and kindness, and appreciate all she was doing for me. And I really, really cared about her. Hell, despite the fact that I had this secret hanging over my head, this deadline, I maybe even loved her.
Over the summer, things got worse for all of us. Eventually, my secrecy and sketchiness caused fight after fight, ending it after a few months. But during this time, something worse happened: Tanya was attacked.
I guess her "new life" wasn't as clean a slate as she thought. Some guys representing an old boyfriend with a drug problem and connections -- or maybe someone who was owed, I don't know -- found her behind a bar and cornered her. She escaped with a black eye and stitches, but the message was clear: this body, like any body, came with baggage. She needed out. I was happy to hear that, but obviously upset about the circumstances. We tried to convince Melanie, to no success.
Then one day, my girl came back home to me and said, "So, I ran into your friend Tanya today... I was wondering about this Maine trip you guys are planning."
I just about hard a freaking heart attack right there.
I mean, I don't know how I thought I could keep this whole thing a secret. I guess I figured we were bound to break up before the trip, and somehow the Inn power would work everything out without a third on our reservation. I'd break her heart, maybe leave her sad for a while (she's a good girl, she'd rebound fine I think) and never have to explain what really came between us. But before any of that happened, this did.
"Maine? Uh, I don't know what you're talking about."
I tried to play dumb but it was no use. She said she couldn't believe I was going about this all in secret, and I had to make like this was meant to be a surprise for the both of us, and I didn't tell her sooner because it wasn't confirmed. It was by sheer coincidence her birthday was in August. As to why Tanya was coming, well, "she's my friend and she's been through some trauma, you must understand, and she could use a vacation but she'll leave us alone."
Amazingly -- and much to my dismay -- that line of reasoning worked, and my girlfriend got her heart set on a vacation to Maine at the end of summer. I searched desperately for any way out but all the walls were closing in. I couldn't go back on my word, I couldn't let my girl down, I couldn't let Tanya stay in this dangerous lifestyle. I had to hope Fletcher and his friends were more able to handle it.
And that's how, on a humid August night, I found myself sprawled out in the darkness feeling my long, lean, lanky, rough-haired male body contract and curve and mold into a young, fresh-faced girl named Ellie McClay. And as interested as I was in my own strange transformation, I kept looking over to the figure in the darkness, the girl in my bed, who just rolled over and kept sleeping as her curvy, sexy self performed a change of its own.
And I wondered, what "magic" would the Inn perform tonight... would she be sister, brother, parent... lover? A man of age and distinction, a girl of twelve?
She became a teenage girl like me. Emily. A friend of Ellie's she'd dragged into this mess. The change must've been so subtle it didn't even wake her up, even as the muffled shock of others vibrated through the walls. There was a soft knock at the door. I opened it to find the face of a man. The girl I knew as Tanya was now my father, Mr. McClay.
It was a while before we learned that Ellie had been here before, that her body once belonged to Bryan, a friend of Alia's. That raised more questions: Why had she come back? And it couldn't just be a coincidence that we're in these bodies. Fletcher had only told us we'd be all right, but he claimed to have no knowledge of where we'd end up. I don't believe him, but I don't know what to think.
But none of this was on our mind at the time. I just kept running over the question I had had in mind ever since "Emily" decided we were definitely going to Maine together: what the hell was I going to tell her about me?
Monday, October 03, 2011
Tuesday, September 27, 2011
Todd: There's no road that ain't a hard road to travel alone...
Rock and roll is tough.
It turns out it's not very easy to book a rock and roll tour. Especially when you're the support and the headlining band gets sick and has to postpone when you're already out on the road. We spent a lot of August just waiting around in Toronto for stuff to happen.
Then, well, stuff happened.
We finished our Ohio swing in Mid-September. Now, Bryan's been my friend for years and years, but there's a difference between friend-Bryan and band-Bryan. When we're just jamming, gigging around our local haunts, there isn't really. Bry's a fun guy, doesn't worry to much when things go wrong, enjoys the fun things about being in a band, no worries. Tour Bryan? That's tough shit. I'm used to it, I've seen that side of him before. It's funny: He was so laid back and relaxed about becoming a teenage girl back in the day (we'll get to that in a bit) but stick him in a van and put him on the road fora month? Shit gets crazy.
Sometime after Ohio -- Cleveland in particular -- he and Shelby broke up. I was always a bit leery about having his girlfriend in the band, but at the time I thought they could handle it. They couldn't. Objectively, I think they're both to blame, with Shelby not being able to separate bandmate-Bryan from boyfriend-Bryan, and Bryan not recognizing how to keep things from getting to heavy.
I suspect, however, something happened in Cleveland, which was right before the big fallout. Cleveland is roughly in the neighbourhood of Bry's former girlfriend, Crystal, but if that had anything to do with it, he didn't tell me. It's too much of a coincidence to ignore, but there would be plenty fuel to that break-up without thinking about Crystal. But I can't shake the feeling there's more to this than meets the eye.
Then at some point we got the word from Max -- who had some contact with Alia (who is along for this Magical Misery Tour as our road manager, bless her.) -- about her new body. The very same body Bryan occupied only a couple of years ago. Again, we come back to not ignoring coincidences. I mean, it's strange, isn't it? If it was Fletcher's doing, how did he get Ellie to Maine? If not, what does that mean? I'm not detective, I wasn't even that much of a journalist, but I intend to do a little poking around while I'm down here.
This coming weekend, we'll be finishing up in Pennsylvania and NJ, stopping in on Tori and seeing how she's doing, and then all next week we'll be doing some gigs in New York City. We'll be spending a lot of time down there and as luck has it, the only contact info we could find for Ellie puts her new body there.
After that, it's New England: Connecticut, Vermont and Massachusetts before we circle back over the border and head for home. That should take us through October. It's kind of exciting to live this double life as a rock star and sort of a wannabe private eye.
So that's what I've been up to.
-Todd
It turns out it's not very easy to book a rock and roll tour. Especially when you're the support and the headlining band gets sick and has to postpone when you're already out on the road. We spent a lot of August just waiting around in Toronto for stuff to happen.
Then, well, stuff happened.
We finished our Ohio swing in Mid-September. Now, Bryan's been my friend for years and years, but there's a difference between friend-Bryan and band-Bryan. When we're just jamming, gigging around our local haunts, there isn't really. Bry's a fun guy, doesn't worry to much when things go wrong, enjoys the fun things about being in a band, no worries. Tour Bryan? That's tough shit. I'm used to it, I've seen that side of him before. It's funny: He was so laid back and relaxed about becoming a teenage girl back in the day (we'll get to that in a bit) but stick him in a van and put him on the road fora month? Shit gets crazy.
Sometime after Ohio -- Cleveland in particular -- he and Shelby broke up. I was always a bit leery about having his girlfriend in the band, but at the time I thought they could handle it. They couldn't. Objectively, I think they're both to blame, with Shelby not being able to separate bandmate-Bryan from boyfriend-Bryan, and Bryan not recognizing how to keep things from getting to heavy.
I suspect, however, something happened in Cleveland, which was right before the big fallout. Cleveland is roughly in the neighbourhood of Bry's former girlfriend, Crystal, but if that had anything to do with it, he didn't tell me. It's too much of a coincidence to ignore, but there would be plenty fuel to that break-up without thinking about Crystal. But I can't shake the feeling there's more to this than meets the eye.
Then at some point we got the word from Max -- who had some contact with Alia (who is along for this Magical Misery Tour as our road manager, bless her.) -- about her new body. The very same body Bryan occupied only a couple of years ago. Again, we come back to not ignoring coincidences. I mean, it's strange, isn't it? If it was Fletcher's doing, how did he get Ellie to Maine? If not, what does that mean? I'm not detective, I wasn't even that much of a journalist, but I intend to do a little poking around while I'm down here.
This coming weekend, we'll be finishing up in Pennsylvania and NJ, stopping in on Tori and seeing how she's doing, and then all next week we'll be doing some gigs in New York City. We'll be spending a lot of time down there and as luck has it, the only contact info we could find for Ellie puts her new body there.
After that, it's New England: Connecticut, Vermont and Massachusetts before we circle back over the border and head for home. That should take us through October. It's kind of exciting to live this double life as a rock star and sort of a wannabe private eye.
So that's what I've been up to.
-Todd
Friday, September 23, 2011
Not Max: It never ends
I have no life.
I disappeared from this blog for a long time. I wanted to make blogging my thing, but I felt really good just plugging into my life as Max it would be weeks between times where I'd think "I could blog about this" or update you on my life... It was so great just to feel like a normal guy. I didn't want it to end.
I'm a person who lives by his/her word. I promised Fletcher... Beatrice... I'd give Roger Max's body. It was my fault he was trapped in a little girl's body, and I didn't want that little girl to have to grow up like I did, and I definitely didn't want Roger to think his only future was as Fletcher's daughter. I wanted forgiveness.
I followed through with my promise, though. I went back to Maine. Fletcher brought Roger to Maine after that. By now they should be settled in in New Brunswick, and I'm here, crying my eyes out. Once a girl, always a girl. I used to be tougher, I swear, even when I was Sam.
So you want to know... where is here? Who am I? I mean, maybe none of you will ever know who I really am... maybe even I don't know by now... but as for who I look like, who I have to be...
I wish I could tell you I couldn't sleep a wink in Maine. I wish I could tell you that knowing what was about to happen to me made me restless and anxious but the truth is, unlike last time, I slept like a lamb, even though I shouldn't have. After a day of activities, I would crawl into bed nice and early and just drift off. And I'd wake up in the morning disappointed I was still Max, and happy I was still Max, and wondering if I had it all wrong, if I was delusional and no change was going to happen this time.
It did. It was a stormy night, although it was before Irene hit. There are telltale signs, which night it's going to happen. You do an informal headcount of occupied room. Your skin feels irritated in a way that could be sunburn but isn't. I was asleep and then I felt something pushing against me. It was happening. I sat up and looked at my hands. I made it across the room to turn the lights on, then felt my legs buckle beneath me... I had gone from young to mature, from female to male, and now... I was going back.
Everything rippled through me. I wasn't a huge guy, but all the mass rearranging itself, thinning out, congregating in new places... forming little folds of flesh on my chest that grew slowly into breasts... it was unpleasant, but if I'm being totally honest, the feeling of becoming a man was much worse and left me a lot sorer.
In the darkness, I pulled myself back up onto the bed. I slipped back under the covers and curled up until it finally stopped.
The next day I crawled back out of bed and examined my new self. She's pretty and thin, but I was suddenly crushed by the weight of how wrong this all felt. To be a girl again. To be young again. She's only 17, she's in school, she lives at home... I've seen and done and been so much, I didn't feel like I could be this person.
I combed over her clothes, mostly modest and mostly feminine. I grimaced at the thought of squeezing myself into a bra or a pair of panties again, after a year of boxer shorts, but you take what you're given. There are upsides. At least I'm not unfamiliar with any of it. I just feel so weak and helpless in all the trappings of girliness.
Naked, I felt like a dirty old man looking at a nubile young girl. I felt terror. I felt a burden. I wanted to go home and never do this again, but I'm on this ride and it's never going to stop. But why does it have to be this body?
I have no life because I never had my teenage years, I'm not used to living like this, so on a Friday night I'm holding up in my room finally writing on this blog and putting off studying geometry. Because I don't want to live the life I've inherited.
Her name is Elyssa McClay. Ellie. She's 17 years old and she lives in Connecticut. It wasn't long before I found out this was not her first trip to the Inn.
I couldn't understand why someone would go back after finally getting their body back. I don't know how it happened. But that's not the worst part.
I'm feeling so stupid. I feel like such an awful person.
I made a huge mistake.
I didn't come here alone.
I disappeared from this blog for a long time. I wanted to make blogging my thing, but I felt really good just plugging into my life as Max it would be weeks between times where I'd think "I could blog about this" or update you on my life... It was so great just to feel like a normal guy. I didn't want it to end.
I'm a person who lives by his/her word. I promised Fletcher... Beatrice... I'd give Roger Max's body. It was my fault he was trapped in a little girl's body, and I didn't want that little girl to have to grow up like I did, and I definitely didn't want Roger to think his only future was as Fletcher's daughter. I wanted forgiveness.
I followed through with my promise, though. I went back to Maine. Fletcher brought Roger to Maine after that. By now they should be settled in in New Brunswick, and I'm here, crying my eyes out. Once a girl, always a girl. I used to be tougher, I swear, even when I was Sam.
So you want to know... where is here? Who am I? I mean, maybe none of you will ever know who I really am... maybe even I don't know by now... but as for who I look like, who I have to be...
I wish I could tell you I couldn't sleep a wink in Maine. I wish I could tell you that knowing what was about to happen to me made me restless and anxious but the truth is, unlike last time, I slept like a lamb, even though I shouldn't have. After a day of activities, I would crawl into bed nice and early and just drift off. And I'd wake up in the morning disappointed I was still Max, and happy I was still Max, and wondering if I had it all wrong, if I was delusional and no change was going to happen this time.
It did. It was a stormy night, although it was before Irene hit. There are telltale signs, which night it's going to happen. You do an informal headcount of occupied room. Your skin feels irritated in a way that could be sunburn but isn't. I was asleep and then I felt something pushing against me. It was happening. I sat up and looked at my hands. I made it across the room to turn the lights on, then felt my legs buckle beneath me... I had gone from young to mature, from female to male, and now... I was going back.
Everything rippled through me. I wasn't a huge guy, but all the mass rearranging itself, thinning out, congregating in new places... forming little folds of flesh on my chest that grew slowly into breasts... it was unpleasant, but if I'm being totally honest, the feeling of becoming a man was much worse and left me a lot sorer.
In the darkness, I pulled myself back up onto the bed. I slipped back under the covers and curled up until it finally stopped.
The next day I crawled back out of bed and examined my new self. She's pretty and thin, but I was suddenly crushed by the weight of how wrong this all felt. To be a girl again. To be young again. She's only 17, she's in school, she lives at home... I've seen and done and been so much, I didn't feel like I could be this person.
I combed over her clothes, mostly modest and mostly feminine. I grimaced at the thought of squeezing myself into a bra or a pair of panties again, after a year of boxer shorts, but you take what you're given. There are upsides. At least I'm not unfamiliar with any of it. I just feel so weak and helpless in all the trappings of girliness.
Naked, I felt like a dirty old man looking at a nubile young girl. I felt terror. I felt a burden. I wanted to go home and never do this again, but I'm on this ride and it's never going to stop. But why does it have to be this body?
I have no life because I never had my teenage years, I'm not used to living like this, so on a Friday night I'm holding up in my room finally writing on this blog and putting off studying geometry. Because I don't want to live the life I've inherited.
Her name is Elyssa McClay. Ellie. She's 17 years old and she lives in Connecticut. It wasn't long before I found out this was not her first trip to the Inn.
I couldn't understand why someone would go back after finally getting their body back. I don't know how it happened. But that's not the worst part.
I'm feeling so stupid. I feel like such an awful person.
I made a huge mistake.
I didn't come here alone.
Friday, September 16, 2011
Greg/Alexis: The Wheels Come Off
So the blog's been a bit dead for awhile, and I dont know what everyone else's excuse is but I've been a little bit preoccupied.
About 5 days after my last post the Northeast part of the US was hit by Hurricane Irene. Dont worry , I'm safe. Its not anything like Hurricane Katrina which was a category 5 storm when it hit land. Irene was barely a tropical storm when she got to Vermont, that doesnt mean it wasnt rainy and windy as hell though.
Of Course, being from Chicago I'd never seen a hurricane (Oxford didnt get any last year) and I was freaking the fuck out. I was boarding up windows and putting what I thought were valuables in safe places.
Malinda is from Texas and had seen quite a few hurricanes and wasnt at all worried about Irene. She would look at me watching the weather channel and tell me to calm down. It was a weird contrast to what our lives had been up to that point, with me helping her adjust.
When the storm finally hit Burlington it was still very windy and rainy. The condo doesnt have a basement so I went to an interior room and started playing on Alex's 3DS.
And then, the power went out and I screamed like the girl that I was. A minute later Malinda came in with a candle to check on me. She distracted me by telling me stories of her childhood and other trivial stuff about her. I think my paranoia was getting on her. It was maybe the first time she treated me with something other than disdain or mistrust, not a major breakthrough but one nonetheless.
The storm was bad and there were a lots of crashing and howling as trees and debris flew all over town. I fell asleep on the Laundry room floor and woke up when the power came back on the next morning.
The house was still intact, in fact most of Burlington was fine. Most of Vermont got flooded as hell but we were still above water. It was mostly debris and downed powerlines, except in our front yard.
One of the trees had fallen down, missing the condo and keeping us safe, but landing smack dab in the middle of the Range Rover. Crushed it right down the middle like a hotdog bun. Keep in mind this was a big tree, and it hit it right in the sweet spot.
It didnt entirely flatten the cabin, which makes me wonder if I wouldve been OK if I'd been driving it. Its weird to think about but that shows just how much I'd grown to love that car. I was always a bit of a car nut and when My Mustang got left with my old life I had to drive Priya's BMW, which was pretty good but after a year with Dee's boring car I had an awesome Luxury SUV to enjoy and I was getting used to taking the scenic routes.
The thing was fully covered and we'll eventually get a new one, but that requires a lot of insurance paperwork. Since the tree wasnt on our property, it was on the condo associations's property, the car insurance company needs to talk to their insurance company as well as a ton of forms from me.
Anyone who's ever filled out an insurance claim will tell you what a nightmare it is. Its even harder when youre filling it out for someone else because at first I filled it out incorrectly. Certain details about the car loan and where and how it was bought got screwed up and the claim was denied. This of course meant I had to start over and was not able to get a rental car.
There are a lot of little details that dont get included in a "Trading Post Inn this is my life" letter that you dont need unless youre doing something like this. So the form filling out was contingent on getting the Real Alex enough time from the family she lived with to have a lengthy phone conversation about someone elses vehicle details.
During this ordeal I found myself relying on Annabelle for rides because Burlington's public transport isnt nearly as sophisticated as what I grew up with. She was actually really cool about it, although it did lead to her coming over to the house, being nice to Malinda, and getting the cold shoulder. I apologized for my fake wife and blamed it on artist's block.
Then about a week and a half ago I was bitching to Annabelle about the insurance companies and she asked me why I didnt start riding my bike places again. Apparently Alex is an avid cyclist and hardly ever drove until about a year ago. She's got like a 2000 dollar bicycle as well as a much more fancy and expensive one that she takes out in the woods on trails and stuff.
This solves my transportation dependence but its not without it's problems. For starters I can only do it during the day time. I dont care how athletic I am, ever since I became a girl I'm scared to be out riding my bike at night in an unfamiliar town. Second, it takes FOREVER. Like 3 times as long as with cars. Which means I have to leave earlier for things, get up earlier in the morning, and basically budget my time a lot closer. One of the reason's I havent updated, its hard to blog when youre pedaling.
Compounding those problems is the fact that in the last couple of weeks Burlington's gotten a lot more crowded. Home to the University of Vermont, The Queen City get's about 25% bigger once school starts. Navigating certain parts of town on a bike gets difficult with a bunch of doe eyed little freshmen Catamounts in your way.
Hopefully the car thing gets settled soon so we can get a new one. Malinda wants a Camaro but we're getting one exactly like the old one. Leave the life like you found it and all that. Plus a Camaro is gonna suck when it gets snowy soon. Better than a bike though.
-Greg.
About 5 days after my last post the Northeast part of the US was hit by Hurricane Irene. Dont worry , I'm safe. Its not anything like Hurricane Katrina which was a category 5 storm when it hit land. Irene was barely a tropical storm when she got to Vermont, that doesnt mean it wasnt rainy and windy as hell though.
Of Course, being from Chicago I'd never seen a hurricane (Oxford didnt get any last year) and I was freaking the fuck out. I was boarding up windows and putting what I thought were valuables in safe places.
Malinda is from Texas and had seen quite a few hurricanes and wasnt at all worried about Irene. She would look at me watching the weather channel and tell me to calm down. It was a weird contrast to what our lives had been up to that point, with me helping her adjust.
When the storm finally hit Burlington it was still very windy and rainy. The condo doesnt have a basement so I went to an interior room and started playing on Alex's 3DS.
And then, the power went out and I screamed like the girl that I was. A minute later Malinda came in with a candle to check on me. She distracted me by telling me stories of her childhood and other trivial stuff about her. I think my paranoia was getting on her. It was maybe the first time she treated me with something other than disdain or mistrust, not a major breakthrough but one nonetheless.
The storm was bad and there were a lots of crashing and howling as trees and debris flew all over town. I fell asleep on the Laundry room floor and woke up when the power came back on the next morning.
The house was still intact, in fact most of Burlington was fine. Most of Vermont got flooded as hell but we were still above water. It was mostly debris and downed powerlines, except in our front yard.
One of the trees had fallen down, missing the condo and keeping us safe, but landing smack dab in the middle of the Range Rover. Crushed it right down the middle like a hotdog bun. Keep in mind this was a big tree, and it hit it right in the sweet spot.
It didnt entirely flatten the cabin, which makes me wonder if I wouldve been OK if I'd been driving it. Its weird to think about but that shows just how much I'd grown to love that car. I was always a bit of a car nut and when My Mustang got left with my old life I had to drive Priya's BMW, which was pretty good but after a year with Dee's boring car I had an awesome Luxury SUV to enjoy and I was getting used to taking the scenic routes.
The thing was fully covered and we'll eventually get a new one, but that requires a lot of insurance paperwork. Since the tree wasnt on our property, it was on the condo associations's property, the car insurance company needs to talk to their insurance company as well as a ton of forms from me.
Anyone who's ever filled out an insurance claim will tell you what a nightmare it is. Its even harder when youre filling it out for someone else because at first I filled it out incorrectly. Certain details about the car loan and where and how it was bought got screwed up and the claim was denied. This of course meant I had to start over and was not able to get a rental car.
There are a lot of little details that dont get included in a "Trading Post Inn this is my life" letter that you dont need unless youre doing something like this. So the form filling out was contingent on getting the Real Alex enough time from the family she lived with to have a lengthy phone conversation about someone elses vehicle details.
During this ordeal I found myself relying on Annabelle for rides because Burlington's public transport isnt nearly as sophisticated as what I grew up with. She was actually really cool about it, although it did lead to her coming over to the house, being nice to Malinda, and getting the cold shoulder. I apologized for my fake wife and blamed it on artist's block.
Then about a week and a half ago I was bitching to Annabelle about the insurance companies and she asked me why I didnt start riding my bike places again. Apparently Alex is an avid cyclist and hardly ever drove until about a year ago. She's got like a 2000 dollar bicycle as well as a much more fancy and expensive one that she takes out in the woods on trails and stuff.
This solves my transportation dependence but its not without it's problems. For starters I can only do it during the day time. I dont care how athletic I am, ever since I became a girl I'm scared to be out riding my bike at night in an unfamiliar town. Second, it takes FOREVER. Like 3 times as long as with cars. Which means I have to leave earlier for things, get up earlier in the morning, and basically budget my time a lot closer. One of the reason's I havent updated, its hard to blog when youre pedaling.
Compounding those problems is the fact that in the last couple of weeks Burlington's gotten a lot more crowded. Home to the University of Vermont, The Queen City get's about 25% bigger once school starts. Navigating certain parts of town on a bike gets difficult with a bunch of doe eyed little freshmen Catamounts in your way.
Hopefully the car thing gets settled soon so we can get a new one. Malinda wants a Camaro but we're getting one exactly like the old one. Leave the life like you found it and all that. Plus a Camaro is gonna suck when it gets snowy soon. Better than a bike though.
-Greg.
Friday, September 02, 2011
Zane (Clara): Food for thought
Aside from being a model, Clara left me a job working at a snack bar on the pier. Since that doesn't involve posing for photos or looking like a girl (more than I already do) I've chosen to spend pretty much all my time here doing that. The hours aren't much and the pay is crap, but I think annoying flirty customers are still better than what I imagine modeling is like. Standing around looking pretty isn't really my thing.
Meanwhile, when I'm not working (which is usually) I'm cooped up in my room sitting on this laptop lurking my old self on Facebook. Whoever he is he hasn't got back to me yet which is weird and annoying and a little scary.
I try to avoid my housemates. I don't know any of them, I don't have anything to say to them, and I'm embarrassed enough walking around like this. I don't want too many people seeing me and thinking I'm Clara, that I like looking this way, that it's who I am. I hole up in my room and I try to eat, but I don't know anything about vegan diets, so I end up eating, like, crackers and fruit and salads. I'm really nervous that eating anything else will make me sick (not that this diet is making me feel like a million bucks.) I'm starting to feel claustrophobic anytime I'm in this room. I'm locked up in here with myself. Or really, with this girl I look like. I sleep a lot. I'm going crazy.
Then one weekend I hear a knock on the door and in barges this woman. It took me a minute before I remember it's Anthony, in Charlotte's body. She asks what the hell exactly was going on with me, ignoring phone calls and e-mails. I've been pretty much off communication with anyone. I forgot this blog even existed. Otherwise I mightve said something.
She basically drags me out of the house and says we're going for a drive. She asks how I am and I mutter "fine" and try to get off the topic. Anth's not really interested in "fine" though because he goes deeper. "I know you're not taking this well. I need you to know where I'm at." Okay, I said, lay it on me.
"I got my dick taken away, same as you," she says. "I wake up in the morning sore as fuck because I'm lugging around a set of tits twice the size of yours and sitting on my ass at an office doing bitch work because guess what... my job? It's to take care of you. Charlotte is a glorified executive assistant. Her one client as an agent was Clara Green, who suddenly decided she wasn't interested in following up on any of the offers she's gotten."
"Offers?"
"Yeah, one or two trickle in here and there. They let Charlotte have a chance to handle Clara as a test case, to transition from assistant to full agent. Guess what. It's not going well."
"I'm sorry to hear that, but it's not my problem."
"No, it's not," she admits, "You didn't ask to be Clara, and I didn't ask to be Charlotte. But we're sort of past that right now. There's someone out there, I don't even know who, doing my job, and I don't want him to fuck it up. Have you read this blog? There's half a chance we can go back, and if it works out, I don't want to leave CeeCee in the lurch any more than my real life would."
"So what?" I say, "I doubt the new me could do a worse job than I did, being me."
"That's kind of my point, Zane," she says. "No offense Zane, but there's a good chance that whoever's out there living your life is doing a better job than you. What if they get confident and lock you out? That happens too. You can't fall back into your old habits. Remember when you got fired from driving a delivery truck because you were always getting high on the job? For fuck's sake, dude, don't waste two lives."
I sit there, steaming. I know I have it coming, but I was not up to facing this yes. Maybe ever. I want to say I was happy scraping by living the bare minimum as Clara, but I wasn't. My first paycheck as her was about a hundred and fifty bucks. Suddenly I see the appeal of being paid to look pretty.
We wound up at a coffee place and the mood lightened a bit. "Promise me you'll think about it," she reasoned. "I know you have a hard time accepting charity, so just consider this an opportunity to help yourself and help others."
We get off the topic of my fucked-up life and start comparing notes on girliness. I look like a slop, in a t-shirt and shorts and flip flops. Anthony has taken the time to learn how to dress as a woman, has his hair looking nice, walks really confidently in heels. I have a hard time looking her in the eyes and seeing my old buddy.
"It's amazing what you learn to do when you have to actually leave the house every day," she says with a grin. "You find yourself in the water, you learn to swim quickly."
It wasn't until she dropped me back off at home that I sat down and realized how fucked up our situation really is. He was really in love with his girlfriend, had a great job, stands to lose a lot if the "new" him either fucks u, or decides to steal it all away from him.
I started drafting an e-mail to Clara, asking what exactly I had to do to "be a model."
Meanwhile, when I'm not working (which is usually) I'm cooped up in my room sitting on this laptop lurking my old self on Facebook. Whoever he is he hasn't got back to me yet which is weird and annoying and a little scary.
I try to avoid my housemates. I don't know any of them, I don't have anything to say to them, and I'm embarrassed enough walking around like this. I don't want too many people seeing me and thinking I'm Clara, that I like looking this way, that it's who I am. I hole up in my room and I try to eat, but I don't know anything about vegan diets, so I end up eating, like, crackers and fruit and salads. I'm really nervous that eating anything else will make me sick (not that this diet is making me feel like a million bucks.) I'm starting to feel claustrophobic anytime I'm in this room. I'm locked up in here with myself. Or really, with this girl I look like. I sleep a lot. I'm going crazy.
Then one weekend I hear a knock on the door and in barges this woman. It took me a minute before I remember it's Anthony, in Charlotte's body. She asks what the hell exactly was going on with me, ignoring phone calls and e-mails. I've been pretty much off communication with anyone. I forgot this blog even existed. Otherwise I mightve said something.
She basically drags me out of the house and says we're going for a drive. She asks how I am and I mutter "fine" and try to get off the topic. Anth's not really interested in "fine" though because he goes deeper. "I know you're not taking this well. I need you to know where I'm at." Okay, I said, lay it on me.
"I got my dick taken away, same as you," she says. "I wake up in the morning sore as fuck because I'm lugging around a set of tits twice the size of yours and sitting on my ass at an office doing bitch work because guess what... my job? It's to take care of you. Charlotte is a glorified executive assistant. Her one client as an agent was Clara Green, who suddenly decided she wasn't interested in following up on any of the offers she's gotten."
"Offers?"
"Yeah, one or two trickle in here and there. They let Charlotte have a chance to handle Clara as a test case, to transition from assistant to full agent. Guess what. It's not going well."
"I'm sorry to hear that, but it's not my problem."
"No, it's not," she admits, "You didn't ask to be Clara, and I didn't ask to be Charlotte. But we're sort of past that right now. There's someone out there, I don't even know who, doing my job, and I don't want him to fuck it up. Have you read this blog? There's half a chance we can go back, and if it works out, I don't want to leave CeeCee in the lurch any more than my real life would."
"So what?" I say, "I doubt the new me could do a worse job than I did, being me."
"That's kind of my point, Zane," she says. "No offense Zane, but there's a good chance that whoever's out there living your life is doing a better job than you. What if they get confident and lock you out? That happens too. You can't fall back into your old habits. Remember when you got fired from driving a delivery truck because you were always getting high on the job? For fuck's sake, dude, don't waste two lives."
I sit there, steaming. I know I have it coming, but I was not up to facing this yes. Maybe ever. I want to say I was happy scraping by living the bare minimum as Clara, but I wasn't. My first paycheck as her was about a hundred and fifty bucks. Suddenly I see the appeal of being paid to look pretty.
We wound up at a coffee place and the mood lightened a bit. "Promise me you'll think about it," she reasoned. "I know you have a hard time accepting charity, so just consider this an opportunity to help yourself and help others."
We get off the topic of my fucked-up life and start comparing notes on girliness. I look like a slop, in a t-shirt and shorts and flip flops. Anthony has taken the time to learn how to dress as a woman, has his hair looking nice, walks really confidently in heels. I have a hard time looking her in the eyes and seeing my old buddy.
"It's amazing what you learn to do when you have to actually leave the house every day," she says with a grin. "You find yourself in the water, you learn to swim quickly."
It wasn't until she dropped me back off at home that I sat down and realized how fucked up our situation really is. He was really in love with his girlfriend, had a great job, stands to lose a lot if the "new" him either fucks u, or decides to steal it all away from him.
I started drafting an e-mail to Clara, asking what exactly I had to do to "be a model."
Sunday, August 28, 2011
Shaun/Doug - First fight
I don't know what to think. A month ago, I was in Massachusetts, recently dumped -- left at the altar -- and now I'm in California playing house.
Doug lives with his wife Nia in a decent house in the Valley. I really like the California weather. It'll be interesting to see what a winter's like without snow. There are plenty of upsides to this life. I thought the store Doug manages was a hardware store, but it's more of a general supermarket/pharmacy/everything store, kind of a local Wal-Mart knockoff we don't have out east. Doug outlined his basic duties and adapting hasn't been all that hard. The day-to-day stuff isn't that bad. Mostly people know their jobs and I can walk around figuring out where everything goes and who does what. Luckily, the staff all wears nametags to keep track of that sort of thing.
That's not what worries me about being Doug. He left his life in decent shape and I'll be happy keeping it as stable as I can until we can change back. There are just bigger issues to deal with.
That would be the wife. As I mentioned in my previous posts, I literally just got out of a long term relationship with the woman I thought I was going to marry. I'm not really "up" for being someone's husband.
Don't get me wrong, I'd be good at it. I've cohabitated for years. I loved not only my ex, but the whole feeling of having someone at home, someone around to talk to, to share interests, to be with. But that's only when you're ready for it. When you know and trust the person. This lady... I don't know. Although I can't say I blame her for acting standoffish toward me.
She's a nurse. Whereas I'm keeping business hours, she's out all the time. The first week, I hardly saw her. But she didn't make a great first impression.
I don't blame her for it. Her husband disappeared to the other side of the country for what, three weeks, a month, with no word why, and I wasn't exactly armed with the greatest excuses. Anthony cooked us up a cover story that Zane -- my "sister" Clara -- had gotten sick, but that just irritated Nia.
The thing is, she's totally right. Relationships need trust, and it looks like Doug broke that even though he didn't mean to. I just have to bear the brunt of her wrath, and that sucks, because I'm really not in the mood to take the heat for something so far beyond my control or even understanding. I can't tell her I'm not her husband, I can't explain why "I" was so late in coming home. All I can do is promise it won't happen again, even though I can't promise anything of the sort.
I sat there, listening sullenly as she ranted and raved at me -- having just gotten off a long shift, understandably overflowing with rage -- then she stopped and said "Well, are you going to say anything for yourself? Make some smartass comment?"
I just held my tongue and said "No. You're completely right."
This led her to chewing me out for not holding my ground. I tell you, I'll never understand women. When I didn't fight back even then, she stopped. "I guess you must mean it, if you're not going to try to defend yourself."
I didn't say anything more except, "Do you want me to sleep on the couch?"
She twisted her mouth. "After the past few weeks? I'm not spending another night in bed alone. Come on."
She led me up to bed. I was worried she was going to want me to be intimate, which I'm really not in the mood for. I don't know what Doug would think, but I don't know if it's my place to avoid it forever either.
Instead, all we did was crawl into bed in our pajamas, which is definitely something I could handle. After all the craziness of my life the past few weeks, I was glad to be in bed with another human. To feel her body close to me, to hear her breath as she sleeps. It was like sharing a bed platonically with Lisa back in Maine.
I barely slept that night. By the time I did wake up, she was already gone.
Between you and me, she's pretty easy on the eyes. She keeps in shape and has a beautiful dark complexion that I later learned was from being mixed African-American and Caucasian. If I saw her in public I'd definitely give a second look.
I feel a little sleazy for saying that, though. That's another man's wife.
Doug lives with his wife Nia in a decent house in the Valley. I really like the California weather. It'll be interesting to see what a winter's like without snow. There are plenty of upsides to this life. I thought the store Doug manages was a hardware store, but it's more of a general supermarket/pharmacy/everything store, kind of a local Wal-Mart knockoff we don't have out east. Doug outlined his basic duties and adapting hasn't been all that hard. The day-to-day stuff isn't that bad. Mostly people know their jobs and I can walk around figuring out where everything goes and who does what. Luckily, the staff all wears nametags to keep track of that sort of thing.
That's not what worries me about being Doug. He left his life in decent shape and I'll be happy keeping it as stable as I can until we can change back. There are just bigger issues to deal with.
That would be the wife. As I mentioned in my previous posts, I literally just got out of a long term relationship with the woman I thought I was going to marry. I'm not really "up" for being someone's husband.
Don't get me wrong, I'd be good at it. I've cohabitated for years. I loved not only my ex, but the whole feeling of having someone at home, someone around to talk to, to share interests, to be with. But that's only when you're ready for it. When you know and trust the person. This lady... I don't know. Although I can't say I blame her for acting standoffish toward me.
She's a nurse. Whereas I'm keeping business hours, she's out all the time. The first week, I hardly saw her. But she didn't make a great first impression.
I don't blame her for it. Her husband disappeared to the other side of the country for what, three weeks, a month, with no word why, and I wasn't exactly armed with the greatest excuses. Anthony cooked us up a cover story that Zane -- my "sister" Clara -- had gotten sick, but that just irritated Nia.
The thing is, she's totally right. Relationships need trust, and it looks like Doug broke that even though he didn't mean to. I just have to bear the brunt of her wrath, and that sucks, because I'm really not in the mood to take the heat for something so far beyond my control or even understanding. I can't tell her I'm not her husband, I can't explain why "I" was so late in coming home. All I can do is promise it won't happen again, even though I can't promise anything of the sort.
I sat there, listening sullenly as she ranted and raved at me -- having just gotten off a long shift, understandably overflowing with rage -- then she stopped and said "Well, are you going to say anything for yourself? Make some smartass comment?"
I just held my tongue and said "No. You're completely right."
This led her to chewing me out for not holding my ground. I tell you, I'll never understand women. When I didn't fight back even then, she stopped. "I guess you must mean it, if you're not going to try to defend yourself."
I didn't say anything more except, "Do you want me to sleep on the couch?"
She twisted her mouth. "After the past few weeks? I'm not spending another night in bed alone. Come on."
She led me up to bed. I was worried she was going to want me to be intimate, which I'm really not in the mood for. I don't know what Doug would think, but I don't know if it's my place to avoid it forever either.
Instead, all we did was crawl into bed in our pajamas, which is definitely something I could handle. After all the craziness of my life the past few weeks, I was glad to be in bed with another human. To feel her body close to me, to hear her breath as she sleeps. It was like sharing a bed platonically with Lisa back in Maine.
I barely slept that night. By the time I did wake up, she was already gone.
Between you and me, she's pretty easy on the eyes. She keeps in shape and has a beautiful dark complexion that I later learned was from being mixed African-American and Caucasian. If I saw her in public I'd definitely give a second look.
I feel a little sleazy for saying that, though. That's another man's wife.
Tuesday, August 23, 2011
Greg/Alexis: Finding Things
When you become someone else via the Trading Post Inn, you dont just get their body. Theres an expectation that you get their life too. That you get plopped into the same situation that they were in and have to start making your own way of it. This includes usually a new location, a new job, and new friends. It also means you get to use all of their stuff. I dont just have Alex Barco's eyes, hair, and tits, Ive also got her house, awesome computer, and SUV.
This leads to a sense of novelty that takes a bit of time to wear out. Where you live becomes a really furnished hotel, with a whole life's worth of stuff. This can make finding something you need a difficult task. Like when I went to go play tennis with Annabelle over the weekend and couldnt find the racket. I didnt want to call the real Alexis over something so silly because its embarrassing. Also she has a husband and kids now that she doesnt want to get suspicious of the tons of phone calls from her never before mentioned friend in Vermont, so I try not to call her unless its late at night.
The need to find a tennis racket caused me to do some serious rooting around my new place. I looked in the closets, basement, crawl space and garage. Found all sorts of old clothes and stuff, A few diaries that the girls kept from a long time ago A bunch of awesome retro videogame systems, and in a small box in the back of the bedroom closet was a box full of *ahem* "toys". All the rummaging attracted the curiosities of Malinda.
"What are you looking for?"
"A tennis racket, and probably some balls and stuff"
"Why?"
"To play tennis, duh"
"With who?"
"A friend"
"One of her friends"
"Yeah, I ran into her in the supermarket"
"And now youre playing tennis with her?"
"Yeah, I dont plan on staying inside all year like SOME people"
She stuck her tongue out at me but there was a hint of sadness in her face. I think the whole isolation thing is starting to wear on her. After I left her I finally found the tennis stuff in the garage crawl space. There were two bags, I figured correctly that the pink one belonged to Sharon and took the black one.
Sharon actually owns functional exercise wear, unlike any woman I'd ever been. I actually managed to go out exercising without showing off every curve I had. Bike shorts, sports bra, gym shorts and tank top and I was all set to play tennis at the health club with my new friend Annabelle.
I beat Annabelle there so I decided to do some stretching. I was even more flexible than I was as Priya, and that's from doing yoga for years. I've got a nice muscle tone to me, even after almost 2 months of not exercising regularly. I think that stems from natural metabolism and not eating like a pig. When Annabelle finally showed up I was warmed up I felt like I was about to test drive a new sports car.
I neglected to remember however that I knew very little about tennis technique. I was limited to mostly pickup games with friends but apparently Annabelle was hardcore about it and Alexis was on her level. I found myself to physically have no problem chasing down and getting to balls but when it came time to hit it my accuracy was terrible and I hit most of her serves out of bounds. To keep with the sports car analogy, it was like being handed the keys to a Lambourghini and not knowing how to drive a stick.
After getting destroyed 6-0, 6-0 Annabelle gave me some good natured bragging and asked if anything was wrong.
"Nothing, I think vacation threw my timing off" I said, vowing to myself to practice harder.
Then came the interesting part of the day. The locker room. A couple years ago I described going to a girls locker room when I was Priya as anticlimactic. Yes I could see everything but my body wasnt wired to appreciate it. Now here I was with the proper wiring and It was like a switch was flipped. Suddenly I remembered every thing I loved about the female body and was in aesthetic heaven. I just had to figure out how not to come off as the creepy lesbian leering at all the straight girls and making them nervous.
Showering was easy enough. There are little dividers between the showerheads and I was able to stare straight ahead and get myself washed up, but the changing room was a different story.
Annabelle was going off about something but I wasnt paying much attention. I was alternating between getting dressed and sneaking peeks at the people changing around me. Nobody noticed but i still felt a little guilty. Finally I decided to look at Annabelle when she was talking to me, but when I did she was standing there completely naked, as if it were the most natural thing. I tried to maintain eye contact but I did let my eyes wander to her chest and hips. She noticed this but didnt say anything. She smiled a bit and turned around, almost as if to say "check out the view from this angle". I dont know if thats what she meant, probably not. She's Sharon's friend too. I think my mind was just in the gutter. That whole hour or so was like the beginning of a porno movie.
When I got back Malinda was watching TV so I filled up the bathtub and proceeded to act out the middle of some porno movies. It was my first time as Alexis but I seemed to figure it out pretty quickly. After my bath I was so worn out from the tennis and the diddling I took the best nap ever.
So yeah. Thats what I did this weekend.
-Greg
This leads to a sense of novelty that takes a bit of time to wear out. Where you live becomes a really furnished hotel, with a whole life's worth of stuff. This can make finding something you need a difficult task. Like when I went to go play tennis with Annabelle over the weekend and couldnt find the racket. I didnt want to call the real Alexis over something so silly because its embarrassing. Also she has a husband and kids now that she doesnt want to get suspicious of the tons of phone calls from her never before mentioned friend in Vermont, so I try not to call her unless its late at night.
The need to find a tennis racket caused me to do some serious rooting around my new place. I looked in the closets, basement, crawl space and garage. Found all sorts of old clothes and stuff, A few diaries that the girls kept from a long time ago A bunch of awesome retro videogame systems, and in a small box in the back of the bedroom closet was a box full of *ahem* "toys". All the rummaging attracted the curiosities of Malinda.
"What are you looking for?"
"A tennis racket, and probably some balls and stuff"
"Why?"
"To play tennis, duh"
"With who?"
"A friend"
"One of her friends"
"Yeah, I ran into her in the supermarket"
"And now youre playing tennis with her?"
"Yeah, I dont plan on staying inside all year like SOME people"
She stuck her tongue out at me but there was a hint of sadness in her face. I think the whole isolation thing is starting to wear on her. After I left her I finally found the tennis stuff in the garage crawl space. There were two bags, I figured correctly that the pink one belonged to Sharon and took the black one.
Sharon actually owns functional exercise wear, unlike any woman I'd ever been. I actually managed to go out exercising without showing off every curve I had. Bike shorts, sports bra, gym shorts and tank top and I was all set to play tennis at the health club with my new friend Annabelle.
I beat Annabelle there so I decided to do some stretching. I was even more flexible than I was as Priya, and that's from doing yoga for years. I've got a nice muscle tone to me, even after almost 2 months of not exercising regularly. I think that stems from natural metabolism and not eating like a pig. When Annabelle finally showed up I was warmed up I felt like I was about to test drive a new sports car.
I neglected to remember however that I knew very little about tennis technique. I was limited to mostly pickup games with friends but apparently Annabelle was hardcore about it and Alexis was on her level. I found myself to physically have no problem chasing down and getting to balls but when it came time to hit it my accuracy was terrible and I hit most of her serves out of bounds. To keep with the sports car analogy, it was like being handed the keys to a Lambourghini and not knowing how to drive a stick.
After getting destroyed 6-0, 6-0 Annabelle gave me some good natured bragging and asked if anything was wrong.
"Nothing, I think vacation threw my timing off" I said, vowing to myself to practice harder.
Then came the interesting part of the day. The locker room. A couple years ago I described going to a girls locker room when I was Priya as anticlimactic. Yes I could see everything but my body wasnt wired to appreciate it. Now here I was with the proper wiring and It was like a switch was flipped. Suddenly I remembered every thing I loved about the female body and was in aesthetic heaven. I just had to figure out how not to come off as the creepy lesbian leering at all the straight girls and making them nervous.
Showering was easy enough. There are little dividers between the showerheads and I was able to stare straight ahead and get myself washed up, but the changing room was a different story.
Annabelle was going off about something but I wasnt paying much attention. I was alternating between getting dressed and sneaking peeks at the people changing around me. Nobody noticed but i still felt a little guilty. Finally I decided to look at Annabelle when she was talking to me, but when I did she was standing there completely naked, as if it were the most natural thing. I tried to maintain eye contact but I did let my eyes wander to her chest and hips. She noticed this but didnt say anything. She smiled a bit and turned around, almost as if to say "check out the view from this angle". I dont know if thats what she meant, probably not. She's Sharon's friend too. I think my mind was just in the gutter. That whole hour or so was like the beginning of a porno movie.
When I got back Malinda was watching TV so I filled up the bathtub and proceeded to act out the middle of some porno movies. It was my first time as Alexis but I seemed to figure it out pretty quickly. After my bath I was so worn out from the tennis and the diddling I took the best nap ever.
So yeah. Thats what I did this weekend.
-Greg
Monday, August 22, 2011
Zane (Clara): Going to California
The transformation made me sick. I barely even remember getting my wits together to write that last post. I was on bedrest, throwing up, being tended to by my friends. I didn't understand what had happened to me, exhausted and dizzy.
Anthony later said he thought it was because of the shock of going from being Zane to being "Clara." I had been drinking heavily, and Clara's body is small and used to a vegan diet, and maybe the stuff I had put into my own body needed to be filtered out by whatever magical process transformed us. I don't know, it sounds as good of a theory as anything.
Anthony's a good guy, and when I could face him I told him flat out I didn't want to be "Clara." He reminded me I didn't have much of a choice. If he knew how to go back to his own body right away, he would. But we're stuck in these ones for now. I asked him what he was going to do, and he said "I'm going to be the best girl I can, because that's all I can do." I'm jealous of his confidence. I don't feel like I can pull this off, and I really don't want to have to.
Shaun and Lisa have it easy, they're still the same type of person they started out as. Shaun's taller than he used to be, a young, mid-20's decent-looking guy who looks like he has his life together: "Doug," my "brother." Lisa is a pretty young girl, like 18 or so, with long dark hair and a pretty nice body and Greek-looking features. "Eve."
Anthony ended up as "Eve's" sister, "Charlotte." She's about ten years older. The two of them are short, but Charlotte is curvier. I wouldn't say "fat" but she's got a huge bum, hips and big round boobs. I wonder what it would be like to be a girl like that, instead of a twig like Clara. She's pretty, too, I really like her face. Anthony has to wear glasses as her, though.
It's just so strange looking at these strangers and trying to see the people I know inside them. Lisa and Shaun have been quiet, but Anthony as always is a flurry of activity, arranging all of our ways home, keeping our shit together, reminding us who we are supposed to be. Then the fateful day came: "Okay, guys. We're flying to California."
I had put the finishing touches on my "My Life" letter, wondering if I'd ever be myself again... Anthony's read this blog and says it's possible, so I shouldn't give up hope. I didn't have a lot to say about myself, so I'm worried someone will just walk into my life and make it better and not want to leave. At the same time I can't just tell them "Keep collecting unemployment checks and applying for crappy jobs I didn't really want." Sorry, for a second there I felt like a loser.
I was a wreck for the flight out to California. Then I saw where I'll be living. It's like one of those reality TV houses, a big one not far from the beach, which Clara shares with 5 others. Anthony drove me home in Charlotte's car and led me up to my new room... clever guy, he asked one of Clara's housemates, "Hey, she's really a mess which room is hers?" so I wouldn't look totally clueless.
Before I knew it, a day had passed. I woke up the next morning and it still felt like someone was playing a joke on me... that I was only imagining I had this body, that I'm still a guy, I just can't feel my dick for some reason. I slipped my hand into my underpants, and... nothing but smooth flesh and a pair of soft lips.
Suddenly, I sat upright. Everything was real. This whole thing was happening whether I liked it or not. And I wish that meant this revelation meant I suddenly felt capable of living as Clara, but all it really meant was that I was finally capable of facing her in the mirror. I hadn't showered or cleaned myself in anyway since I was a guy and I felt rotten.
I peeked my head out the door and timidly tried every door until I found the washroom. I locked myself inside. I was in a white tee shirt and shorts. I've been nude in this body, but I hadn't really noticed it. I began to pace, hesitating at what I was about to do.
I stripped off the top and looked down. There they were, pointing outwards, a couple of firm, perky breasts blocking my view. I felt up under them with the palms of my hands, ran my fingers over their nipples. A shiver went up inside me. It's like... the most sensitive touch I've ever felt. Nothing in my old body would have sensed a feeling like that.
My eyes turned upward and faced the mirror, to the girl standing across from me cupping her breasts. I stepped closer and leaned over the sink to get a better look, feeling the flesh of my breasts hang low off me. I opened and closed my mouth, to remind myself I was in control of the girl in the mirror... mouthing, "Wow..." not at my looks, but just at... at the feeling of looking at someone else's body through their own eyes. Of being someone else. Of being in control of this.
I moved my one hand up to brush my hair behind my ear. I'm tanned, fairly evenly, with a few freckles, with sun-streaked sandy blonde hair over my ears. My eyes are deep blue, with a petite little nose beneath them, and rounded little lips. It was my biggest fear... Clara really is hot.
My mind flew back to the letter she left with her luggage, the novella she wrote about her life... she's a model, only part time but hoping to make it big. She's a goddamned model and even if she's not, like, 7 feet tall and stacked, she's still prettier than the average girl and seems to make a living being hot.
I turned the shower on full blast of cold, whipped my shorts down and climbed in, letting the water wash over my back. I just wanted to get numb again.
I got good and wet, ran my fingers through my hair, then shut the water off. I grabbed a towel and wrapped it under my arms, bundling my tits up and tiptoeing back to my room to hide from the world.
More later.
-Zane
Anthony later said he thought it was because of the shock of going from being Zane to being "Clara." I had been drinking heavily, and Clara's body is small and used to a vegan diet, and maybe the stuff I had put into my own body needed to be filtered out by whatever magical process transformed us. I don't know, it sounds as good of a theory as anything.
Anthony's a good guy, and when I could face him I told him flat out I didn't want to be "Clara." He reminded me I didn't have much of a choice. If he knew how to go back to his own body right away, he would. But we're stuck in these ones for now. I asked him what he was going to do, and he said "I'm going to be the best girl I can, because that's all I can do." I'm jealous of his confidence. I don't feel like I can pull this off, and I really don't want to have to.
Shaun and Lisa have it easy, they're still the same type of person they started out as. Shaun's taller than he used to be, a young, mid-20's decent-looking guy who looks like he has his life together: "Doug," my "brother." Lisa is a pretty young girl, like 18 or so, with long dark hair and a pretty nice body and Greek-looking features. "Eve."
Anthony ended up as "Eve's" sister, "Charlotte." She's about ten years older. The two of them are short, but Charlotte is curvier. I wouldn't say "fat" but she's got a huge bum, hips and big round boobs. I wonder what it would be like to be a girl like that, instead of a twig like Clara. She's pretty, too, I really like her face. Anthony has to wear glasses as her, though.
It's just so strange looking at these strangers and trying to see the people I know inside them. Lisa and Shaun have been quiet, but Anthony as always is a flurry of activity, arranging all of our ways home, keeping our shit together, reminding us who we are supposed to be. Then the fateful day came: "Okay, guys. We're flying to California."
I had put the finishing touches on my "My Life" letter, wondering if I'd ever be myself again... Anthony's read this blog and says it's possible, so I shouldn't give up hope. I didn't have a lot to say about myself, so I'm worried someone will just walk into my life and make it better and not want to leave. At the same time I can't just tell them "Keep collecting unemployment checks and applying for crappy jobs I didn't really want." Sorry, for a second there I felt like a loser.
I was a wreck for the flight out to California. Then I saw where I'll be living. It's like one of those reality TV houses, a big one not far from the beach, which Clara shares with 5 others. Anthony drove me home in Charlotte's car and led me up to my new room... clever guy, he asked one of Clara's housemates, "Hey, she's really a mess which room is hers?" so I wouldn't look totally clueless.
Before I knew it, a day had passed. I woke up the next morning and it still felt like someone was playing a joke on me... that I was only imagining I had this body, that I'm still a guy, I just can't feel my dick for some reason. I slipped my hand into my underpants, and... nothing but smooth flesh and a pair of soft lips.
Suddenly, I sat upright. Everything was real. This whole thing was happening whether I liked it or not. And I wish that meant this revelation meant I suddenly felt capable of living as Clara, but all it really meant was that I was finally capable of facing her in the mirror. I hadn't showered or cleaned myself in anyway since I was a guy and I felt rotten.
I peeked my head out the door and timidly tried every door until I found the washroom. I locked myself inside. I was in a white tee shirt and shorts. I've been nude in this body, but I hadn't really noticed it. I began to pace, hesitating at what I was about to do.
I stripped off the top and looked down. There they were, pointing outwards, a couple of firm, perky breasts blocking my view. I felt up under them with the palms of my hands, ran my fingers over their nipples. A shiver went up inside me. It's like... the most sensitive touch I've ever felt. Nothing in my old body would have sensed a feeling like that.
My eyes turned upward and faced the mirror, to the girl standing across from me cupping her breasts. I stepped closer and leaned over the sink to get a better look, feeling the flesh of my breasts hang low off me. I opened and closed my mouth, to remind myself I was in control of the girl in the mirror... mouthing, "Wow..." not at my looks, but just at... at the feeling of looking at someone else's body through their own eyes. Of being someone else. Of being in control of this.
I moved my one hand up to brush my hair behind my ear. I'm tanned, fairly evenly, with a few freckles, with sun-streaked sandy blonde hair over my ears. My eyes are deep blue, with a petite little nose beneath them, and rounded little lips. It was my biggest fear... Clara really is hot.
My mind flew back to the letter she left with her luggage, the novella she wrote about her life... she's a model, only part time but hoping to make it big. She's a goddamned model and even if she's not, like, 7 feet tall and stacked, she's still prettier than the average girl and seems to make a living being hot.
I turned the shower on full blast of cold, whipped my shorts down and climbed in, letting the water wash over my back. I just wanted to get numb again.
I got good and wet, ran my fingers through my hair, then shut the water off. I grabbed a towel and wrapped it under my arms, bundling my tits up and tiptoeing back to my room to hide from the world.
More later.
-Zane
Wednesday, August 17, 2011
Tori: Dive in
It feels a little insensitive to be posting about my relationship while there are people now posting on the blog who are -- essentially -- me, two years ago.
But I'm not that person anymore, and I can't promise any of you will be in two years, and I certainly can't promise any of you will be where I am in two years. Truthfully, I hope you all get your bodies back, and that if you can't, well, you would be very lucky to enjoy your lives as much as I do mine.
What I'm saying is, if you're new to this... maybe skip this entry. I'm supportive, but I do live my own life.
And that life has taken me into the awkward early phases of my nice new relationship.
We fumbled a bit on the follow-up. I'm used to being the girl now so I just expected he would call me, and I kept having to remind myself "Okay, he's just waiting a few days," like all guys do. But I was hoping he would skip over that because we're friends already, we're close, we should be past that.
I mean hell, right? This isn't some blind date, this isn't meeting and flirting and playing a game of who can seem cooler and make the other one want you. Right? We should both know the deal. We're us. We should be solid. But somehow, we can't get around the communication difficulties.
So Raine, still house sitting for her parents, hosted the annual pool party. I invited Mae along, but she pointed out that Raine's younger brother was her ex, and that might not be a great scene. Fair enough. I let her have the apartment for the day. In the end it was a smart idea, because Ed was there with a girl and I didn't want to see Mae's reaction to that.
I had asked Alex along too of course, and he gave me a strange wishy-washy answer. It's always hard to get him to come out to events involving Raine, Danny and others. I don't know why. I try to incorporate him into the whole group of friends, but he's resisting. So just as I'm ready to get mad at him, he says he promises to show up, later.
This was an irritating compromise, but I went with it, muttering angrily to myself. It feels like there's still a lot I don't know about his life or what he's doing when I'm not around. I try to push that out of my mind, not to be a clingy girlfriend or anything but I have a right to know, don't I?
So I got there around 1 in the afternoon and spent much of the day snacking and lying poolside in my bikini, wishing I had a man to lavish attention on me while I fine tune my tanlines and people horse around in the pool, including much of our social circle, Sara and Thom, and a few people I should know better by now but haven't made an effort, people left over from the original Tori's life.
We drank, we ate, I avoided going in the pool because I wasn't having much fun and just wanted to relax. Eventually I got pretty drunk and fell asleep. By the time I woke up, it was sundown, everyone had moved inside to dry off and eat more.
Alone in the backyard, I decided to dip my toe in the pool. It was nice. I walked over to the diving board and leaped in feet first. Very refreshing.
I pulled myself out and did a few more dives. It was in the course of this that my bikini top came... untied. Maybe my dives were just too intense.
I decided, hell, I'm alone out here, why not? I fished my top out and slung it onto the pool side and began doing topless laps.
Just then, I heard the gate open, and who should appear but the man himself, Alex.
I immediately pushed myself up against the edge of the pool to coyly guard my bare chest. "Well look who finally decided to show up?"
"Just like I said I would," he said with a smirk.
"Why not dive in? Water's nice."
"Oh I don't know..." he said, "I just ate a few hours ago, and they say you're supposed to wait 12 hours after eating to prevent cramps."
I laughed, "I think you got that turned around."
"Maybe. Why are you alone?"
"I keep asking myself the same question, especially when I'm supposed to have a boyfriend."
"Ooh, good one."
"If you see him, let him know I'm waiting."
"Maybe he just doesn't like swimming."
"Does he likes these?" I asked and backed away from the wall to give him a peek.
"He does..."
"Then maybe he should come in and get a better look."
"Or maybe he could wait for her to come out..." and with that, he picked my bikini top up by the strings and flung it further away from the pool.
I screamed out, "You jerk! Now I'm never coming out."
"Well then you're gonna get all pruney."
Slowly, I pulled myself up onto the ledge and let him get a good look at me. "Happy now?"
"Much happier..."
"I can tell," I said, looking down at the bulge in his shorts.
I was shivering, so I pressed myself against him. As he went to kiss me, I held my hands against his chest...
And pushed him right into the pool. Shoes, jeans and all.
He stayed under for a moment, then when he finally surfaced, started splashing, crying out, "I can't swim, I can't swim!"
A moment of panic seized me and I jumped back in the pool. "Don't struggle!" I said, pulling him back over to the shallow end. "You can stand now. Is that better? Oh, God I'm so sorry."
"Yeah, yeah," he gasped. "I mean, don't worry... I was a lifeguard." He said with an evil grin.
"You asshole!" I dunked him down under the water. He struggled a moment, then started tugging at my bottoms. That was when I let go and raced over to the deep end.
He followed, unbuckling his wet pants and tossing them and his shirt over to the poolside area. When he came over to me, I was ready to stop playing. We started to kiss, floating in the water. With the water, he gave my boobs a really authentic motorboat. Things were going even further when I heard the back door slide open.
Raine appeared before us. "Sorry to interrupt... but there's big news. Thom and Sara just got engaged!"
I stopped what I was doing and pulled myself out of the pool. "Oh my God I'm so embarrassed, Raine would you hand me my towel?"
Without averting her eyes from me, she chucked a towel my way. "Jeez, Tori, such a show off."
I dried off and went in to congratulate it. It was such a weird moment, because I've known them and loved them since I became Tori, I've seen the entire span of their relationship... in fact, it was at Raine's house that I walked in on them having sex before they even had a relationship!
But for the rest of the night I was quiet. As much as I enjoy my life, I wonder what's going to happen down the road. Suddenly all the stability I thought I had was shaken up because I realize I can't go on like this forever. Tori's only 24, but I'm nearly 30 and I just... well I need to go back to enjoying what my life is like today instead of worrying about the future.
I was a bit quiet. I let Alex drive me home and asked if he wanted to come up. He declined, but I reminded him that having a girlfriend means you should want to spend more time with her. He said sorry for being awkward about it, and agreed to come up, but we didn't do anything by watch a movie on the couch and make out some. Mae was already asleep. He went home around 1.
But I'm not that person anymore, and I can't promise any of you will be in two years, and I certainly can't promise any of you will be where I am in two years. Truthfully, I hope you all get your bodies back, and that if you can't, well, you would be very lucky to enjoy your lives as much as I do mine.
What I'm saying is, if you're new to this... maybe skip this entry. I'm supportive, but I do live my own life.
And that life has taken me into the awkward early phases of my nice new relationship.
We fumbled a bit on the follow-up. I'm used to being the girl now so I just expected he would call me, and I kept having to remind myself "Okay, he's just waiting a few days," like all guys do. But I was hoping he would skip over that because we're friends already, we're close, we should be past that.
I mean hell, right? This isn't some blind date, this isn't meeting and flirting and playing a game of who can seem cooler and make the other one want you. Right? We should both know the deal. We're us. We should be solid. But somehow, we can't get around the communication difficulties.
So Raine, still house sitting for her parents, hosted the annual pool party. I invited Mae along, but she pointed out that Raine's younger brother was her ex, and that might not be a great scene. Fair enough. I let her have the apartment for the day. In the end it was a smart idea, because Ed was there with a girl and I didn't want to see Mae's reaction to that.
I had asked Alex along too of course, and he gave me a strange wishy-washy answer. It's always hard to get him to come out to events involving Raine, Danny and others. I don't know why. I try to incorporate him into the whole group of friends, but he's resisting. So just as I'm ready to get mad at him, he says he promises to show up, later.
This was an irritating compromise, but I went with it, muttering angrily to myself. It feels like there's still a lot I don't know about his life or what he's doing when I'm not around. I try to push that out of my mind, not to be a clingy girlfriend or anything but I have a right to know, don't I?
So I got there around 1 in the afternoon and spent much of the day snacking and lying poolside in my bikini, wishing I had a man to lavish attention on me while I fine tune my tanlines and people horse around in the pool, including much of our social circle, Sara and Thom, and a few people I should know better by now but haven't made an effort, people left over from the original Tori's life.
We drank, we ate, I avoided going in the pool because I wasn't having much fun and just wanted to relax. Eventually I got pretty drunk and fell asleep. By the time I woke up, it was sundown, everyone had moved inside to dry off and eat more.
Alone in the backyard, I decided to dip my toe in the pool. It was nice. I walked over to the diving board and leaped in feet first. Very refreshing.
I pulled myself out and did a few more dives. It was in the course of this that my bikini top came... untied. Maybe my dives were just too intense.
I decided, hell, I'm alone out here, why not? I fished my top out and slung it onto the pool side and began doing topless laps.
Just then, I heard the gate open, and who should appear but the man himself, Alex.
I immediately pushed myself up against the edge of the pool to coyly guard my bare chest. "Well look who finally decided to show up?"
"Just like I said I would," he said with a smirk.
"Why not dive in? Water's nice."
"Oh I don't know..." he said, "I just ate a few hours ago, and they say you're supposed to wait 12 hours after eating to prevent cramps."
I laughed, "I think you got that turned around."
"Maybe. Why are you alone?"
"I keep asking myself the same question, especially when I'm supposed to have a boyfriend."
"Ooh, good one."
"If you see him, let him know I'm waiting."
"Maybe he just doesn't like swimming."
"Does he likes these?" I asked and backed away from the wall to give him a peek.
"He does..."
"Then maybe he should come in and get a better look."
"Or maybe he could wait for her to come out..." and with that, he picked my bikini top up by the strings and flung it further away from the pool.
I screamed out, "You jerk! Now I'm never coming out."
"Well then you're gonna get all pruney."
Slowly, I pulled myself up onto the ledge and let him get a good look at me. "Happy now?"
"Much happier..."
"I can tell," I said, looking down at the bulge in his shorts.
I was shivering, so I pressed myself against him. As he went to kiss me, I held my hands against his chest...
And pushed him right into the pool. Shoes, jeans and all.
He stayed under for a moment, then when he finally surfaced, started splashing, crying out, "I can't swim, I can't swim!"
A moment of panic seized me and I jumped back in the pool. "Don't struggle!" I said, pulling him back over to the shallow end. "You can stand now. Is that better? Oh, God I'm so sorry."
"Yeah, yeah," he gasped. "I mean, don't worry... I was a lifeguard." He said with an evil grin.
"You asshole!" I dunked him down under the water. He struggled a moment, then started tugging at my bottoms. That was when I let go and raced over to the deep end.
He followed, unbuckling his wet pants and tossing them and his shirt over to the poolside area. When he came over to me, I was ready to stop playing. We started to kiss, floating in the water. With the water, he gave my boobs a really authentic motorboat. Things were going even further when I heard the back door slide open.
Raine appeared before us. "Sorry to interrupt... but there's big news. Thom and Sara just got engaged!"
I stopped what I was doing and pulled myself out of the pool. "Oh my God I'm so embarrassed, Raine would you hand me my towel?"
Without averting her eyes from me, she chucked a towel my way. "Jeez, Tori, such a show off."
I dried off and went in to congratulate it. It was such a weird moment, because I've known them and loved them since I became Tori, I've seen the entire span of their relationship... in fact, it was at Raine's house that I walked in on them having sex before they even had a relationship!
But for the rest of the night I was quiet. As much as I enjoy my life, I wonder what's going to happen down the road. Suddenly all the stability I thought I had was shaken up because I realize I can't go on like this forever. Tori's only 24, but I'm nearly 30 and I just... well I need to go back to enjoying what my life is like today instead of worrying about the future.
I was a bit quiet. I let Alex drive me home and asked if he wanted to come up. He declined, but I reminded him that having a girlfriend means you should want to spend more time with her. He said sorry for being awkward about it, and agreed to come up, but we didn't do anything by watch a movie on the couch and make out some. Mae was already asleep. He went home around 1.
Greg/Alexis: Name Calling
Something I've learned from being now 4 different people in my lifetime is that somethings take longer to get used to than others. I think the central theme of this blog was originally how difficult it is to get used to living life as the other sex, and I'll admit, that was probably the biggest and most obvious thing to get used to. Things just feel different and it takes awhile for it to be 2nd nature. It definitly is for me now. I've been female for a long time now and I think if I woke up tomorrow in my old body I'd find it weird as hell.
Body shape is a big difference too. I've been all shapes and sizes. From Priya (Tiny), to Deb (Flabby) To Alex (Fit) and each time you have to react to your body parts being different sizes even though their functionally the same as the ones you had before. Butt size is a big thing. Sitting down is something we all take for granted and we all have this expectation of when our behind is going to hit the chair. If its higher or lower we're slightly surprised. When you all of a sudden lose or gain a few inches/padding to that area, the whole thing changes.
The physical stuff is easy compared to the mental stuff. Youre brain eventually gets used to the neural patterns and you start to adapt to the new shape. But the mind itself doesnt change, or at least not critically. Sure it's flooded with a new batch and level of hormones to deal with but it's still you inside.
What got me thinking and musing was something that happened today. I failed to turn and answer when "my" name was called by someone who knows me. A name is a pretty personal thing. Its drilled into your head you whole life. For 20+ years people called me Greg and I still turn and look when people call it out in public. You cant imagine how hard it is to subconsciously answer to another name out of the blue. This was especially hard when I was a teacher and one of the kids would keep saying "Ms. Patel" 2 or 3 times before I remembered "Oh wait, that's me".
I was reminded of this phenomenon when I was out shopping today, buying groceries even though I have a full time job (*coughs* lazy wife *coughs). When someone practically screams in my ear "ALEX"
I turn and see a woman about my age and height wearing a low cut tank top, blue jeans, designer glasses and a very short haircut reaching over to give me a hug. Clearly this was some friend but I had not idea who. I know its mean to stereotype but she looked like a lesbian, was she an ex? Was she a friend, I know that a lot of times gay people form a tight community. I went into my now familiar "youre-supposed-to-know-this-person-so-fake-like-you-do" mode.
"I havent seen you or Sharon since you went on Vacation, I thought maybe you two liked the coast so much that you moved there"
I chuckled awkwardly "Yeah, but I couldnt leave the excitement of Vermont behind"
We chatted for about 15 minutes while I finished my shopping (she followed me). I managed to BS my way through it. Basically told her that me and Sharon were both really busy with work and regrettably weren't socializing lately. She gave me a few facts about things and people I had no idea about before we parted with her saying that we should totally play tennis sometime.
I called the real Alex later that night after she had put her new kids to bed and she had me go through her facebook friends and link her to the profile of the woman I met, which is brilliant.
Apparently the woman is named Annabelle Maclean and she's a college friend of Sharon and Alexis. Gay, yes but totally platonic with the both of them. Turns out she and Alex are occasional tennis partners. Alex recommended that I hang out with her because she's fun as well as the fact that being social hermits for a year would be pretty damaging to their lives.
I think I'm gonna take her up on that advice because I'm starting to get cabin fever. Malinda may still be getting used to the whole new body new life I'm scared to impersonate someone but this isnt my first rodeo. I'm ready to meet new people. When I decided to become a "Traveler" and take on a new life and body every year I did it so I could have new experiences and meet new people, something I'm not doing a lot of living with a wet blanket like Malinda.
So this weekend I'm going to play tennis, poorly. But I'm going to enjoy myself. Ive actually been dying to test the athletic potential of this body so this will be good for me.
Also on a blog note, I held off on posting the last couple of weeks because Alia told me that there were new writers sending her emails. I wanted to give the readers time to get used to their stories as well as for the writers to be able to post their stuff without it being buried once they got their acccounts.
To our four new "victims" I say welcome and hopefully this is only a one year adventure for you all.
-Greg
Body shape is a big difference too. I've been all shapes and sizes. From Priya (Tiny), to Deb (Flabby) To Alex (Fit) and each time you have to react to your body parts being different sizes even though their functionally the same as the ones you had before. Butt size is a big thing. Sitting down is something we all take for granted and we all have this expectation of when our behind is going to hit the chair. If its higher or lower we're slightly surprised. When you all of a sudden lose or gain a few inches/padding to that area, the whole thing changes.
The physical stuff is easy compared to the mental stuff. Youre brain eventually gets used to the neural patterns and you start to adapt to the new shape. But the mind itself doesnt change, or at least not critically. Sure it's flooded with a new batch and level of hormones to deal with but it's still you inside.
What got me thinking and musing was something that happened today. I failed to turn and answer when "my" name was called by someone who knows me. A name is a pretty personal thing. Its drilled into your head you whole life. For 20+ years people called me Greg and I still turn and look when people call it out in public. You cant imagine how hard it is to subconsciously answer to another name out of the blue. This was especially hard when I was a teacher and one of the kids would keep saying "Ms. Patel" 2 or 3 times before I remembered "Oh wait, that's me".
I was reminded of this phenomenon when I was out shopping today, buying groceries even though I have a full time job (*coughs* lazy wife *coughs). When someone practically screams in my ear "ALEX"
I turn and see a woman about my age and height wearing a low cut tank top, blue jeans, designer glasses and a very short haircut reaching over to give me a hug. Clearly this was some friend but I had not idea who. I know its mean to stereotype but she looked like a lesbian, was she an ex? Was she a friend, I know that a lot of times gay people form a tight community. I went into my now familiar "youre-supposed-to-know-this-person-so-fake-like-you-do" mode.
"I havent seen you or Sharon since you went on Vacation, I thought maybe you two liked the coast so much that you moved there"
I chuckled awkwardly "Yeah, but I couldnt leave the excitement of Vermont behind"
We chatted for about 15 minutes while I finished my shopping (she followed me). I managed to BS my way through it. Basically told her that me and Sharon were both really busy with work and regrettably weren't socializing lately. She gave me a few facts about things and people I had no idea about before we parted with her saying that we should totally play tennis sometime.
I called the real Alex later that night after she had put her new kids to bed and she had me go through her facebook friends and link her to the profile of the woman I met, which is brilliant.
Apparently the woman is named Annabelle Maclean and she's a college friend of Sharon and Alexis. Gay, yes but totally platonic with the both of them. Turns out she and Alex are occasional tennis partners. Alex recommended that I hang out with her because she's fun as well as the fact that being social hermits for a year would be pretty damaging to their lives.
I think I'm gonna take her up on that advice because I'm starting to get cabin fever. Malinda may still be getting used to the whole new body new life I'm scared to impersonate someone but this isnt my first rodeo. I'm ready to meet new people. When I decided to become a "Traveler" and take on a new life and body every year I did it so I could have new experiences and meet new people, something I'm not doing a lot of living with a wet blanket like Malinda.
So this weekend I'm going to play tennis, poorly. But I'm going to enjoy myself. Ive actually been dying to test the athletic potential of this body so this will be good for me.
Also on a blog note, I held off on posting the last couple of weeks because Alia told me that there were new writers sending her emails. I wanted to give the readers time to get used to their stories as well as for the writers to be able to post their stuff without it being buried once they got their acccounts.
To our four new "victims" I say welcome and hopefully this is only a one year adventure for you all.
-Greg
Monday, August 15, 2011
Lisa: Eve
I didn't ask for this did I?
Okay, I feel shitty, like I don't have a right to complain because, look at what just happened to two of my best friends. To be honest, I'm kinda jealous of them, because if you had to be someone else, wouldn't it at least be interest to turn into the opposite sex? They get to learn so much. What do I get? A big reset on my life. They're at least in control. If I have to be "Eve Christopoulos" I have to go to school, live in a dorm with other people and basically give up control.
Okay, my real life isn't anything to be jealous of, but I'm worried I'm just gonna tread over the same path as I did before. Maybe I'll make the most of this opportunity. Maybe I'll waste it. I don't feel good. I don't want to get this girl stuck in a rut but I have no idea how to do things differently.
But we're all sort of forming a support system for each other. Shaun stands on his own... regular guy as regular guy, a shoulder for me to lean on. Zane leans on Anthony: Anthony seems to have the "girl" thing in hand, or at least is hiding his own panic well. He's such a "together" guy that losing his body barely flapped him. Anthony has me to look to as a role model, if he needs it. We sat down and he asked me some very forthright questions about what to expect. I gave him my best answers on how to treat his body. We're sisters now. "Charlotte's" Blackberry was already exploding. We need to get to California pronto, it seems.
To say nothing of the rest of the people here, meeting new "spouses" or saying goodbye to their own loved ones. We're one party that became another party. That's... something to be grateful for I guess.
Then I look back over at Zane and I think how dumb it is for me to complain. Sorry, buddy. I'm here for ya.
Okay, I feel shitty, like I don't have a right to complain because, look at what just happened to two of my best friends. To be honest, I'm kinda jealous of them, because if you had to be someone else, wouldn't it at least be interest to turn into the opposite sex? They get to learn so much. What do I get? A big reset on my life. They're at least in control. If I have to be "Eve Christopoulos" I have to go to school, live in a dorm with other people and basically give up control.
Okay, my real life isn't anything to be jealous of, but I'm worried I'm just gonna tread over the same path as I did before. Maybe I'll make the most of this opportunity. Maybe I'll waste it. I don't feel good. I don't want to get this girl stuck in a rut but I have no idea how to do things differently.
But we're all sort of forming a support system for each other. Shaun stands on his own... regular guy as regular guy, a shoulder for me to lean on. Zane leans on Anthony: Anthony seems to have the "girl" thing in hand, or at least is hiding his own panic well. He's such a "together" guy that losing his body barely flapped him. Anthony has me to look to as a role model, if he needs it. We sat down and he asked me some very forthright questions about what to expect. I gave him my best answers on how to treat his body. We're sisters now. "Charlotte's" Blackberry was already exploding. We need to get to California pronto, it seems.
To say nothing of the rest of the people here, meeting new "spouses" or saying goodbye to their own loved ones. We're one party that became another party. That's... something to be grateful for I guess.
Then I look back over at Zane and I think how dumb it is for me to complain. Sorry, buddy. I'm here for ya.
Sunday, August 14, 2011
Zane: I guess this is what it's like
No choice but to get used to it now... ladies, I'm one of you.
That's a freaky thought. I've had a week to get used to it, but it still doesn't make sense to me. I wake up and I think I'm still me for a split second, then my hand reaches over and pats my breast and... woop. There it is.
I was the last one to open up a suitcase. Anthony was first, showing what a good sport he is. Also he needed to find a pair of glasses because I guess his girl-body has vision problems. Shaun and Lisa followed suit because even though they're in strangers' bodies, they're not all that different. I just laid in bed all day overheating in my sleepwear trying to pretend it was all some sick dream.
Before I even read the letter I was not a fan of this chick. She did not pack any jeans or slacks or what I would call "sensible" underwear. I guess it's too much to ask that a girl wear boxers, but all I'm left with are these little triangles of fabric. I looked at these things thinking "these things are gonna choke me to death down there" but no, they slipped on nice and snug. There was nothing really "guyish" to wear, it was all summer dresses, light, billowy, flauncy things with girly patterns on them. Anthony convinced me to put one one just to see how it felt. I felt like a guy in a dress. He said I looked fine but I felt ridiculous. I'm not used to showing a lot of skin, so these wee thin straps over my shoulders, and the way it just barely comes up over my chest... I look down and I can see right down between my... my thingies.
Boobs.
I don't want to have them.
I love them, I do, on women. They're great to look at and I can't deny the longer I have a set of my own the more I cup them and rub them and smoosh them, but then a feeling goes through my body and I remember these are ATTACHED to me and that's not right. They feel inconvenient to jam into these stupid bras and dresses, even though they're not that big. They're just these little bobbles of flesh that bounce a bit when I move too quickly.
So let's talk about this woman. Clara, 24... a model from California. And I would think "Hey if I have to live someone's life, it seems really easy to be someone who's just hot for a living." But it sounds like a lot of stress, because half her letter to me was intricately describing her lifestyle, workout routines, diet, beauty regiments, blah, blah... as my eyes scrolled down this lengthy list of directions on hos to be this girl, I just felt sick. Like I wasn't in charge of anything anymore. Claustrophobic. She's in control of me. There's nothing I can do.
We're going to California tomorrow and I'm taking a break from writing out my own letter to let you know about me.
That's a freaky thought. I've had a week to get used to it, but it still doesn't make sense to me. I wake up and I think I'm still me for a split second, then my hand reaches over and pats my breast and... woop. There it is.
I was the last one to open up a suitcase. Anthony was first, showing what a good sport he is. Also he needed to find a pair of glasses because I guess his girl-body has vision problems. Shaun and Lisa followed suit because even though they're in strangers' bodies, they're not all that different. I just laid in bed all day overheating in my sleepwear trying to pretend it was all some sick dream.
Before I even read the letter I was not a fan of this chick. She did not pack any jeans or slacks or what I would call "sensible" underwear. I guess it's too much to ask that a girl wear boxers, but all I'm left with are these little triangles of fabric. I looked at these things thinking "these things are gonna choke me to death down there" but no, they slipped on nice and snug. There was nothing really "guyish" to wear, it was all summer dresses, light, billowy, flauncy things with girly patterns on them. Anthony convinced me to put one one just to see how it felt. I felt like a guy in a dress. He said I looked fine but I felt ridiculous. I'm not used to showing a lot of skin, so these wee thin straps over my shoulders, and the way it just barely comes up over my chest... I look down and I can see right down between my... my thingies.
Boobs.
I don't want to have them.
I love them, I do, on women. They're great to look at and I can't deny the longer I have a set of my own the more I cup them and rub them and smoosh them, but then a feeling goes through my body and I remember these are ATTACHED to me and that's not right. They feel inconvenient to jam into these stupid bras and dresses, even though they're not that big. They're just these little bobbles of flesh that bounce a bit when I move too quickly.
So let's talk about this woman. Clara, 24... a model from California. And I would think "Hey if I have to live someone's life, it seems really easy to be someone who's just hot for a living." But it sounds like a lot of stress, because half her letter to me was intricately describing her lifestyle, workout routines, diet, beauty regiments, blah, blah... as my eyes scrolled down this lengthy list of directions on hos to be this girl, I just felt sick. Like I wasn't in charge of anything anymore. Claustrophobic. She's in control of me. There's nothing I can do.
We're going to California tomorrow and I'm taking a break from writing out my own letter to let you know about me.
Thursday, August 11, 2011
Anthony: Straightening out the chaos
None of us can seem to put this situation into words. Having pored over this blog for the past couple of days, I sense you all have as good of an understanding as you can as to what has just happened to us. I wish we had had any sort of warning, but how can you? Especially since, so they say, anyone told about the curse will be in disbelief.
I was running in control mode all day Sunday. Realizing my body had changed, I suppose, sent me into a headspace of solving problems and making sure everything was OK with my friends. I knew I was a female now, but I didn't let that register with me until it was okay to indulge a little personal panic. I had to keep calm for everyone else. The first thing I did was check on Zane. He was understandably freaks. He had been changed, like me, into a girl. At first I thought all of us had been changed into opposite-gendered bodies, but when I visited Shaun and Lisa, I found that was not the case. And so the mystery of the Trading Post Inn began to unravel. Before long it was something we could wrap our heads around.
That doesn't mean I like it, but I can't deal with that right now. Before I can worry about myself, I need assurance that everyone is healthy and safe and... I don't know, adjusting, if need be.
After I confirmed what had happened with Shaun and Lisa, we went about figuring out the missing pieces of our "new lives." Lisa and I have wound up in the bodies of a pair of sisters, albeit ones separated by ten years. Lisa is a girl named Eve, who is going into her first year at college. "Doug" you already know about, and Zane is his "sister," a woman named Clara.
I've been keeping an eye on him. For the first day he didn't move much, probably as much due to hangover as to shock and not wanting to "deal with it." Finally, when he drifted back asleep I sneaked back to my own room.
I was reluctant to go rooting through this woman's luggage, but I knew nothing I had was going to fit me. Her figure is very... womanly and I was embarrassed to stay in my own clothes as long as I did because it must have looked pathetic. Even so, I had a hard time imagining myself picking out an outfit.
Her name is Charlotte Christopoulos, "Ceecee," a junior modelling agent. Clearly not a model herself. When I finally got a look at myself naked, I was not thrilled.
I don't want to use the word "fat." I'm a sensitive guy and I know that women come in all shapes. "Fat" implies there's a giant gut bulging out, just rolls everywhere. "Curvy" is the correct term... she's got a bit of a belly curving over the waistband of the underpants, and a very wide set of hips... a big bum to sit on... but that's what they say "real women" are supposed to look like, isn't it? It comes with a very large set of boobs hanging down, blocking my view of my feet. When I found a bra to wear, the cups were 34-F's. And I think it may be too small. I wedged my tits in and they really felt like they were on display... I really understand why they call it a "rack."
I tried to squeeze myself into a set of jean-shorts, but that wasn't comfortable... they rode up in the front which is not only tight, but unnatural feeling for me as I'm used to that area featuring very different geography, of course.
With a sigh, I switched out for a skirt and tanktop, walking and sitting awkwardly the rest of the day. Zane took a look at me and asked how I could be wearing these clothes, and I said there wasn't much option and he was going to have to deal with it sooner than later. Weakly, he looked up at me and asked, his voice taking a girlish tone, "Is it gonna be okay?"
I nodded, "Yeah, I think so," not sure whether I believed it.
I was running in control mode all day Sunday. Realizing my body had changed, I suppose, sent me into a headspace of solving problems and making sure everything was OK with my friends. I knew I was a female now, but I didn't let that register with me until it was okay to indulge a little personal panic. I had to keep calm for everyone else. The first thing I did was check on Zane. He was understandably freaks. He had been changed, like me, into a girl. At first I thought all of us had been changed into opposite-gendered bodies, but when I visited Shaun and Lisa, I found that was not the case. And so the mystery of the Trading Post Inn began to unravel. Before long it was something we could wrap our heads around.
That doesn't mean I like it, but I can't deal with that right now. Before I can worry about myself, I need assurance that everyone is healthy and safe and... I don't know, adjusting, if need be.
After I confirmed what had happened with Shaun and Lisa, we went about figuring out the missing pieces of our "new lives." Lisa and I have wound up in the bodies of a pair of sisters, albeit ones separated by ten years. Lisa is a girl named Eve, who is going into her first year at college. "Doug" you already know about, and Zane is his "sister," a woman named Clara.
I've been keeping an eye on him. For the first day he didn't move much, probably as much due to hangover as to shock and not wanting to "deal with it." Finally, when he drifted back asleep I sneaked back to my own room.
I was reluctant to go rooting through this woman's luggage, but I knew nothing I had was going to fit me. Her figure is very... womanly and I was embarrassed to stay in my own clothes as long as I did because it must have looked pathetic. Even so, I had a hard time imagining myself picking out an outfit.
Her name is Charlotte Christopoulos, "Ceecee," a junior modelling agent. Clearly not a model herself. When I finally got a look at myself naked, I was not thrilled.
I don't want to use the word "fat." I'm a sensitive guy and I know that women come in all shapes. "Fat" implies there's a giant gut bulging out, just rolls everywhere. "Curvy" is the correct term... she's got a bit of a belly curving over the waistband of the underpants, and a very wide set of hips... a big bum to sit on... but that's what they say "real women" are supposed to look like, isn't it? It comes with a very large set of boobs hanging down, blocking my view of my feet. When I found a bra to wear, the cups were 34-F's. And I think it may be too small. I wedged my tits in and they really felt like they were on display... I really understand why they call it a "rack."
I tried to squeeze myself into a set of jean-shorts, but that wasn't comfortable... they rode up in the front which is not only tight, but unnatural feeling for me as I'm used to that area featuring very different geography, of course.
With a sigh, I switched out for a skirt and tanktop, walking and sitting awkwardly the rest of the day. Zane took a look at me and asked how I could be wearing these clothes, and I said there wasn't much option and he was going to have to deal with it sooner than later. Weakly, he looked up at me and asked, his voice taking a girlish tone, "Is it gonna be okay?"
I nodded, "Yeah, I think so," not sure whether I believed it.
Wednesday, August 10, 2011
Shaun: Tell me what to do
The others are too freaked out to talk. Once we found out this e-mail was connected with this blog I asked "Alia" to refrain from posting any of our correspondence until we had our own accounts set up and were ready to talk.
I think I'm probably the only one who's in a place to say anything, so here's what happened.
Lisa and I were in bed Saturday night. I was already asleep, she stumbled in drunk. I offered to take the floor, but she was pretty belligerent, saying "Head to toe, we're going head-to-toe. Go back to sleep." Right.
We wake up at the crack of dawn when she falls out of bed. I hear the thump and when I look over, I see her on the floor... I mean I don't see her, but I see her hand waving, "It's all right!"
She pulls her up and suddenly I get a glimpse of her and something's not right. "Lisa," I say, "Are you all right?"
"Yeah," she says. We come face to face, and she gives me this look like she doesn't know who I am.
Neither of us had any idea what the other person was looking at. So there was this initial reaction of "Who are you, I'm me, what are you talking about, what's going on..." I guess it hit us differently than the others, because even though the faces in the mirror were different, they weren't drastic changes.
The girl I was looking at was now a much younger form, thinner and perkier, with long dark hair rather than Lisa's shoulder-length blonde do. My own face had changed pretty noticeably, too. Somehow, my beard had shaved itself off overnight, like her I lost a few years off my skin and face... my hairline moved forward some, my hair lightened from its chestnut brown tone to a lighter, more gingery tone. At the time, the changes were strange enough, but we didn't sense the full depth of the weirdness going on until we heard a knock at the door. We stopped in our tracks, silently wondering if we would open it to find answers. Instead, more questions.
What I saw was a short, round-figured woman with rosy cheeks, with similar long dark hair and features to Lisa's. She looked back and forth between us. She turned to me and asked, "Lisa?"
I pointed at the girl by the bed. The woman in the doorway seemed struck. Seeing them side by side, they were clearly sisters. The older woman looked up at me gravely. "Shaun."
"Yeah. Do we... know you?"
She hesitated a moment before identifying herself as Anthony. I didn't want to believe it. Whatever had happened to us had affected everyone else at the inn similarly... even more strangely at that. My best friend for a decade, a former collegiate athlete, standing before me as a woman half-dressed in ill-fitting men's sleep clothes. I was too stunned to ask him anything about what had happened. I didn't know if he could answer, I didn't want him to.
He sat on the bed and swept his long locks out of his face. "It doesn't make sense." He had clearly already been thinking a while. "Between me and Zane, we both changed into... we're both like this, I thought you guys would... I mean, the pattern doesn't add up. I thought everyone was being changed... like this."
"You're a girl." Lisa finally said. Anthony nodded without glancing over.
"How did this happen?" I blurted out, trying to be constructive.
"I don't know," Anthony said, "I'm not sure it matters. I thought we were being changed randomly, but looking at Lisa... there's a similarity there, right?"
"Right," I answered back.
Anthony began to deduce there were specific people we had become, and that was when Lisa remembered the bags. I can't believe she hadn't mentioned them earlier, the mysterious discarded luggage in our room's closet. There was only one set, though. We opened it up to find it was a man's... mine. In it were, of course, better-fitting clothes, and a number of personal papers, and a letter attempting to explain the situation.
Now that I know this e-mail is connected to this blog, I don't need to explain to you how the wheels in our heads started turning. It quickly occurred to me that I was being told about my new life.
The man in question is Doug Green, a manager for Home Supply Depot from Santa Monica, California. There weren't too many extra details beyond that, aside form the fact that his wife is back there waiting for him.
That made me have to sit down. On first reading it, it just seems like somebody's life is being described to me. It isn't until you get to a detail like that that you pause and realize you're being told about the life you are going to lead. Just a few weeks ago, my fiancee broke my heart. Now I'm suddenly a married man? Heavy.
I'm trying not to show my emotion in front of the others, though. As soon as we became aware of the situation it was clear, even before we found out about their letters, that Anthony, Zane and even Lisa had more on their plate. But I can't help but admit to you that it's a lot to digest.
So I'm keeping my mouth shut a little, out of respect. We're just waiting to figure out what our next move is.
I think I'm probably the only one who's in a place to say anything, so here's what happened.
Lisa and I were in bed Saturday night. I was already asleep, she stumbled in drunk. I offered to take the floor, but she was pretty belligerent, saying "Head to toe, we're going head-to-toe. Go back to sleep." Right.
We wake up at the crack of dawn when she falls out of bed. I hear the thump and when I look over, I see her on the floor... I mean I don't see her, but I see her hand waving, "It's all right!"
She pulls her up and suddenly I get a glimpse of her and something's not right. "Lisa," I say, "Are you all right?"
"Yeah," she says. We come face to face, and she gives me this look like she doesn't know who I am.
Neither of us had any idea what the other person was looking at. So there was this initial reaction of "Who are you, I'm me, what are you talking about, what's going on..." I guess it hit us differently than the others, because even though the faces in the mirror were different, they weren't drastic changes.
The girl I was looking at was now a much younger form, thinner and perkier, with long dark hair rather than Lisa's shoulder-length blonde do. My own face had changed pretty noticeably, too. Somehow, my beard had shaved itself off overnight, like her I lost a few years off my skin and face... my hairline moved forward some, my hair lightened from its chestnut brown tone to a lighter, more gingery tone. At the time, the changes were strange enough, but we didn't sense the full depth of the weirdness going on until we heard a knock at the door. We stopped in our tracks, silently wondering if we would open it to find answers. Instead, more questions.
What I saw was a short, round-figured woman with rosy cheeks, with similar long dark hair and features to Lisa's. She looked back and forth between us. She turned to me and asked, "Lisa?"
I pointed at the girl by the bed. The woman in the doorway seemed struck. Seeing them side by side, they were clearly sisters. The older woman looked up at me gravely. "Shaun."
"Yeah. Do we... know you?"
She hesitated a moment before identifying herself as Anthony. I didn't want to believe it. Whatever had happened to us had affected everyone else at the inn similarly... even more strangely at that. My best friend for a decade, a former collegiate athlete, standing before me as a woman half-dressed in ill-fitting men's sleep clothes. I was too stunned to ask him anything about what had happened. I didn't know if he could answer, I didn't want him to.
He sat on the bed and swept his long locks out of his face. "It doesn't make sense." He had clearly already been thinking a while. "Between me and Zane, we both changed into... we're both like this, I thought you guys would... I mean, the pattern doesn't add up. I thought everyone was being changed... like this."
"You're a girl." Lisa finally said. Anthony nodded without glancing over.
"How did this happen?" I blurted out, trying to be constructive.
"I don't know," Anthony said, "I'm not sure it matters. I thought we were being changed randomly, but looking at Lisa... there's a similarity there, right?"
"Right," I answered back.
Anthony began to deduce there were specific people we had become, and that was when Lisa remembered the bags. I can't believe she hadn't mentioned them earlier, the mysterious discarded luggage in our room's closet. There was only one set, though. We opened it up to find it was a man's... mine. In it were, of course, better-fitting clothes, and a number of personal papers, and a letter attempting to explain the situation.
Now that I know this e-mail is connected to this blog, I don't need to explain to you how the wheels in our heads started turning. It quickly occurred to me that I was being told about my new life.
The man in question is Doug Green, a manager for Home Supply Depot from Santa Monica, California. There weren't too many extra details beyond that, aside form the fact that his wife is back there waiting for him.
That made me have to sit down. On first reading it, it just seems like somebody's life is being described to me. It isn't until you get to a detail like that that you pause and realize you're being told about the life you are going to lead. Just a few weeks ago, my fiancee broke my heart. Now I'm suddenly a married man? Heavy.
I'm trying not to show my emotion in front of the others, though. As soon as we became aware of the situation it was clear, even before we found out about their letters, that Anthony, Zane and even Lisa had more on their plate. But I can't help but admit to you that it's a lot to digest.
So I'm keeping my mouth shut a little, out of respect. We're just waiting to figure out what our next move is.
Sunday, August 07, 2011
ZANE - WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK WHAT THE FUCK
OKAY OKAY OKAY I'm sobered up a bit now. It's nearly 5 AM and I'm afraid to leave this room so I thought I would send you another e-mail kindly asking WHAT THE FUCK IS GOING ON???
I was feeling weird until I passed out. I was asleep for maybe an hour when I heard a knock at the door. I stand up to answer it and my legs give out from under me. My clothes feel baggy, but I hold my waistband and slowly walk across the room. When I open the door I'm looking down at this chick dressed a guy's t-shirt and boxers. I can barely see her in the darkness and for a second I think it's Lisa, but Lisa's blonde.
"Hello?" I say in a whisper, my throat scratchy from all the drinking I did last night.
"Zane?" she asks.
"Uh, yeah?"
"So it happened to you too."
"What happened?" I'm totally confused what this chick is going on about.
"This happened." She pokes me in the chest and walks past me into my room. And where she poked me, it feels soft, kinda spongy, kinda like... well, like a breast. Like a girl's breast.
I look down and I can kinda see them and I can kinda feel them hanging off my chest but they're not... I mean, I can't tell if I feel anything different. She walks through to my washroom and turns on the light and I just keep asking myself "Do I know this lady? What's she going on about?" rather than, you know, noticing what's going on with me. That happened a second later when she said "Come look, you idiot."
I follow her because I think something sexy is going on, or I'm having a really lucid, really freaky dream. She's staring at herself in the mirror. I turn and face the reflection and
THAT'S NOT ME.
I gasp. "What the FUCK." Suddenly I notice how squeaky my voice has gotten. Way too high.
In the mirror, I see us clearly. She's short, her head only comes up to my neck. Long dark hair, squinting at herself. I don't have time to really look at her face because I'm too busy looking at mine or at least where mine is supposed to be. But I don't see me.
I see a chick.
She's tall and thin and... pretty, I guess, but she's ME. I moved my hand in front of my face and it was like... like I was watching somebody else.
She was a girl though. Me. I'm the girl. I cup my hands over my breasts and I feel them... they can move and everything. They just barely fit in my hands but it's like I have my own tits growing off me! I scream out "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS WHO ARE YOU??"
And she looks up at me, totally calm and everything and goes "Zane. I'm Anthony."
Bullshit.
She doesn't look like Anthony. She doesn't sound like Anthony. She's dressed in his clothes but...
but...
shit. I look at myself again. I don't look or sound like me. Something happened.
I back away. I don't want to look. I don't want to see anything.
She starts pacing back and forth like Anthony does. Talking very confidently.
"Okay, let's get a handle on this. Overnight, we, our bodies, have been transformed."
"We've been transformed??" I repeat, not believing this shit.
"It's the only... explanation. It sounds crazy, but we're in our own rooms. I was in bed when it happened. Something startled me and I just woke up like this. In my own room, still in my own clothes. Zane, we've turned into girls."
I stare at her. "This is what I'd look like as a girl?"
"That's what you DO look like. Zane. This must have happened to everyone here."
"Well what about the girls? Did they turn into guys?"
"Potentially," he says. Or she says?
"Well do you think there's a way to undo this?"
"I don't know. How would I know?"
"I don't know! You seem to know what's going on!"
"Just because I'm calm, don't misunderstand, Zane, I'm just as confused as anyone. But freaking out isn't going to do us any good. Something happened to us that's beyond explanation. We might be stuck, or we might just need to stay like this for a little while."
So I'm asking YOU, TRADING POST EMAIL to please EXPLAIN THIS SHIT TO ME.
Ugh I can't even look at my dainty little hands while I'm typing this. Fuuuuck.
I was feeling weird until I passed out. I was asleep for maybe an hour when I heard a knock at the door. I stand up to answer it and my legs give out from under me. My clothes feel baggy, but I hold my waistband and slowly walk across the room. When I open the door I'm looking down at this chick dressed a guy's t-shirt and boxers. I can barely see her in the darkness and for a second I think it's Lisa, but Lisa's blonde.
"Hello?" I say in a whisper, my throat scratchy from all the drinking I did last night.
"Zane?" she asks.
"Uh, yeah?"
"So it happened to you too."
"What happened?" I'm totally confused what this chick is going on about.
"This happened." She pokes me in the chest and walks past me into my room. And where she poked me, it feels soft, kinda spongy, kinda like... well, like a breast. Like a girl's breast.
I look down and I can kinda see them and I can kinda feel them hanging off my chest but they're not... I mean, I can't tell if I feel anything different. She walks through to my washroom and turns on the light and I just keep asking myself "Do I know this lady? What's she going on about?" rather than, you know, noticing what's going on with me. That happened a second later when she said "Come look, you idiot."
I follow her because I think something sexy is going on, or I'm having a really lucid, really freaky dream. She's staring at herself in the mirror. I turn and face the reflection and
THAT'S NOT ME.
I gasp. "What the FUCK." Suddenly I notice how squeaky my voice has gotten. Way too high.
In the mirror, I see us clearly. She's short, her head only comes up to my neck. Long dark hair, squinting at herself. I don't have time to really look at her face because I'm too busy looking at mine or at least where mine is supposed to be. But I don't see me.
I see a chick.
She's tall and thin and... pretty, I guess, but she's ME. I moved my hand in front of my face and it was like... like I was watching somebody else.
She was a girl though. Me. I'm the girl. I cup my hands over my breasts and I feel them... they can move and everything. They just barely fit in my hands but it's like I have my own tits growing off me! I scream out "WHAT THE FUCK IS THIS WHO ARE YOU??"
And she looks up at me, totally calm and everything and goes "Zane. I'm Anthony."
Bullshit.
She doesn't look like Anthony. She doesn't sound like Anthony. She's dressed in his clothes but...
but...
shit. I look at myself again. I don't look or sound like me. Something happened.
I back away. I don't want to look. I don't want to see anything.
She starts pacing back and forth like Anthony does. Talking very confidently.
"Okay, let's get a handle on this. Overnight, we, our bodies, have been transformed."
"We've been transformed??" I repeat, not believing this shit.
"It's the only... explanation. It sounds crazy, but we're in our own rooms. I was in bed when it happened. Something startled me and I just woke up like this. In my own room, still in my own clothes. Zane, we've turned into girls."
I stare at her. "This is what I'd look like as a girl?"
"That's what you DO look like. Zane. This must have happened to everyone here."
"Well what about the girls? Did they turn into guys?"
"Potentially," he says. Or she says?
"Well do you think there's a way to undo this?"
"I don't know. How would I know?"
"I don't know! You seem to know what's going on!"
"Just because I'm calm, don't misunderstand, Zane, I'm just as confused as anyone. But freaking out isn't going to do us any good. Something happened to us that's beyond explanation. We might be stuck, or we might just need to stay like this for a little while."
So I'm asking YOU, TRADING POST EMAIL to please EXPLAIN THIS SHIT TO ME.
Ugh I can't even look at my dainty little hands while I'm typing this. Fuuuuck.
Zane - Werid stuff
Okay so I'm a bit drunk so if i can't type my bad. Im usaully way better even when im drunk but my fingers feel weird. this whole place feels wierd. um. where Do i begin?
this E-Mail, like I never heard of a n independant cutsromer sevrice e-mail. I couldn't finf any reference to this email on the trading post site, so I dunno who you work for but let me tell yuo about my weekend.
Maine makes people do weird thigns. Take Lisa who's NEVER shown any intesret in me before. Weve known each other for years, years and if anthing, she's gotte nless intersted in me over time! She doesn't believe me but I told her she still looks like when we were in college. Last night we got to drinking and while Shaun and Anthony were off playing darts, me and her were going beer for beer pounding local brews and after about six she was looking really good, so I lean over and I dothe thing where I sweep some hair out of her eyes. Classic.
So she leans in and kisses me and we walk back up the beach to my room because shes sharing a room with Shaun. I thought that meant she was ghooking up with him!
But we get back to my room and start getting busy, but the second I get my hand up he shirt she backs off. "Sorry" she says, "but I need to stop before we do something I regret." Bleh. That sucked. Its been way too long since I touched breasts.
Anyway, Maine does weird things to people. Maybe it's the ocean air making people horny. Maybe that's just the alcohol. When I started this I could barely type (I'm writing in on an iPhone) but now my fingers feel less clumsy. Must be sobering up.
The people next door won't stop murmuring. That's another tyhing. These people, I hear their voiced all night I can barely sleep.
I think something made me sick. Maybe it was that local beer, or there was bedbugs in the sheets. I feel like I've got a rash -- can't stop scratching my arms and my scalp... but I don't feel any bumps.
I feel like I've got the most epic case of BSTL (Balls Stuck To Leg) ever. The rain is making it humid and my hair is getting all frizzy, I feel like I've got a cough stuck in my throat. Take a deep breath hold on. I cant get comfortable in this bed its wreckerd my back my muscles are all tense.
hold on I don't know how to end this email
this E-Mail, like I never heard of a n independant cutsromer sevrice e-mail. I couldn't finf any reference to this email on the trading post site, so I dunno who you work for but let me tell yuo about my weekend.
Maine makes people do weird thigns. Take Lisa who's NEVER shown any intesret in me before. Weve known each other for years, years and if anthing, she's gotte nless intersted in me over time! She doesn't believe me but I told her she still looks like when we were in college. Last night we got to drinking and while Shaun and Anthony were off playing darts, me and her were going beer for beer pounding local brews and after about six she was looking really good, so I lean over and I dothe thing where I sweep some hair out of her eyes. Classic.
So she leans in and kisses me and we walk back up the beach to my room because shes sharing a room with Shaun. I thought that meant she was ghooking up with him!
But we get back to my room and start getting busy, but the second I get my hand up he shirt she backs off. "Sorry" she says, "but I need to stop before we do something I regret." Bleh. That sucked. Its been way too long since I touched breasts.
Anyway, Maine does weird things to people. Maybe it's the ocean air making people horny. Maybe that's just the alcohol. When I started this I could barely type (I'm writing in on an iPhone) but now my fingers feel less clumsy. Must be sobering up.
The people next door won't stop murmuring. That's another tyhing. These people, I hear their voiced all night I can barely sleep.
I think something made me sick. Maybe it was that local beer, or there was bedbugs in the sheets. I feel like I've got a rash -- can't stop scratching my arms and my scalp... but I don't feel any bumps.
I feel like I've got the most epic case of BSTL (Balls Stuck To Leg) ever. The rain is making it humid and my hair is getting all frizzy, I feel like I've got a cough stuck in my throat. Take a deep breath hold on. I cant get comfortable in this bed its wreckerd my back my muscles are all tense.
hold on I don't know how to end this email
Friday, August 05, 2011
Lisa- Regrets
Dear Trading Post E-Mail,
Is it weird that I suspect you're not actually affiliated with the Inn? I hope not, because I feel kind of bold tonight (although that may just be the Crown and Coke I have sitting on the nightstand) and I wanna spill my guts a little.
My friend Shaun tells me he said a bit about what brought us here. About how his fiancee broke up with him before the wedding. When he couldn't get rid of the reservation, I came along because I needed to get out of my rut, but truth is, it's just reminding me about some mistakes I've made.
My time to get married came about five years ago. I was in my 20's and had been seeing him for only a year, so I thought it was too soon even though I really liked him. He took my rejection pretty hard, but I tried to keep the relationship going... he apparently never got over it. Over-emotional, which was his main failing, but otherwise he was a solid guy. Good job, nice hair, great car... guh, I'm driving myself crazy just remembering him.
It was dumb of me to turn him down, but I thought he'd propose again in time, when we were more certain. Our relationship lasted a few months more, then he decided his heart wasn't in it and off he went.
Now, of course, I realize my mistake. I haven't dated anyone seriously since him, and he's married with a kid. That could be me by now!
Well, that's my spilled milk to cry over.
I came along because I was hoping to meet someone. You never know. But it's hard to find guys to chat up when you're constantly surrounded by your male college friends.
It's getting brutal, but even Zane is starting to look decent to me. Shh, don't tell the others. Even Shaun, if I didn't know he would read too much into it, might deserve a pity fuck. But I've never been that girl to any of them, and that's a good thing.
Except now that I need something easy and fun.
Even if I end up regretting it later... which I almost certainly would! Oooof, I have said too much. Blame it on the drinks!
Is it weird that I suspect you're not actually affiliated with the Inn? I hope not, because I feel kind of bold tonight (although that may just be the Crown and Coke I have sitting on the nightstand) and I wanna spill my guts a little.
My friend Shaun tells me he said a bit about what brought us here. About how his fiancee broke up with him before the wedding. When he couldn't get rid of the reservation, I came along because I needed to get out of my rut, but truth is, it's just reminding me about some mistakes I've made.
My time to get married came about five years ago. I was in my 20's and had been seeing him for only a year, so I thought it was too soon even though I really liked him. He took my rejection pretty hard, but I tried to keep the relationship going... he apparently never got over it. Over-emotional, which was his main failing, but otherwise he was a solid guy. Good job, nice hair, great car... guh, I'm driving myself crazy just remembering him.
It was dumb of me to turn him down, but I thought he'd propose again in time, when we were more certain. Our relationship lasted a few months more, then he decided his heart wasn't in it and off he went.
Now, of course, I realize my mistake. I haven't dated anyone seriously since him, and he's married with a kid. That could be me by now!
Well, that's my spilled milk to cry over.
I came along because I was hoping to meet someone. You never know. But it's hard to find guys to chat up when you're constantly surrounded by your male college friends.
It's getting brutal, but even Zane is starting to look decent to me. Shh, don't tell the others. Even Shaun, if I didn't know he would read too much into it, might deserve a pity fuck. But I've never been that girl to any of them, and that's a good thing.
Except now that I need something easy and fun.
Even if I end up regretting it later... which I almost certainly would! Oooof, I have said too much. Blame it on the drinks!
Thursday, August 04, 2011
Shaun -- Trip of Fools
Dear Trading Post Inn: Screw You.
This has got to be the worst trip ever.
A little background. Last Christmas, I proposed to my longtime girlfriend. We set the date for September. Unfortunately, our work schedules basically made honeymooning impossible, so we booked this non-refundable vacation in Maine as sort of a pre-honeymoon. It was going to be us and her brother Anthony and his girlfriend Rebbecca. Anthony and I are very close, he was going to be my best man. He's a really together guy, a VP for a Travel Agency. Very organized, and once you get to know him, pretty funny. We went to college together, and he introduced me to his sister.
Then in July -- as in two weeks ago -- she calls it off. Five years together gone because she's got cold feet. No matter how much I beg and plead, she won't hear me out or take me back. I guess you can't force someone to marry you if they don't want to.
So after all this grief and heartache and trying to figure out when I can get my stuff, I'm stuck with these tickets and reservations I can't seem to get rid of. Logic dictates they would just hand the reservations off to anyone else or, you know, just have some vacant slots in their stupid hotel, but no, apparently logic doesn't apply in Maine and I am honor bound to keep the reservation. Even if I don't show up, I'll be billed. That's bullshit, I'm sorry.
But here I am anyway on my lonely little non-honeymoon. Since the reservation was for two, I decided to invite my old college friend Lisa. She's cute and everything but I never really thought of her that way. Still, I know she's had a few negative experiences, so she keeps elbowing me and reminding me she's not a rebound. Yeah, Lisa, I know.
To top that all off? Anthony's girlfriend got food poisoning and her last-minute replacement, keeping with the "college reunion" theme, we brought our other buddy Zane along. He's had a rough time of his own, being unemployed for the last three years, aside from piecework and shit jobs. It's nice to get "the gang" back together, but under these circumstances, it's depressing as hell.
But I guess it could be worse. The weather's mild. We still all get along well. The beds seem comfy enough. The place has a certain rustic charm. I just need a lot of beer from now until we go home.
At least someone slipped this e-mail address under my door. Sorry for ranting, but you did say to "open up" about my Inn experience!
Yours,
Shaun Moran
This has got to be the worst trip ever.
A little background. Last Christmas, I proposed to my longtime girlfriend. We set the date for September. Unfortunately, our work schedules basically made honeymooning impossible, so we booked this non-refundable vacation in Maine as sort of a pre-honeymoon. It was going to be us and her brother Anthony and his girlfriend Rebbecca. Anthony and I are very close, he was going to be my best man. He's a really together guy, a VP for a Travel Agency. Very organized, and once you get to know him, pretty funny. We went to college together, and he introduced me to his sister.
Then in July -- as in two weeks ago -- she calls it off. Five years together gone because she's got cold feet. No matter how much I beg and plead, she won't hear me out or take me back. I guess you can't force someone to marry you if they don't want to.
So after all this grief and heartache and trying to figure out when I can get my stuff, I'm stuck with these tickets and reservations I can't seem to get rid of. Logic dictates they would just hand the reservations off to anyone else or, you know, just have some vacant slots in their stupid hotel, but no, apparently logic doesn't apply in Maine and I am honor bound to keep the reservation. Even if I don't show up, I'll be billed. That's bullshit, I'm sorry.
But here I am anyway on my lonely little non-honeymoon. Since the reservation was for two, I decided to invite my old college friend Lisa. She's cute and everything but I never really thought of her that way. Still, I know she's had a few negative experiences, so she keeps elbowing me and reminding me she's not a rebound. Yeah, Lisa, I know.
To top that all off? Anthony's girlfriend got food poisoning and her last-minute replacement, keeping with the "college reunion" theme, we brought our other buddy Zane along. He's had a rough time of his own, being unemployed for the last three years, aside from piecework and shit jobs. It's nice to get "the gang" back together, but under these circumstances, it's depressing as hell.
But I guess it could be worse. The weather's mild. We still all get along well. The beds seem comfy enough. The place has a certain rustic charm. I just need a lot of beer from now until we go home.
At least someone slipped this e-mail address under my door. Sorry for ranting, but you did say to "open up" about my Inn experience!
Yours,
Shaun Moran
Wednesday, August 03, 2011
Todd: Hit the Road
Wow, long time no see!
It isn't that my life has been exceptionally interesting, quite the opposite. All spring I was finishing up at University, chasing after that pesky BA that's eluded me for nearly a decade.
And now that I have it... I don't really know what to do with my life. I still work at the store, I still play the occasional gig with Bry and Shelby, but all that... that's not a long-term plan. We can try to make the music thing work, believe me nothing would please me more, but all we can do is keep plugging along.
Sometimes Bry and I joke about going back to the Inn -- when Alia and Shel aren't around (since Shel wouldn't get it, and Alia woudn't hear of it,) -- and waking up in the as people who already have their lives laid out. That's the fantasy, that someone would tell us how to live and who to be. Isn't that pathetic? Well, the grass is always greener, because we already lived those lives, and we hated them.
But just when things were getting rough, and Bry was attempting to re-open contact with Ellie, this opportunity came up, not unlike the one that brought us to Maine to begin with. Our band -- the one that barely rehearses and didn't have a proper name -- was asked to fill in as an opening act for this local pop punk band that's touring the Northeast.
It seems like a pretty good deal, and it's been a lot of fun, but to make it worth our while we've had to book a few gigs of our own. We called up contacts, did exhaustive searches, and barely scrounged up enough gigs that we will have a reason to keep being out there until September.
The problem is, when people want to book you, they want a name to go along with it. This has been a point of contention between the three of us. Until last month, when Bry had a burst of inspiration. He chose something that meant a lot to both of us, as well as carrying meaning for people like Shelby who don't, and never will, know our true story.
Our new band name? Somebody Else.
I'm checking in quickly, because we hit the road for the border tomorrow morning. The tour's already passed through Southern Ontario, Mississauga, London, we just finished the Windsor show... we'll be swinging through Michigan, Ohio... obviously, there's a "zone" that extends westward from Maine and we'll be in Inn country most of the time, including stops in Philly and New York later this month. We'll be heading deep into New England, so any of you fine Inn folks that want tickets to a show, don't hesitate to ask.
I'll try to keep you updated, but it's hard enough getting time to sit down and think about any of this, let alone write about it. Still, I figure I owe it to myself and you guys to chronicle this new adventurous phase of my life.
Rock n' roll
-Todd
It isn't that my life has been exceptionally interesting, quite the opposite. All spring I was finishing up at University, chasing after that pesky BA that's eluded me for nearly a decade.
And now that I have it... I don't really know what to do with my life. I still work at the store, I still play the occasional gig with Bry and Shelby, but all that... that's not a long-term plan. We can try to make the music thing work, believe me nothing would please me more, but all we can do is keep plugging along.
Sometimes Bry and I joke about going back to the Inn -- when Alia and Shel aren't around (since Shel wouldn't get it, and Alia woudn't hear of it,) -- and waking up in the as people who already have their lives laid out. That's the fantasy, that someone would tell us how to live and who to be. Isn't that pathetic? Well, the grass is always greener, because we already lived those lives, and we hated them.
But just when things were getting rough, and Bry was attempting to re-open contact with Ellie, this opportunity came up, not unlike the one that brought us to Maine to begin with. Our band -- the one that barely rehearses and didn't have a proper name -- was asked to fill in as an opening act for this local pop punk band that's touring the Northeast.
It seems like a pretty good deal, and it's been a lot of fun, but to make it worth our while we've had to book a few gigs of our own. We called up contacts, did exhaustive searches, and barely scrounged up enough gigs that we will have a reason to keep being out there until September.
The problem is, when people want to book you, they want a name to go along with it. This has been a point of contention between the three of us. Until last month, when Bry had a burst of inspiration. He chose something that meant a lot to both of us, as well as carrying meaning for people like Shelby who don't, and never will, know our true story.
Our new band name? Somebody Else.
I'm checking in quickly, because we hit the road for the border tomorrow morning. The tour's already passed through Southern Ontario, Mississauga, London, we just finished the Windsor show... we'll be swinging through Michigan, Ohio... obviously, there's a "zone" that extends westward from Maine and we'll be in Inn country most of the time, including stops in Philly and New York later this month. We'll be heading deep into New England, so any of you fine Inn folks that want tickets to a show, don't hesitate to ask.
I'll try to keep you updated, but it's hard enough getting time to sit down and think about any of this, let alone write about it. Still, I figure I owe it to myself and you guys to chronicle this new adventurous phase of my life.
Rock n' roll
-Todd
Greg/Alexis: Killing it with Kindness
Once upon a time I was engaged to be married to my soulmate and if I had never had my life stolen by a cursed Inn, I would today be just past my 1st Anniversary. I dont know what married life is supposed to be like, but Amber and I had been living together for a long time and I knew how to successfully cohabitate with someone that you love.
My current situation, while legally a marriage, is not at all one. I dont expect it to be. It's what I like to call a "marriage by magic". We're to strangers thrown together and told to play like we love each other. Thats a difficult thing to do and I dont blame Malinda for hating it. A commenter told me that I should try being nice to Malinda. Which is what I was going to do anyway because I've dealt with a situation like this before.
My freshman year at the University of Chicago I was assigned a roommate blindly. Turns out mine was a Japanese student named Tashiro, who spoke broken English when he spoke at all and was very cold to me for the first two months.
After a long cold war of silently hating each other, Me and Tosh bonded when I bought a new video game system. Turns out he was really into video games and we were both really competitive. After countless all nighters full of mountain dew and vodka we finally had something to unite us. Tash and I stayed friends throughout college and even emailed after he went back to Japan to work for Nintendo. Now all I need to do is find that common ground with Malinda.
Tash's animosity stemmed mostly from the culture shock of going from Japan to the American Midwest. I think Malinda is going through similar shock going from Bitchy Texan to Gay Artist. Finding common ground with Malinda is difficult thought because she treats me with uneasy precaution. Ever since she found out that I was born male, she thinks I'm on some mission to live out a male fantasy of having lesbian sex with her, so every nice thing I do to her she immediately thinks I'm hitting on her. So any gesture of bonding and kindness has to be done innocuously and totally platonic.
This means the obvious flowers, candy, clothes and makeup are out of the question, which sucks because all girls, even me, like those things. On Last Sunday I decided to to a barbecue, which is a Texas tradition I think. I was grilling the meat but whenever I asked for her help or suggestions she kinda blew me off. Didnt seem to impressed with the meat either.
On Wednesday I tried to do "movie night" where I would bring home some free ice cream and we'd sit in front of the tv in our pajamas and watch a crappy chick flick, something that worked quite well for female bonding when I was Priya. Turns out I underestimated Malinda and she apparently hates chick flicks.
On Friday I made a little progress, I convinced her to leave the house. I think she got tired of being cooped up inside the house was getting to her so we went to see a movie. Captain America isnt as terrible as it looks or sounds and apparently she likes the superhero genre. We talked about movies on the way there and even had a normal convo during the movie. Altough at some point I think she thought it was too much like a date and closed up again. We rode home in silence. Still, baby steps.
Im still exiled to the couch but I'm working on moving a cot or something to her studio that she isnt using. Hopefully I'll find some common ground for us
-Greg.
My current situation, while legally a marriage, is not at all one. I dont expect it to be. It's what I like to call a "marriage by magic". We're to strangers thrown together and told to play like we love each other. Thats a difficult thing to do and I dont blame Malinda for hating it. A commenter told me that I should try being nice to Malinda. Which is what I was going to do anyway because I've dealt with a situation like this before.
My freshman year at the University of Chicago I was assigned a roommate blindly. Turns out mine was a Japanese student named Tashiro, who spoke broken English when he spoke at all and was very cold to me for the first two months.
After a long cold war of silently hating each other, Me and Tosh bonded when I bought a new video game system. Turns out he was really into video games and we were both really competitive. After countless all nighters full of mountain dew and vodka we finally had something to unite us. Tash and I stayed friends throughout college and even emailed after he went back to Japan to work for Nintendo. Now all I need to do is find that common ground with Malinda.
Tash's animosity stemmed mostly from the culture shock of going from Japan to the American Midwest. I think Malinda is going through similar shock going from Bitchy Texan to Gay Artist. Finding common ground with Malinda is difficult thought because she treats me with uneasy precaution. Ever since she found out that I was born male, she thinks I'm on some mission to live out a male fantasy of having lesbian sex with her, so every nice thing I do to her she immediately thinks I'm hitting on her. So any gesture of bonding and kindness has to be done innocuously and totally platonic.
This means the obvious flowers, candy, clothes and makeup are out of the question, which sucks because all girls, even me, like those things. On Last Sunday I decided to to a barbecue, which is a Texas tradition I think. I was grilling the meat but whenever I asked for her help or suggestions she kinda blew me off. Didnt seem to impressed with the meat either.
On Wednesday I tried to do "movie night" where I would bring home some free ice cream and we'd sit in front of the tv in our pajamas and watch a crappy chick flick, something that worked quite well for female bonding when I was Priya. Turns out I underestimated Malinda and she apparently hates chick flicks.
On Friday I made a little progress, I convinced her to leave the house. I think she got tired of being cooped up inside the house was getting to her so we went to see a movie. Captain America isnt as terrible as it looks or sounds and apparently she likes the superhero genre. We talked about movies on the way there and even had a normal convo during the movie. Altough at some point I think she thought it was too much like a date and closed up again. We rode home in silence. Still, baby steps.
Im still exiled to the couch but I'm working on moving a cot or something to her studio that she isnt using. Hopefully I'll find some common ground for us
-Greg.
Sunday, July 24, 2011
Tori: First Date
Reality check: I've been a girl for two years now. When this started I was scared of my own body, but by now I've learned what feels good, how to treat it right, and most importantly how to dress it.
Or so I thought.
Let me tell you, it was an ordeal trying to figure out what to wear for my first date with Alex. Last week, Philly was right in the middle of a heatwave that made my hair frizz out to epic proportions and made me want to wear as little as possible. But I had already embarrassed myself by being too forward with him. I want to show him I'm not rushing things but I'm also, well... good to go.
"I say slut it up," Mae advised me. She was lying on my bed reading Reddit on her laptop. Mae has been staying with me all month. Mom and dad thought it would be good since it'll be like a vacation and I live closer to her summer job. She's staying in Raine's room right now, because Raine is house-sitting as she often does in the summer. Mae has been a good houseguest, because unlike whenw e lived together our schedules don't clash and every so often I let her drink.
In response, I flung one of my bras at her. She plucked it off her head and held it to her own chest. "Wear a push-up bra so he doesn't realize you have wee-boobs."
In the past year or so, Mae has become one of the few girls I know that could get away with describing my rather ample chest as "wee." No, the girls aren't huge, but I know if I was still a guy I'd be hypnotized, and plenty guys are. Hers, though, have gotten almost unwieldy. In fact, her "growing up" years have been pretty good to her. What I envy about her is that she's embraced her body-type, that she's good-looking without being sticklike and knows it. She's a bit cocky about it perhaps, but her confidence is healthy. If I had been able to choose which girl to be, I would probably rather have landed in her body.
But of course, I have to live with what nature -- or rather a cursed Inn -- gave me, and you know, I haven't gotten any complaints yet. It's a lot of work, though.
Sadly, all that fretting got me only to the point where I admitted simplicity was best. I put on a black miniskirt and a white tanktop with a light overshirt and prayed for no pitstains.
The date itself... was fine. I don't know. He arrived at my door and I wanted so badly for it to have a "big date" feel, but it was really just like going to hang out with a friend. We went and saw X-Men at my insistence since I'm way behind on my summer comic book movies. It was probably the best X-Men movie since the first one. He got his arm around my shoulder, which I liked, but I was so engrossed by the plot that I completely forgot to make out with him.
After that, the date started to get... weird. We were having trouble breaking out of our "friend" zone. I mean, we've hung out plenty, but we just couldn't shift from buddies to... well, more.
Drinks helped with that. We went to the bar and I ordered, instead of a girly drink or cocktail, just a beer. I don't love the taste of beer, so I had to pace myself so I wouldn't try to throw myself at him again.
It worked. We began to loosen up, share a bit more. Alex, as much as I feel safe opening up to him (as much as I ever open up to anyone who doesn't know my secret) is hard to crack open himself, but he let it slip about how he used to be really awkward on dates and deep down inside was still the kind of guy who didn't know why anyone would want to be with him.
Awwwww!
I did want to jump him then and there, but... again, self-control was key. I wriggled in my seat and decided to play coy for once in my life. I smiled. I laughed. I played with my hair and touched his arm.
Suddenly I looked in his eyes and I felt it. That spark we'd been missing. It's like I switched something on inside him.
Suddenly I realized I really was the one with the power. He was the one fumbling with his words and awkwardly trying to make jokes to impress me. And I've had that before, with Buddy, but this time, with the attraction I had for Alex, it was... it was something else. Guys, it was hot.
He drove me home, and walked me to the door. "We should call it a night," I said, "We've got work tomorrow."
I could feel the desire - I think - burning inside him. How hard it was for him to walk away. But it was all he could do to pull me in for a goodnight kiss.
I think I'm winning at dating.
I watched him walk back to his car, and drive off. I went up to my apartment and saw Mae there on the couch watching Insidious. "How was the date?" She asked with a mouth half-full of popcorn.
"Fine," I sighed. "I'm going to bed now."
And I went to bed, but it was a good long while before I went to sleep. A gooooood long while.
It's hard holding back, but totally worth it. I'm doing this right. This is good.
Or so I thought.
Let me tell you, it was an ordeal trying to figure out what to wear for my first date with Alex. Last week, Philly was right in the middle of a heatwave that made my hair frizz out to epic proportions and made me want to wear as little as possible. But I had already embarrassed myself by being too forward with him. I want to show him I'm not rushing things but I'm also, well... good to go.
"I say slut it up," Mae advised me. She was lying on my bed reading Reddit on her laptop. Mae has been staying with me all month. Mom and dad thought it would be good since it'll be like a vacation and I live closer to her summer job. She's staying in Raine's room right now, because Raine is house-sitting as she often does in the summer. Mae has been a good houseguest, because unlike whenw e lived together our schedules don't clash and every so often I let her drink.
In response, I flung one of my bras at her. She plucked it off her head and held it to her own chest. "Wear a push-up bra so he doesn't realize you have wee-boobs."
In the past year or so, Mae has become one of the few girls I know that could get away with describing my rather ample chest as "wee." No, the girls aren't huge, but I know if I was still a guy I'd be hypnotized, and plenty guys are. Hers, though, have gotten almost unwieldy. In fact, her "growing up" years have been pretty good to her. What I envy about her is that she's embraced her body-type, that she's good-looking without being sticklike and knows it. She's a bit cocky about it perhaps, but her confidence is healthy. If I had been able to choose which girl to be, I would probably rather have landed in her body.
But of course, I have to live with what nature -- or rather a cursed Inn -- gave me, and you know, I haven't gotten any complaints yet. It's a lot of work, though.
Sadly, all that fretting got me only to the point where I admitted simplicity was best. I put on a black miniskirt and a white tanktop with a light overshirt and prayed for no pitstains.
The date itself... was fine. I don't know. He arrived at my door and I wanted so badly for it to have a "big date" feel, but it was really just like going to hang out with a friend. We went and saw X-Men at my insistence since I'm way behind on my summer comic book movies. It was probably the best X-Men movie since the first one. He got his arm around my shoulder, which I liked, but I was so engrossed by the plot that I completely forgot to make out with him.
After that, the date started to get... weird. We were having trouble breaking out of our "friend" zone. I mean, we've hung out plenty, but we just couldn't shift from buddies to... well, more.
Drinks helped with that. We went to the bar and I ordered, instead of a girly drink or cocktail, just a beer. I don't love the taste of beer, so I had to pace myself so I wouldn't try to throw myself at him again.
It worked. We began to loosen up, share a bit more. Alex, as much as I feel safe opening up to him (as much as I ever open up to anyone who doesn't know my secret) is hard to crack open himself, but he let it slip about how he used to be really awkward on dates and deep down inside was still the kind of guy who didn't know why anyone would want to be with him.
Awwwww!
I did want to jump him then and there, but... again, self-control was key. I wriggled in my seat and decided to play coy for once in my life. I smiled. I laughed. I played with my hair and touched his arm.
Suddenly I looked in his eyes and I felt it. That spark we'd been missing. It's like I switched something on inside him.
Suddenly I realized I really was the one with the power. He was the one fumbling with his words and awkwardly trying to make jokes to impress me. And I've had that before, with Buddy, but this time, with the attraction I had for Alex, it was... it was something else. Guys, it was hot.
He drove me home, and walked me to the door. "We should call it a night," I said, "We've got work tomorrow."
I could feel the desire - I think - burning inside him. How hard it was for him to walk away. But it was all he could do to pull me in for a goodnight kiss.
I think I'm winning at dating.
I watched him walk back to his car, and drive off. I went up to my apartment and saw Mae there on the couch watching Insidious. "How was the date?" She asked with a mouth half-full of popcorn.
"Fine," I sighed. "I'm going to bed now."
And I went to bed, but it was a good long while before I went to sleep. A gooooood long while.
It's hard holding back, but totally worth it. I'm doing this right. This is good.
Saturday, July 23, 2011
Greg/Alexis: Have you tried turning it off and on again?
The other day I was struck by the realization that this is my 4th body in 4 years. 4. Im pretty sure thats a record on the Trading Post Inn blog, and probably in the top 10% of human beings all time. Changing into someone else is something that most humans would never and could never think about dealing with, and here it is basically my midsummer routine.
Ive gotten used to new wardrobes, new voices, new hairstyles and makeup patterns, new cars, new cities, new friends, and new tastes. I think though, the thing that I hate having to deal with each time is having to get used to a new job.
I really wish I couldve swapped into a rich person where I didnt have to work. I wish I couldve gotten off easy as Todd did when he was Anne Marie. I would love a year off, sitting around doing nothing. (Although from what I can tell, Todd did that before he was Anne Marie too). Malinda got off easy. Her job title is offically "artist". No kidding, that's what Sharon's tax returns say. She paints things and sells them locally. She isnt exactly successful but it seems to be her calling. I wouldve loved to be able to paint all day. Although any art I made would probably come out dark and strange considering all I've had to deal with in my life.
Anyway, back on point. Alexis' (Im gonna use her full name despite the fact that nobody else does because there's another Alex in another posters life) vacation time finally ran out and I had to go back into her job at McAllister Dairies.
M.D. (Not the real name by the way, but close. I dont want this blog appearing on the companies google hits) is not just an ice cream maker as I originally thought, although that is their best selling product. Apparently they also do cheese and milk etc. because apparently dairy and maple syrup are what keep Vermont afloat. Anyway, this is a dairy corporation, and its offices are headed in Burlington.
Alexis' official title is "Chair of Information Technology" because she is apparently a whiz with electronics. That is why I took as much vacation time as possible, because this job scared the heck out of me.
When I was Priya I was a teacher, and yeah that should be more scary than IT, it was only kindergartners and I had a couple months to practice. (and I did a bang up job, Priya tells me).
Dee's job was basically processing paperwork for a major state university. Not exactly high level thinking (which is why Dee did it I bet). I mastered that within a week.
But IT, I was not prepared to deal with all kinds of networking, software, and hardware issues that may arise with over 100 computers. I mean, Im a child of the 90s and came of age on the internet. Heck, I'm blogging. I'm computer literate, but not even close to as advanced as Alexis and her computer science degree. You should see her home computers, theyre amazing. Besides the expensive alienware laptop with a biometric thumprint lock she has a top of the line office computer and one of the coolest gaming computers I've ever seen.
Anyway, after reading as much as I could on the internet, I took the Range Rover into work. IT is a small office on the 4th floor with about 5 people including Alexis. They're all nice guys, and I say nice guys because they are all male. Dorks is the word to describe them but they are nice dorks, and clearly there is no sexual tension in the room. Apparently they are all aware of my orientation and totally cool with it, makes for a relaxed atmosphere.
The first day was a major relief. Turns out Alexis' job as IT Manager is mostly management. Any and all computer problems are delegated and assigned to one of the other workers and they take care of it. Its mostly records and payroll and reports. And since I managed a whole damn hotel in a previous life, 5 geniuses is a cakewalk.
Anyone British and or worldly enough to know where my post title comes from sees the parallels. "Have you tried turning it off and on again" is a catchphrase from and English comedy called "The IT crowd" which is about a woman who knows nothing about computers who manages her lovably nerdy friends in the IT department. My life is not nearly as comical as hers but its nice to know that I'll be able to BS my way to a paycheck and not have to deal with living on the street.
On the whole Malinda front. I'm still exiled to the couch, and I say that not because I wanna sleep in the same bed as her, because I dont. Sharon's body is gorgeous but Malinda is on my nerves so much that the attraction is nullified. I'd at least like 3 days of the week though.
She's stopped randomly crying, at least from what I've seen. She doesnt paint though, so she spends most of her day watching TV and spying on her old life via Facebook. The place is pretty dirty though because she DOESNT clean. I dont know if she was dirty before, had a maid, or just doesnt care in this life, but I dont know if I can work 40 hours a week plus pick up after her.
I'll giver her a little more time to get over it though. Ive got enough to worry about without starting a confrontation.
-GregAlexis
Ive gotten used to new wardrobes, new voices, new hairstyles and makeup patterns, new cars, new cities, new friends, and new tastes. I think though, the thing that I hate having to deal with each time is having to get used to a new job.
I really wish I couldve swapped into a rich person where I didnt have to work. I wish I couldve gotten off easy as Todd did when he was Anne Marie. I would love a year off, sitting around doing nothing. (Although from what I can tell, Todd did that before he was Anne Marie too). Malinda got off easy. Her job title is offically "artist". No kidding, that's what Sharon's tax returns say. She paints things and sells them locally. She isnt exactly successful but it seems to be her calling. I wouldve loved to be able to paint all day. Although any art I made would probably come out dark and strange considering all I've had to deal with in my life.
Anyway, back on point. Alexis' (Im gonna use her full name despite the fact that nobody else does because there's another Alex in another posters life) vacation time finally ran out and I had to go back into her job at McAllister Dairies.
M.D. (Not the real name by the way, but close. I dont want this blog appearing on the companies google hits) is not just an ice cream maker as I originally thought, although that is their best selling product. Apparently they also do cheese and milk etc. because apparently dairy and maple syrup are what keep Vermont afloat. Anyway, this is a dairy corporation, and its offices are headed in Burlington.
Alexis' official title is "Chair of Information Technology" because she is apparently a whiz with electronics. That is why I took as much vacation time as possible, because this job scared the heck out of me.
When I was Priya I was a teacher, and yeah that should be more scary than IT, it was only kindergartners and I had a couple months to practice. (and I did a bang up job, Priya tells me).
Dee's job was basically processing paperwork for a major state university. Not exactly high level thinking (which is why Dee did it I bet). I mastered that within a week.
But IT, I was not prepared to deal with all kinds of networking, software, and hardware issues that may arise with over 100 computers. I mean, Im a child of the 90s and came of age on the internet. Heck, I'm blogging. I'm computer literate, but not even close to as advanced as Alexis and her computer science degree. You should see her home computers, theyre amazing. Besides the expensive alienware laptop with a biometric thumprint lock she has a top of the line office computer and one of the coolest gaming computers I've ever seen.
Anyway, after reading as much as I could on the internet, I took the Range Rover into work. IT is a small office on the 4th floor with about 5 people including Alexis. They're all nice guys, and I say nice guys because they are all male. Dorks is the word to describe them but they are nice dorks, and clearly there is no sexual tension in the room. Apparently they are all aware of my orientation and totally cool with it, makes for a relaxed atmosphere.
The first day was a major relief. Turns out Alexis' job as IT Manager is mostly management. Any and all computer problems are delegated and assigned to one of the other workers and they take care of it. Its mostly records and payroll and reports. And since I managed a whole damn hotel in a previous life, 5 geniuses is a cakewalk.
Anyone British and or worldly enough to know where my post title comes from sees the parallels. "Have you tried turning it off and on again" is a catchphrase from and English comedy called "The IT crowd" which is about a woman who knows nothing about computers who manages her lovably nerdy friends in the IT department. My life is not nearly as comical as hers but its nice to know that I'll be able to BS my way to a paycheck and not have to deal with living on the street.
On the whole Malinda front. I'm still exiled to the couch, and I say that not because I wanna sleep in the same bed as her, because I dont. Sharon's body is gorgeous but Malinda is on my nerves so much that the attraction is nullified. I'd at least like 3 days of the week though.
She's stopped randomly crying, at least from what I've seen. She doesnt paint though, so she spends most of her day watching TV and spying on her old life via Facebook. The place is pretty dirty though because she DOESNT clean. I dont know if she was dirty before, had a maid, or just doesnt care in this life, but I dont know if I can work 40 hours a week plus pick up after her.
I'll giver her a little more time to get over it though. Ive got enough to worry about without starting a confrontation.
-GregAlexis
Monday, July 18, 2011
Tori: Go For It
I spent a few weeks being more confused about Alex (my Alex, not Greg's now body, obviously!) What was clear was that I was into him. What wasn't clear was what steps to take.
I've never been in this situation since being in this body. It's not hard for me to get guys' attention, and usually it was unwanted, but it was there when I needed it. I'd be lying if I didn't say my attraction to Alex was part of my decision to end things with Buddy. I thought I caught a hint of it here and there but since I broke up with Buddy, he's been pretty distant and I don't know what to make of it. I don't know if "reading guys" is something they teach girls in school, or if they're normally this baffled. I used to think we were pretty straightforward, but I don't know what to do.
I tried to keep things "business as usual" but interacting with him on a regular basis was getting painful. Whenever he would crack a joke, I'd try to laugh extra hard, and if a girl passed and he turned his head even slightly my chest would heat up with jealousy.
I was folding laundry Monday night, and I just... lost it. What am I doing here? Why am I living this life, wearing panties and having boobs and painting my nails, if I'm just going to sit around not getting what I want? I'm not just John Clifford with a pussy.
So I formulated a plan to drag Alex out to a club. I hate those places, but it's a good place to just get drunk and let yourself go. In general I don't dance, but I decided to wedge my tits into a nice tight dress and dragged him out for the night.
The plan... and I'm not proud of this... was basically just to get drunk and throw myself at him. But the more physically aggressive I got, the more he backed off. By the end of the night, I was feeling frustrated. I wondered if I had just messed up the entire situation. Not only that, but I had really made an ass of myself, pretty much making my attraction to him too obvious to ignore. I woke up the next morning feeling like a total asshole.
For a little while after that, I tried ignoring Alex altogether, but he came and broke the ice.
"So listen..."
"Look, you don't need to say anything. I'm an idiot. I shouldn't be so reckless with my friends. I hope I didn't embarrass you too much."
He chuckled, "You didn't. Not too much. I mean, I could've done with less groping." Oh man, did I grope the hell out of him. "But Tori, we're friends, so a little craziness is allowed."
I felt my throat get thick and my chest heat up again. "Friends," I repeated the word. "Look, Alex, I don't know what you're thinking, but I might as well tell you..." I began to tremble, I had to stick my hands in my pockets and slouch over like I was a teenage boy.
"This is embarrassing. That was my really sick way of trying to tell you I... like you."
Ugh, God, I felt like such an idiot. Very high school. Junior high, even.
He briefly seemed like he was taken off he guard, but quickly composed himself like he had been expecting this. "Yeah. I kinda figured. And I mean, Tori, you're great." Wince. "I love spending time with you." Teeth clench. "But I know you just got out of a serious relationship and I'd hate to think you're just jumping into something because it's convenient."
My feelings of fear and hurt were suddenly replaced with a need to defend myself. "Relationship? Buddy? That was... not as serious as you'd think," I kinda lied, but it was definitely problematic. "Alex, I've spent a lot of time by myself. I know what I want. I'm not rebounding. I actually... I mean, part of the reason I broke up with him was because I didn't want to leave you, because I... I'd like to be with you, okay?"
"You're sure about this?"
"Absolutely." I gulped. Part of me still worries this is a huge mistake.
"Let me think about it," he said.
The weekend passed, and I still hadn't heart from him. It was agonizing. I just kept freaking out and trying to reassure myself, preparing arguments if he came back saying we should just be friends... that if this was our friendship I was prepared to end it because I know I couldn't keep going. I don't know, it seemed drastic, but I was worried something drastic would be necessary.
Then today, while I'm at work, he texts me (from elsewhere at work) "So... dinner Thursday night?"
ASDFGHJGGG UNFF YES please.
I've never been this excited for a guy. Buddy took me a while to warm up to, and Leo was just a business arrangement. This one... I don't know, there's something special about him.
I've never been in this situation since being in this body. It's not hard for me to get guys' attention, and usually it was unwanted, but it was there when I needed it. I'd be lying if I didn't say my attraction to Alex was part of my decision to end things with Buddy. I thought I caught a hint of it here and there but since I broke up with Buddy, he's been pretty distant and I don't know what to make of it. I don't know if "reading guys" is something they teach girls in school, or if they're normally this baffled. I used to think we were pretty straightforward, but I don't know what to do.
I tried to keep things "business as usual" but interacting with him on a regular basis was getting painful. Whenever he would crack a joke, I'd try to laugh extra hard, and if a girl passed and he turned his head even slightly my chest would heat up with jealousy.
I was folding laundry Monday night, and I just... lost it. What am I doing here? Why am I living this life, wearing panties and having boobs and painting my nails, if I'm just going to sit around not getting what I want? I'm not just John Clifford with a pussy.
So I formulated a plan to drag Alex out to a club. I hate those places, but it's a good place to just get drunk and let yourself go. In general I don't dance, but I decided to wedge my tits into a nice tight dress and dragged him out for the night.
The plan... and I'm not proud of this... was basically just to get drunk and throw myself at him. But the more physically aggressive I got, the more he backed off. By the end of the night, I was feeling frustrated. I wondered if I had just messed up the entire situation. Not only that, but I had really made an ass of myself, pretty much making my attraction to him too obvious to ignore. I woke up the next morning feeling like a total asshole.
For a little while after that, I tried ignoring Alex altogether, but he came and broke the ice.
"So listen..."
"Look, you don't need to say anything. I'm an idiot. I shouldn't be so reckless with my friends. I hope I didn't embarrass you too much."
He chuckled, "You didn't. Not too much. I mean, I could've done with less groping." Oh man, did I grope the hell out of him. "But Tori, we're friends, so a little craziness is allowed."
I felt my throat get thick and my chest heat up again. "Friends," I repeated the word. "Look, Alex, I don't know what you're thinking, but I might as well tell you..." I began to tremble, I had to stick my hands in my pockets and slouch over like I was a teenage boy.
"This is embarrassing. That was my really sick way of trying to tell you I... like you."
Ugh, God, I felt like such an idiot. Very high school. Junior high, even.
He briefly seemed like he was taken off he guard, but quickly composed himself like he had been expecting this. "Yeah. I kinda figured. And I mean, Tori, you're great." Wince. "I love spending time with you." Teeth clench. "But I know you just got out of a serious relationship and I'd hate to think you're just jumping into something because it's convenient."
My feelings of fear and hurt were suddenly replaced with a need to defend myself. "Relationship? Buddy? That was... not as serious as you'd think," I kinda lied, but it was definitely problematic. "Alex, I've spent a lot of time by myself. I know what I want. I'm not rebounding. I actually... I mean, part of the reason I broke up with him was because I didn't want to leave you, because I... I'd like to be with you, okay?"
"You're sure about this?"
"Absolutely." I gulped. Part of me still worries this is a huge mistake.
"Let me think about it," he said.
The weekend passed, and I still hadn't heart from him. It was agonizing. I just kept freaking out and trying to reassure myself, preparing arguments if he came back saying we should just be friends... that if this was our friendship I was prepared to end it because I know I couldn't keep going. I don't know, it seemed drastic, but I was worried something drastic would be necessary.
Then today, while I'm at work, he texts me (from elsewhere at work) "So... dinner Thursday night?"
ASDFGHJGGG UNFF YES please.
I've never been this excited for a guy. Buddy took me a while to warm up to, and Leo was just a business arrangement. This one... I don't know, there's something special about him.
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