Tori: Bad day.

Did you ever have one of those days you just knew was going to suck? You stub your toe getting out of bed, you get shampoo in your eyes, you feel fat, your coffee tastes like rust... and before anything's really happened you've made up your mind to hate that day?

I have to be careful when I have a day like yesterday. I work with a bunch of guys and if I show up to work in a huff or seeming short-tempered, I know what they'll say... they'll think it's because of PMS or hormones or whatever they think goes on in a woman's body. I can't just be upset for normal reasons, but today, after the hot water ran out in my apartment and my boyfriend was late to pick me up, I was starting to get a bit edgy.

But I was keeping calm and rational right up until I got summoned to the boss's office. See, Alex and I work for a small shipping company that handles mainly the Philly area. He oversees IT, I handle the warehouse database, overseeing all the comings and goings, basically ensuring everything winds up where it's supposed to. It's actually a lot of headaches for not a ton of pay, but I'm good at it and it sits neatly with my skill set. It's all part and parcel of the comfortable little life I've built for myself.

Last month, we learned the company was merging with a national chain. We were told this was not a big deal, that it was a management issue and they didn't acquire a whole company just to gut its staff. We were comforted by this, so I didn't think it was a big deal when the boss called me in.

He admitted that although they had said no big changes were on deck, a few key staff positions were being eliminated due to redundancy: specifically mine. The new boss' people were overtaking my duties after this month. He was really apologetic, saying he didn't realize this aspect of the deal affected me, and explained how pleased he was with the work I'd done and will gladly provide a reference and so forth. But I still felt like total crap.

I got home and I was in such a huff. Alex was trying to talk me down a bit, saying "At least they gave you this much notice, at least it's good terms" and blah blah blah. I don't want to downplay that they're doing it in a pretty nice way, but it feels crappy. And when I was ranting to him about it, I might have said more than I meant to... what I said was "I thought I was done getting my life jerked around by random forces."

That comment probably confused Alex... I guess I never realized how much I tied my life since the Inn with some problems I had before I became Tori, how I always felt like my life was defined by the actions of others and so much bad stuff happened to me because of chance rather than me doing anything. I've always felt sort of antsy about how much of my life wasn't decided by me, up to and including transforming into a girl. Having my job eliminated by someone who's never met me definitely counts. But Alex has never seen this, as far as he knows I'm not someone who blames the forces of he universe for all my problems.

I scrambled to explain to him that, (and this is at least part of it,) when I was with Buddy, I felt like our relationship hinged on factors beyond our control, as well as my tendency to go from job to job based on what was available (also true.) I don't think this was quite satisfactory to him, but it ended the discussion. I wasn't in much of a mood to do anything for the rest of the night. I stayed up editing my resume, drafting a cover letter, looking for job leads. After all the shit that I went through to get this job... I nearly moved to Houston for a job! ... I'm not looking forward to going through it again.

Tonight's St. Patty's day, though, so I feel like I should put on a good face. I've still got friends, I've still got a life to run. I'll put on the green top and get wasted and forget my problems.

Zane Clara: Can't sleep

That's a new thing. Usually I'm Mr. Sleepy but some stuff happened today that's got me all wound up. I thought about taking an ambien but I'm really weary about how many pills I put in my body.

Yesterday, Anthony told me about this job that came in for me... it's a one-day shoot but it's as much as I've ever made in a month. This guy runs a website "Girls at Home" or something, where he gets girls to hang around their houses in lingerie, doing sexy poses and talking about themselves. It sounds like an easy paycheck except for the part where it's basically stripping.

I've been Clara for six or seven months. I've done a lot of her modeling jobs, but mostly they're ad campaigns or catalogs. She's got a good frame, so it's ideal to put clothes on to show how good they look. All I have to do is stand around with my hand on my hip and my head slightly tilted. I'm like Zoolander. But with tits.

But this... this is big. Like I say, it pays a shitload, just to look hot and give the guy some blurbs for his readers. And it gets the name out there. If I was really Clara... really doing this modelling job for myself... it would be a no-brainer.

But I can't do it. I got up this morning, put on a fresh pair of panties, and just stood there looking at my tits in the mirror. Guys would love to see em but I'm sick of looking at them. I'm sick of feeling them hanging down, sick of feeling the underwire of a bra on my ribs and the straps on my shoulders. Sick of accidentally rolling onto them in my sleep. When I was a guy I loved tits so much, but... I can't do anything knowing a guy;s gonna be pulling his pork to it. That's not me.

The problem is, I don't have any money. Like, at all. I told Anthony I'd take this modeling thing seriously so I could pay for Clara's meds, but I nearly had a freak out when I was told about this.

Even worse would be the idea of talking about myself. What the fuck would I say? "I'm actually a guy in a woman's body, and I got my period for the first time three months ago and it grossed me out so much I nearly threw up. I bled all over myself and had to work the rest of the day like that."

Then I had a date with Wes tonight. I wasn't calling them dates, but that's what they really are. A way of getting out and eating for free and pretending like I really like the guy. Except I do like the guy, and I feel bad he's putting up with me because he thinks I'll put out. But here's what happened, what's really got me freaked out.

I asked him why. I reminded him that I wasn't his girlfriend and he could have any girl he wanted. He said that wasn't true (the part about him getting any girl) but I told him that if even I thought he was handsome, he was clearly a good-looking dude.

So he admitted... wealth and good looks are pretty much the easiest ways to a woman's pants. But I guess all those women throwing themselves at him gets boring because he said he never met a woman who just wanted to sit and talk. Someone who was real, which is really rare out here.

Until me. Which is fucking hilarious. Apparently he likes me because I'm not playing games and not pretending... I told him I wasn't interested in his money or his cock and that made him pay attention. He wanted to know more about me, but I seem to have something inside I'm holding back (yeah, no shit.) How I ask him questions about his life like I'm really interested. I never realized, I thought I was just being polite.

He says to me it doesn't make sense to him why I model. How I seem so humble and self-conscious about my looks and so desperate for people not to pay attention to me. He says when he looks in my eyes, he sees something buried deep down, something sad I haven't talked about, and that must be the source of my "realness." But also how he catches glimpses... I dunno when, but he told me... glimpses of desire. That every so often I look at him like I want to jump all over him.

I was startled. Except for wanting to jump him, it sounded pretty spot-on. I told him I kinda fell into modeling by accident and it was the last thing I ever wanted to do, but I did because the offers kept coming in and the money was good. I told him I had certain needs. Bills to pay.

"You kill me," he said, laughing a bit. "You come out with me every Saturday night for a month. We talk, we drink, we have fun. You barely tell me anything about yourself and when you do, it's this money business. And you forget... I'm rich. You are looking at... eating dinner with... playing footsie with a very wealthy guy."

I wasn't playing footsie. My leg was twitching from nerves.

He says "I could do so much for you, Clara. It wouldn't be a hand-out, it wouldn't be charity, because I give money freely to people I care about. But I need to know... do you care about me?"

I couldn't say no. Maybe it was the wine but all I could mutter was "You're my... friend."

"Friend?" He said back. Then he stood up, straightened out his jacket, and walked over to my side of the table. He bent over, got right in my face, nose to nose... and kissed me.

I was gonna push him away, but I just let him do it because I wanted to see where it was going. It was a close-mouthed kiss, lips to lips, no tongue. Maybe three seconds.

When he pulled away from me, he put his hands on mine, then reached into his breast pocket for his checkbook. "This is $500. No strings attached, but if you want more, we're going to have to work out why you keep coming to see me. I understand you're a complicated person, but it doesn't have to be hard. I like you a lot, Clara. Shall I take you home?"

"...yes..." I could only say.

On the ride home I was silent. I had a check for $500 in my purse. That was my share of the rent and then some. I thought about modeling and Anthony banging Blake and me playing with myself, and how I didn't want to throw up just because a guy kissed me.

I kept a lid on things until I got home. Then I walked slowly to my room, threw myself on my bed, and started to cry. Just because I'm on the meds doesn't mean things like this can't freak me out beyond words.

Now here I am. I really don't know what to do. I wish I could just sleep until summer.

Tori: Taking stock

I've been Tori for two and a half years now. I'm a sore girl. My left ankle and knee get pained sometimes from the fact that I still occasionally roll it when I wear heels. My wrists and fingers hurt more as a woman than they ever did as a man from typing. I threw out my shoulder one time from a particularly enthusiastic lovemaking session. Sometimes I wake up with a backache from the heft of my boobs, and when I get my period my breasts get really tender and sore, along with the usual cramping pain. Every so often I notice myself gaining a little pooch belly, compared to the flat tummy I had when I first became a she, when I'm not careful what I eat or when I neglect the gym. I'm still growing out my hair from when I cut it off last year, because even though it was low maintenance, I prefer it long.

I'm saying all this not to complain about my body, but because I love it. This body has changed a bit since I got it, and I've changed with it. And I'm not the only one. My little sister, Mae, was a cynical, introverted teenager who was resentful of her big sis and suspicious of everyone else. Now she's a beautiful, capable young woman who trusts me enough to confide things she can't tell our parents. I've moved in with my best friend, Raine, and seen my other, Sara, get engaged... to a guy she started dating when I first got here!

The biggest change happened just before Christmas. Well, that's not when it "happened," but it's when I found out about it. That was when my big brother Kenny, and his wife Jana (hey, I was a bridesmaid at their wedding!) announced they are three months pregnant. I'm going to be Aunt Tori.

I'm amazed. I'm thrilled. I'm gonna be such a cool aunt. It's incredible to see these people maturing before my eyes, a life I was dropped into almost at random and hit the ground running.

And then there's me... shedding so much of my old life wouldn't have been easy if I didn't feel like I fit so well in this one. And it didn't always fit and there was a time, I'll always remember, there was a time when I wanted nothing more than to go back, and now there's nothing I'd want less. I'm comfortable. I see everyone I know getting on with their lives, and for a second I think there's more I could be doing, but I remember that secretly, unbeknownst to everyone in my life, I have built an entire life in three short years. I'm proud of myself. I'm also proud that I found someone like Alex.

Alex, oh, Alex. I told you I love him. I never expected, even if I could "put up with" being in a relationship with a man, that I'd fall this far, but he's exactly who I want to be with. More than being smart and funny, he seems to "get" me... as much as I can be "gotten." He knows not to push things I don't want to talk about. He goes along with my sometimes inexplicable moods. I never thought this as a guy, but there are people who truly see us for what we are.

Geez, I just read over this whole thing and it sounds so cheezy. Seriously, this is why I don't post much anymore. It's wonderfully domestic, but it doesn't make for exciting reading.

Ellie: The female Ferris Bueller

I took today off from school. "Dad" will probably be mad at me but I know he doesn't have any real power. "Mom" is really forgiving, always going on about how it's best for me not to exert myself. I know it's probably a good idea for people Ellie's age to stay in school but I can't bring myself to do it. I can't face those freaking people and I can't pretend I'm even trying to keep up with schoolwork.

I try not to overdo it, but every so often I feel the need to slag off and spend a day roaming the house in my PJ's, eating ice cream for lunch and watching The Wire on DVD.

I met up with Emily for coffee on Saturday. It sucked. She's dating some guy who totally is in love with her. She doesn't see anything wrong with stringing him along. The whole back-to-high school concept washes better with her than it did for me, I guess since I never really went. It's shown me an uglier side of her, because I see her connecting with the vapid bimbos at school and I just think "What's the point?" I thought she had more character.

We talked about the Inn and whether we'd be going back. I said I was completely certain at this point that if I could get back, I would, whether we ever find the real Ellie and Emily or not. Emily was squirming. "Maybe we should just let it be, we can't find them for a reason, it's not very practical, etc etc."

This put me in a bad mood for my first Saturday night study session with my new tutor, Iris. That's right, Saturday night, cracking the books, with some strange girl in my room.

I hate to be judgmental, but Ellie must've left me some kinda residual "mean girl" genes, because when I first saw her at my door I thought she looked like a wreck. Visually, she's not the queen of high school, you can tell. She's a skinny little nothing, with matted blonde hair and loose clothes, thick glasses and acne. Okay, 90% of the people I've met since I've been here have been acne-prone teenagers, but this girl seemed to have a bad case.

I hate that I'm telling you this. I hate that I think that reflects on her as a person. I think it's given her some aggression because she took it out on me hard when I simply could not "get" the math she was helping me with. At first she seemed pleasant, instructing me on the algebraic formula and order of operations and stuff, but the more questions I asked, the more exhausted she seemed and the more I wanted to tell her "Hey, shut the fuck up, I didn't ask to learn math after all this time of being on my own!" I felt a panic attack coming on, but luckily she called it a night early. I think she doesn't like me. Or she doesn't like the person she thinks I am. I'm not sure what I think about her.

It's almost a lost cause, this math stuff. If I made it this far without using it, I doubt I'll need it wherever I end up. Ellie's doomed to stay in high school at least another year even though she should be graduating. Me trying to learn math, that feels like rearranging deck chairs on the Titanic. Unfortunately, that's the one point "Dad" has managed to win over mom, that their little girl needs to at least graduate high school.

Wherever the real Ellie is, I hope it's better than high school.

Zane Clara: Side effects

A few months ago I almost burned down the house. I left some food on the stove and went back to my room to wait and I ended up falling asleep. I woke up to the sound of the smoke alarm. When I went to see what it was, I saw one of my housemates running the tap over the pan in the sink while another one was clearing the smoke away with a dishrag. They gave me an angry lecture about being irresponsible.

This was before I got on the pills. What I didn't tell them at the time was that I didn't go to my room to fall asleep. I was wide awake and playing with myself.

I didn't admit it to you guys because I didn't want you to think I liked being a girl just because I could touch my own pussy. I know there's people that read this blog that think I should probably feel better about my situation, and I agree that the depression and anxiety has made it hard for me to deal with that. I just felt like it was something I should hide. Besides, in my normal life I would probably not tell everyone how often I jacked off.

It was my coping mechanism. Whenever I felt unhappy because I didn't wanna leave my room and didn't wanna eat, I'd go to the bedroom (or the bath, or the living room later if everyone was out) and strip off. I'd start fondling my tits until I felt a little spark downstairs. I could go for an insane amount of time just rubbing and rubbing, usually over top of the panties. I never came though. Maybe it's because I never put anything inside me because the idea of that scares the fuck out of me. I don't even want to like rubbing myself, but I do... or I did anyway.

Once I got on the pills I didn't want to do it anymore. I haven't really touched myself there since December, except when I have to. Whenever I think maybe I could do it, I remember how long I spent and never really finished and it just doesn't feel like a good idea.

I'm telling you all this because something weird is going on with my life. I was talking to Wes, the rich guy who picked me up at the gala, a lot. I like hanging out with him because he's smart and knows a lot about the world and he's funny, and I don't have to do a lot of talking when he's around. Then last night, I got this weird vibe off him... like he was hitting on me. Mostly he acted like his normal self, but on our way out of the restaurant he opened the door for me and gave me this look like "You know what I'm thinking."

I didn't hate it. I didn't want to punch him, like I do most guys. I know he's a good dude. But it still bothered me. Like we can't just be friends, he has to want to have sex with me.

I keep thinking about him. What if I was a guy and he was a girl, someone who looked like me. And he was smart and funny and willing to put up with my craziness, but he was the one with the tits. Well, he'd be too good for me.

I feel bad for him. I want him to date someone else, anyone. It definately wouldn't be hard for him. I want him to be happy, but not with me.

Greg/Alexis: On Thicker Ice

So things at home have become a bit of a ceasefire. Partly due to the real Sharon's intervention, partly due to the fact that I haven't really been hanging out there much lately. Work's been pretty slow so I've had a lot more time to hang out around town and enjoy Burlington. That was the whole purpose of becoming a "Traveller", to go new places and to meet new people. So even though it's been extremely cold the last week or so I've seen a lot of fun stuff.

Part of this has been renewing the friendship between myself and Annabelle. Annabelle is one of Alexis' best friends in real life, but the past few months she's been a bit neglected while I tried to keep Malinda in line. Nonetheless she understood, and said she could sense some sort of tension between us and it was important to work on our marriage.

I can see why she and and Alex are friends. Sharon and Alexis may be in love but they are total opposites. They do a lot of date stuff together but have pretty different interests. I dont wanna say Alex has "manly" tastes but theyre definitely not stereotypically femme. So its good for her to have friends outside of her marriage where she can talk hockey, politics, and beer appreciation, two of which I happen to like and Annabelle is an expert on.

We were hanging out on Friday because I was getting a haircut and I wanted her opinion. Not just because she's more familiar with the city but because I want hair like hers. Long hair is one of the more irritating things about being a girl to me. You cant just walk out of the house like you can as a guy, you either have to brush, wash, or put it up otherwise you look like a crazy cat lady. So after Sharon told me that Alex normally wore hers very short, I saw no reason not to get it cut.

The Salon we went to was gay friendly. Thats something ive noticed about this life, is that the gay community has certain places that they like to patronize because of a friendly atmosphere. I think that stems from the past, when public prejudice was more common and there was real danger with being gay. So while this wanst a "gays only" salon, it did have copies of The Advocate on the coffee table.

Annabelle wanted me to get a mohawk,because my hair was long enough to spike pretty high and then I reminded her that I worked in an office. The stylist then suggested a fauxhawk, to which I told him I didnt wanna look like a Jersey Shore person. We finally decided on a short yet still feminine cut. I'm sitting here typing with a nice short 2 inches of hair that's easy to manage. Annabelle called it perfectly butch, saying so in a proud way rather than derisive.

We left to get a cup of coffee and as we were walking she asked what time we should meet tomorrow night. Not having heard of previous plans I asked what she was talking about.

"The reunion...I assume that's why you got your haircut?"

I gave her a look like I didnt know what she was talking about.

"The team reunion...at the Ice arena. The one we do annually. The one we send out emails about."

I dont check Alex's emails regularly. Seems like the real Alex hasnt been either lately. Apparently Alex was a hockey player in college and they had won a league title or something. While it wasnt exactly big time on the national stage it was a pretty big deal in terms of women's hockey in Vermont. And every year the team comes back for a reunion and gets a round of applause at the game. Some of the players couldnt make it, having moved away or gotten on with their lives but I didn't really have an excuse, living in town still. So I went.

I got lost on UVM's campus, which is understandable because it was the first time I'd ever actually been there, but I found the ice arena. There wasnt much of a crowd, late Saturday night in a college town and hockey wasnt a high priority, still there were some die hards and a few parents.

I found Alex's former teammates easily, they were all wearing old jerseys. I had found Alex's old #12 with "Barco" on the back in the close in a dry cleaning bag. Kinda dorky that she still kept it but fond memories I guess.

Once I was spotted I was greeted with the usual squeals and hugs that occur when women see each other for the first time in a long time. After a few pleasantries and being introduced to various husbands and children I found Annabelle. She looked around "Where's Sharon? She usually comes to these things for you"

"She had to work" I lied quickly and badly

"She's an artist" Annabelle said confused

"Inspiration struck" I said with a shrug.

Hockey was never my favorite sport and I'm not a good enough ice skater to play it, but I'll watch the Blackhawks when theyre on so I wasnt completely lost watching. At the first intermission we all went to center ice and had a picture taken and all our names we're called and there was a lot of waving and smiling before heading back to our seats. All in all pretty easy and a little fun to get credit for winning something.

After the game Annabelle and I were walking to our cars and she asked me if things were ok between me and "Sharon"

"Yeah, theyre fine, why do you ask?"

"Its just that I hardly see her anymore, and you dont talk about her like you used to. Since college you'd always give me the details of your relationship and now its like talking to someone who isn't even married"

Insightful girl "Well, we have hit a bit of a rough patch, but we are working through it"

"I hope so" she said "Sometimes you seem a bit down about it, I hope you dont get hurt"

She walked to her car but not before giving me a hug that was a little tighter and a little longer than usual.

Zane Clara: The real me?

It's Saturday afternoon and I got a lot on my mind. Usually I'm working at the snack bar or doing a photoshoot. This is the first time in a while I've got an afternoon to myself. I'm just sitting in my room on the computer and I realized I could blog something.

I like doing Clara's jobs. Even the modelling, is that weird? I didn't used to like dressing in womens clothes at all but they're not all that uncomfortable and I don't have to go around in them. I just have to stand around looking hot, which is tough since it's like "smile but don't smile, stand up straight" and every photog has his own ideas about what he or she wants from a model. Sometimes I have to pretend to be in a couple, that's always awkward. Mainly it's stock photo work so you might see me on the internet randomly.

The snack bar can be annoying, but it gives me a chance to go out dressed like a normal person without makeup or fancy clothes. Then even when I don't put any work in, guys wanna talk to me and I just play along. I get asked for my number a lot, and I always turn them down. I tell them I don't have a phone and they should give me their number. The problem is they know where I work so guys come by to see why I haven't called them yet and keep asking me out and I just go "no I'm busy." I think they think they can wear me down and I don't know how to stop it. I'm worried one day I'm gonna say yes to one of them and it's gonna be the wrong guy and he's gonna kill me or something. That's why I don't go out a lot.

I don't get depressed anymore, though. The pills are working. I don't sit around being sad and crying my fucking eyes out because I have to sit to pee or because some stupid wardrobe person told me my tits were too big... which is fucked up because this isn't even my body and it bothers me that it even bothers me which makes me even more sad.

No, instead I just relax. I try to enjoy things. I've been a chick for six months or something and things haven't gotten any better or worse, so now that I can see some stability, I guess the I'm evening out. It kinda sucks you guys never got to know the real me, the one that wasn't always freaked out or depressed. I didn't used to whine all the time I think.

But they told me I'd still have triggers. I don't know exactly how this transformation has changed my brain. Things that bother me bother me a LOT. So when Anthony told me he was fucking that Blake guy, I went nuts inside. I started crying, I wanted to hurl. I took it really personal because I thought, if we're still guys inside, how could you let a guy do that to you. I still get grossed out when guys look at me the wrong way, and just because I'm on pills and I'm okay with wearing makeup doesn't mean I think the idea of fucking a guy is awesome.

He gave all his reasons for doing it, and I just didn't care. The idea of him inside that body getting his pussy fucked made me sick. I didn't wanna talk to him for a while.

Then one morning I was taking my pill and I was thinking about how fucked up it was that I never needed pills before I was Clara, but because I have her body I have her brains too. And then it hit me... that's true for Anth too. It's like... he didn't decide to let a guy fuck him any more than I decided to be depressed. These bodies control us in really fucked up ways we can't even understand.

So I dunno. I guess it's okay for him to do that. I'm still not into it, but whatever. That's his business. We'll just forget it happened when we're back in our real bodies.

Tori: No. Just no.

I'm really flattered you guys haven't forgotten about me. Every so often I read a comment asking about me and it makes me want to write a big post updating you on my life. But the sad truth is there was not a lot to update you on. Working, dating, living, being me... I felt for a while it was nice to step back and stop using this blog to explain to myself that it was okay to be okay with my life, that nothing about it was new anymore and it was good to get comfy and go along with the ride. I said it was the sad truth, but it's also the awesome truth. I've gotten to a place I've never felt in either of my lives.

Alex-- that is my boyfriend Alex, not Greg's current body -- is exactly what I've needed in my life. He's really stable. After a long settling-in period, we got really comfortable with each other, learned each other's needs and wants and now we're jsut so... I don't wanna say perfect, but like I said, stable. It's just so awesome to have someone to throw my arms around at night.

I realized over the Holidays that I love him. We were having dinner with my family, and I don't know, he was just kidding around with dad and I was just watching him, being so cute and I thought "I love this guy. This is real."

Then I got scared. I haven't said that to anyone in years, and it was not like this. I contemplated saying it to Buddy, but we were way off base on that. There were risks here, too, though. It was laying my feelings bare to a man who means the world to me, and it was admitting to myself how badly I needed him in my life. How much of a woman I wanted to be for him. Before I could say it, I tried to forget I ever wasn't Tori. I thought that would make it easier, but it was impossible. There's still baggage there. There's still this feeling that I'm lying to him just a little bit, even as every day passes and makes me more Tori and more his.

So I dove in and told him. Christmas eve. It was a beautiful night and we were out for a drive and we stopped at a gas station. He got out to fill the tank and I was sitting in there waiting for him, when something just grabbed me and made me leave the car and walk over to him. The look on his face before I said it, so clueless. I just took a breath, watched the steam come out of my mouth and said it. "Hey. I love you."

It was a really gutsy move, since if he didn't feel the same way, it would have wrecked the ride home, maybe even Christmas.

He just smiled and said "I knew that. I love you too."

I felt my legs turn to rubber. I nearly fell on him. Even remembering that moment now takes my breath away. I threw myself into his arms and we kissed. He pulled the pump from the tank and we hurried home.

And for a while it was bliss. Waking up in the morning thinking about how in love I am will do that.

Then in January I got this e-mail.

It was a long e-mail. It was apologetic. It had a lot of details about the last few years and why certain things happened the way they did. It was from Willy Taylor, and the gist of it was "I'm going back to Maine this Summer, and if you'd like, you can have your real body back."

Uh.

My "real" body?

I was gobsmacked. My life is so full of hanging threads, I thought this would never come up again. I just assumed Willy had gone off with my old body and was happy with it. But somehow, now, he's decided he's ready to "give it back?" Like I should be grateful for the chance to be that person again? Like being Cliff would be better just because he as a penis?

I didn't even think of it. I didn't even reply! Every time I tried I just got so outraged my fingers couldn't stop shaking. I don't want to go back, but that doesn't mean the hurt has gone away. That feeling of utterly sinking away from myself after he first told me he wanted another year with my body (which turned into TWO by the way) will always be with me. And even though it allowed me to become the person I am now, it still hurt like hell and he can't make that better. It wasn't even malice. It was just insensitive. I don't know what I'd even say, other than "No thanks."

How dare he re-open that wound? After that e-mail I went back to where I was a year earlier, second-guessing everything, falling out of "character" with this cloud of "Cliff-ness" hanging over over me. Every time I seemed upset about something since then, Alex could sense I needed to be comforted, but he never pushed too hard for information. He's there for me. He's so good for putting up with my nonsense. And so trusting not to ask questions I don't wanna answer.

I don't know what the future holds, but my present is well in hand.

Greg/Alexis: Hands on Learning

So I spent the last week wondering to myself if I was too hard on Malinda, trying to remember where I was at that stage. This led me to the conclusion that I wasnt even close to her level of instability and animosity, so I kept sleeping in the big bed, which has become a symbol of dominance to me. I didnt dare say the words "Valentine's Day" out loud around the house but told all of our friends that we were staying in. She mostly ignored me and I wondered what the next step was going to be. Fortunately someone took it for me.

Thursday afternoon after I came home from work there was a semi truck parked across from our condo. This was not something you saw a lot in our neighborhood and when I walked in the house I saw a large, hairy man following Malinda around the house and talking to her very sternly. Malinda was doing her best to ignore him but was also doing what he said. When he saw me his mouth dropped open. "You must be Greg" he whispered. That's when I put 2 and 2 together and realized that his was the real Sharon, and she currently looked like a truck driver named Jack.

Apparently she reads this blog every now and then on her cell phone and when she saw the last post she got to Vermont as soon as she could. She said that Malinda was going to have to learn how to impersonate her properly and she had to make sure of that personally. I dont know if she's always been this forceful or if its being in such a large body that has that effect, but she was giving orders and commands and I couldnt help but smile and go upstairs.

A few hours later she knocked on the door and I let her in "Is she crying?" I asked jokingly.

"Not a lot" She replied "She seemed to do what I was telling her to do just to get me out of her hair. She should be a lot more cooperative around the house as well as doing things around town as well. She's totally made me a hermit"

"Its hard to adjust" I said "I'm only doing so well because this is my 3rd go around, although her case is pretty extreme. How are you holding up"

"Pretty well considering THIS" she said crinkling up her face and gesturing towards her body "I'll never get used to it and hope I never have to. Still the job lets me travel a lot and I dont have to interact with a lot of people. Alex really hates her new life though, and she didn't even grow a penis"

"She doesn't like being the stay at home wife" I asked

"She doesn't like being attracted to men. It puts a hell of a strain on their marriage, since her husband has no idea. At first she was pretty mean, but things seemed to have gotten better, at least it seemed so when I saw her last?"

"Youve seen her?" I asked puzzled

"I saw her Tuesday afternoon" Sharon said mischievously "For Valentine's Day. One of the benefits of my job, I get to go to Minnesota every now and then and we meet up in a hotel."

"She's cheating on him" I said a little shocked

"Technically. I dont know how it works out. Their bodies our married, but she and I are soulmates, so it's kind of allowed. I think the whole concept of fidelity becomes a little gray when you change lives with someone"

That was one of the more profound things I'd heard said about the inn in awhile. After thinking about it, I was kind of glad that they got to see each other, although I hope that the husband doesnt find out and have his life affected.

We talked for a little while longer, about friends, and Burlington, and other little things about the life I was living. We were talking about fashion and stuff when she reached up and put her hand in my hair.

"It's so long" she mused

"Its barely down to my shoulders" I said confused "I had it halfway down my back when I was Priya"

"Alex wears her hair REALLY short" Sharon explained "Like only about 2 inches long short. Seeing her like this is bizarre" she trailed off as she started running her fingers through it.

I gently moved her big manly hand out of my hair when she took mine in hers and stared deeply into my eyes and started moving in for a kiss. I pulled a way with a bit of a shocked expression.

"Umm...I'm really not into that. At all." I said thinking about that drunken night with Bry

She pulled away and looked embarrassed "I'm sorry...its just...you look like her and its messing with my head."

I patted her on the knee and diffused the awkwardness. "It's understandable, it'll only be a few more months. We have the reservations and I promise you youre lives will be waiting her when you get back."

We then had a tight friendly hug, although she did ask first. She spent the night in Burlington before driving off on her next great adventure. I took off on another boring adventure in IT. Hopefully things get less tense around her.

-Greg

"Ellie": Fatherly Advice

I feel like such a loser lately.

At school, I spend a lot of my time alone. This is mostly be choice, since I really don't care for any of the people in this town or at the school. I'm getting a glimpse of a high school life I never had and I'm fine with the fact that I didn't live through this. I've seen such amazing things, the world, different bodies and lives, it's like... what do I have to say to any of these people? The dumb ones are all about Jersey Shore and LMFAO, and even the smart ones aren't nearly as cool as they think they are, just because they listen to old music and have Audrey Hepburn posters. Even my closest friend, my ex girlfriend Emily, is sinking into it. It's like she naturally morphed into this whole Teen Queen persona. She is not the girl I knew. She really isn't.

The last time I talked to her, she tried to fix me up with some guy, a friend of her boyfriend. I told her not to do me any favors.

I'm in a bad way, though. I'm nearly failing a lot of my classes. I guess I'm not book smart. I never even went to high school, I don't know much about studying! My "parents" have noticed.

One night I got up in the middle of the night to get a drink and I saw "Dad" flipping the channels. It was like 2 AM I guess. I asked what he was doing up.

"Couldn't sleep, didn't want to wake your mom. What are you doing up? It's a school night."

"Who cares?" I asked.

"Your mother cares. I care. We've noticed your marks aren't great."

"You know I'm not really your daughter, right? And she's not really my mom? And I don't give a shit what you think."

"Watch your mouth!" he scolded. There was a silence between us for a second. "I hate hearing you talk like that. Yes, damnit, I remember who you really are, but you look too young to talk like that. Would you mind?"

"Whatever," I said.

"It's a problem. Your schoolwork. Don't you care about anything? Wouldn't you like to graduate, finish high school, go do something with your life?"

"With my life?" I nearly choked. "You think I wanna stay here?"

"Don't you?"

"Hell no," I said. "And I think it's fucked up you assumed I did. What, you like it here?"

"Yeah. Actually, I do," he said. "I'm making good money. I'm in a stable partnership with a woman. We have a daughter."

"You've got a fucking lie!" I said in a whisper-yell. "We don't even know where the real Ellie and her dad are, let alone if they're trying to get back. You can do what you want but I'm not staying here a goddamn week longer than I have to."

"Well then," he said, "Maybe that's a good reason to try. So you don't throw Ellie's future away, no matter who ends up living this life."

I gritted my teeth. He went on. "I know you don't think I know what you're feeling right now. Maybe I don't. But I know it can't be good to shun the world the way you do. You're going through something right now, and you think because you're older that you're above it, but I don't think you are."

I said bitterly, "You think I need to make friends and study?"

"It could be good for you."

I wanted to yell out "FUCK YOU!" I wanted to storm off. If I really was a teenager, I probably would have. But I restrained myself and swallowed my anger.

"We've thought about hiring you a tutor, at least, to help you through this next semester. Then you can do what you want with your life, go back to Maine, go to school, whatever you need to do."

I turned around and went to my room but I didn't sleep. I was still hot with anger at the idea of this person trying to control my life, thinking he knows better than I do just because he looks like my dad. I wouldn't have taken that shit when we were the same age group, but suddenly he towers over me with his hairy gut and receding hairline and I take everything he has to say instead of fighting back.

After sleeping it off, though, I hated to admit there were parts of the conversation that made sense. There are things I could do to make my time here easier, but only I can make those decisions.

Shaun/Doug: An Uncomfortable Valentine

I'm a romantic. I believe women should be treated special, if you really love them. My ex always got a special treatment on Valentine's Day, and I thought I was being really smooth, buying a dozen roses and leaving one in a different location for Nia before she woke up: Her pillow, the shower, the kitchen, her car... I even dropped a few off at the reception at her Hospital, with the remaining ones to be found when she got home from her shift.

Instead, when she got home, I got "What the hell is this?"

"Uh, a Valentine? I thought it would be a nice..."

She interrupted, "When have we ever done anything for Valentine's? As long as I've known you, we agreed it was just a stupid day, all of a sudden you're all lovey dovey and it's creeping me out."

Swing and a miss.

"I had a... change of heart," I stammered.

"You've been having a lot of those lately," she said.

"I don't know what to say," I said. In reality, I was dying to tell her the truth, but given how far into the lie of Doug Green I've become, that might raise some really, really unpleasant questions.

She said, "I mean, it's just so out of character that I don't know how to take it. Some days it's like you've never even met me before, some days it's like you read me better than ever."

I try. You know, I like Nia a whole lot, and in my real life, I could have seen myself really falling for her, although she's different from all the women I've been with before. But I'm playing the game, trying to let her win as much as I can, because it isn't really my place to stir up a fuss with her. And I don't mind, so long as she's willing to put up with her now-clueless hubby. Since our schedules have actually not overlapped too much, it's worked really well so far.

And then she said this:

"Are you cheating?"

I just stared at her. I probably took way too long to answer, because I was trying to put the pieces together and see how that conclusion made sense. Maybe I avoid her. Maybe I seem uninterested in the relationship. Being "forgetful." All this stuff I can't hide about not being Doug.

"No," I said quietly, still trying to gather my thoughts.

"Really?"

"Really! Nia, I love you."

"How can I believe you?"

I told her every single thing I learned about her since I've been here. Her middle and maiden name. I told her she was 5'6, and "just the perfect weight." She grew up in Oakland and studied Nursing at UC San Francisco. She eats Honey Nut Cheerios every morning, but she'd eat French Toast every day if she could. Her favorite color is blue but her favorite dress is purple. She flosses. She secretly loves Sylvester Stallone movies, and she first met Doug Green because he was dating a girl she isn't friends with anymore.

She crinkled her nose in that cute way she does. "Because I stole you from her."

I told her, "You're worried, because I was stolen once, someone might again, but you're wrong."

I wrapped my arms around her and told her she didn't have worry anymore. She leaned in and kissed me.

"What did you say to me when I finally admitted I wanted to date you?"

I went a bit cold. "I don't know."

"Come on. That's an easy one. I had it engraved in my ring."

"I'm... drawing a blank."

She pulled her wedding band. Inside was engraved. "Right on."

She smiled. "You're the worst husband ever."

So I smoothed that one over. I wish this situation were as easy as just being able to look like Doug and act like myself, but it has actually required a great deal of effort to act in a way Nia accepts from Doug. Doug, if you're reading this, I'm trying, buddy. Keeping things stable for your return, I hope.

Anthony/Ceecee: I'm my father.

Oh, boy, where to start.

As Zane mentioned, there was an encounter between me and a man by the name of Blake, whom we both know professionally. I had hoped Zane wouldn't mention it in the post, but I guess in explaining what happened to her (and yes, I believe in facing reality, in that Zane is currently a girl,) at the party, it was only appropriate to note what she saw. And the conclusions she drew were not totally incorrect. But you might as well get the whole story.

I think of it this way. My father was an avowed carnivore. Nothing wrong with that, but ere was a man who would not accept a pizza with fewer than three types of meat, did not touch salads, and had a lifelong ambition to win any and all steakhouse challenges. Then one day, he woke up in the morning and his foot hurt. He could barely limp down the stairs, had to call in sick from work. He found out he had contracted gout, due to his diet. The main solution was to get off meat, and with great reluctance, he did so, finding several vegetarian (and vegan) recipe books, and turning healthy cooking into a hobby. Even though to this day it is medically safe for him to have meat in moderation, however, he is still an devoted vegetarian. This sudden transformation was confusing to my family, but years later, I understood it as a sort of self-preservation. Having felt that gout pain, he didn't even want to risk coming close to that experience again. He was a convert. And I guess I never quite understood how one could change one's life so completely until the day I woke up as a woman.

Granted, it did not happen that day, but right from the beginning, I could feel a shift in my perception. I work with several stunning women who are not shy about their cleavage and their bodies, and I rarely give them more than a passing glance (in fact, I feel a twinge of bitterness when they take it on themselves to flaunt it for no better reason than that they can) whereas I regard my own body as a sort of work in progress, trying to work off some of the pounds and inches from Ceecee's frame that I feel could be lost. I've already gone down two dress sizes since being here: I suspect Ceecee has a history of fluctuation, since there were dresses of that size in her wardrobe already, but I mainly pick out clothes for myself (weight loss, in this respect, can be pricey.)

It was not, however, a matter of sexual preference that I began my arrangement with Blake. It was self-preservation at work. In my past life, my real life, I still had a girlfriend to whom I was devoted. Someone I love and desperately want to return to. And I hope, upon returning to my body, my attraction to her returns, because I know she is that magnificent a person.

But for the time being, I'm not Anthony, I'm Charlotte. I don't live Anthony's life and I don't have his responsibilities. Instead, I have a whole different role, that of an agent, specifically Clara's agent. And Zane, Clara, whomever she is or thinks she is, is still my friend, very important to me no matter what we look like.

So when Blake, a photographer we do a certain amount of business with, began showing signs of interest in me, I took a somewhat mercenary attitude toward it. After all, here is a man surrounded by beautiful women constantly. I took it as a compliment last fall when he started lingering by my desk after meetings, calling to see "what was up." I was flattered, it meant I was at least doing something right. I knew I could turn it to my advantage, and deep down, I was morbidly curious as to what lay behind that door.

I let him take me out to dinner back in October. Wine loosened my tongue and I mentioned I liked a certain performer who would be in town. He got us tickets. We went, it was a great show, and to show my appreciation, I took his big hand in mine and kissed him. He jumped like a dog going after a treat. I told him I wasn't that kind of girl. He asked what kind of girl I was and I told him I was still figuring it out.

He was patient with me, which I respected. Again, he's a fairly handsome guy, and I believe he could be, and probably has been, with numerous more attractive women than me. But he chose to focus on me and I respected that. I kept going with it, convincing myself I was doing good for my friend... and Zane did get numerous jobs through him and through his recommendation.

By December, Zane had hit rock bottom, and the goodwill could only go so far. By then, though, what had been started with Blake could not be stopped. It would simply be too awkward to end our arrangement, given we would still have to maintain a working relationship. Right now, I guess you could say I'm using him for a different purpose. Although I don't particularly like him, in a relationship sort of way, I have grown fond of the feeling of having someone I can call when I need attention. So long as he and I are capable of keeping it casual, I'll be happy to keep going. When he proposed we have a dinner on Valentine's Day, I told him I did not think we were a "Valentine's Dinner" type of pair. It was a bit of a sticking point between us, but he agreed eventually we weren't.

I've had to remind him a couple of times, though, that this is not a real relationship. I'm not here to let anyone fall in love with Ceecee's body, because I know I'll be gone eventually anyway, back to my real life, my real relationship. If it's still intact by then. But that's another issue I may someday feel comfortable exploring here on this blog. I already feel somewhat exposed owning up to this, but it's the adult thing to do.

Greg/Alexis: Standing up for myself

In my old life I would refer to a woman who was being aggressive or whiny or mean about something as "being a bitch", which is something a lot of us do even though it is a pretty sexist thing to say. Having spent the last 3 years as three females, I try to refrain from saying it, matter of perspective and all that. And honestly I rarely deserved that title, because I'm rarely aggressive, whiny, or mean that's just the type of person I am, although when someone or something totally warrants it, I will go off and lose my temper, and Tuesday night I was a total bitch.

It all started when I got home from work and there was a message on the answering machine for the house phone. If someone left a message there it had to be important because they had that number and not a cell number. I pushed play and the message went something like this:

"This message is for Sharon Barco from Dr. Simon Taylor's office reminding you of your appointment for February 18th, please call back to confirm and please not that if you cant make it your deposit will not be refunded to you."

If theres one thing I've learned from being in another person's body is that you respect their medical histories and instructions, as Zane found out when he stopped taking Clara's meds. So despite our iciness I went upstairs to tell Malinda she had a doctor's appointment.

"For what? I'm not sick" she said

"I dunno, maybe the gynecologist?" I suggested

"Shouldnt be, I had that appointment in November and the Doctor was a lady" she replied.

I had had the same type of appointment with the same doctor, and it wasnt Simon Taylor, so thinking something might be wrong and not trusting Malinda to follow through, I called the real Sharon, who if you remember is now a truck driver.

When I told her about an appointment with Dr. Taylor her voice went soft and all she managed was a soft "Oh."

"What is it, she doesnt have cancer or anything, does she?"

"No," she said sounding very girl and almost on the verge of tears "It's a fertility clinic"

Ouch. My heart went out to her. Apparently she and Alex had been wanting to start a family and they were going to have her being insemination around this time, but the inn threw them a curveball.

"I'd love to help you, Sharon" I consoled her "But this sort of thing is probably best left till your in your right bodies"

"I know" she sniffled, obviously missing her life.

We hung up shortly after and Malinda was in the room. "So what is it?"

"Fertility Clinic" I said sadly "I guess we're gonna cancel that appointment"

"Ugh, Clearly" she said with marked disgust "Those kind of people probably shouldnt even have kids"

Now, I've never been much of an activist. Being born a white male I've always been anti discrimination but havent really been effected by it. Even my time as Priya I never really felt discriminated against for being a minority and I'm certainly not an active part of the gay community now, but something about that comment boiled me over and I lashed out at her.

"You know what? FUCK YOU" I yelled "BOTH of them would make a better mother than you because they at least seem to be capable of compassion and love and arent some lazy, ignorant, spoiled brat!"

She was clearly shocked because her mouth hung wide open but I continued

"Let me tell you something about 'those people'. They arent any different from anyone else and in case you havent noticed, YOU'RE ONE OF THEM! That's right, you're a great big DYKE. That's why that guy left early the other night, because you didn't want him. Because your gay. And guess what? NOBODY CARES. This isnt your stupid little hick home town where people judge, its an open society. So the sooner you get over your self loathing maybe you might stop being such an insufferable child"

My face was red at this point and Malinda's was a mixture of terror and anger, but mostly terror. She looked like she thought I was going to hit her. I wanted to hit her. I couldve hit her. I'm an athlete and she's an artist, I'd kick her butt. But i'm not an abusive wife. I didn't hit her.

"And one more thing. You can sleep on the couch tonight. I pay the fucking mortgage around here, I'm going to sleep in the big bed."

I stood there waiting for a response, but all she did was look at me with tears welling up in her eyes and before leaving the house.

She didnt come back until late that night, and I know this because I kept my promise and slept in the Master Bedroom and didnt hear her come in. She's been a lot more subdued the last couple of nights. Hopefully I scared some sense into her.

I'll keep you posted.

-Greg

Zane-Clara: Beautiful Monster

Okay. I've been on the pills for over a month now. I wouldn't say I can "feel" them working, but suddenly things bother me a lot less, so I'm aware of them when something that would've bothered me doesn't. To start with, I'm eating more. I could barely choke down two meals a day, which left me weary and sick for a lot of the time, but now I'm more or less normal.

Which, weirdly enough, made me start getting a period. I thought I was lucky, I hadn't bled at all the whole time I was here and I thought maybe Clara was one of the few girls that didn't get it at all, but I guess it sometimes has to do with dieting or eating disorders or whatever she's got. It was embarrassing as hell, I had to borrow a pad from one of my housemates, then go shopping for my own. Luckily at least one of the girls around here doesn't use tampons, because I am NOT down with those things.

But I guess because i was depressed, I didn't tell you a lot of stuff. I only ever seemed to talk about how frustrated I was, and that's all true. It's not like I loved dressing up to be a model, getting my hair done, putting make up on, shaving my body constantly and being stared at by everybody.

But it all happened. And suddenly, last Saturday night, there I am looking myself in the mirror, with all the mascara and lipstick and foundation and concealer on, putting my earrings in. I had a green evening gown on and I was even wearing a strapless bra. And the funny thing is what I was thinking as I looked myself in the mirror. The more of it I had, the girlier I looked, the more in-character I felt. If I get up in the morning and put on some jeans and a t-shirt, and just let my boobs hang because I don't wanna put a bra on, I feel like an asshole, but all dressed up like this, I could at least pretend I'm supposed to be this way. Sure, my underwear was riding up my crack, but other than that, I felt pretty sexy. Besides, it was just one night, and there was gonna be free booze. And I was gonna have Anthony nearby for support anyhow. If nothing else, I could lean on him if I tripped on my own dress.

So, we drove up to the dining hall where this even was being held. Anthony was looking good, having wrapped herself in this slick black gown with a corset that really pushed his tits up and accentuated his butt. Her butt. It's a girl's butt, I shouldn't keep talking about it like it's my friend Anthony's. She seemed pretty impressed at the lengths I went to... one of the girls in the house is a make-up artist, and it took some convincing since I'm not really in good with her, but she at least gave me a good price.

So we got in and were both instantly presented with champagne. Beautiful. We started talking, but Anth seemed distracted. Like she was looking for someone. The reason we were there was to shmooze, I figured there was some bigshot photog she wanted me to charm.

Eventually, we ran into Blake, one of the guys who's hired me a few times. He does a lot of ad campaigns, billboards and print mostly. He comes over to us and I wave "Hey!" and he gives me a nod before zeroing in on Anth. Soon as she's done her drink, he gets her another. They share private jokes. He's just giving her this uber-creepy look. Like, the "fuck-me" eyes. I wanted to yak.

I was trying to pull Anth away to the bathroom so I could save him from his advances, but I couldn't get a word in edgewise. The whole thing was making me uncomfortable, so I went off on my own, eventually going to the ladies' room anyway because three glasses of free booze just went right through me.

There, some bitch model asked what size I was wearing these days because the last time she saw "me" I looked way thinner. I didn't recognize her, but I wanted to deck her. I figure it'd be hard to get gigs with a broken nose and a black eye. I was wearing a ring, too.

When I got back to the main hall, I couldn't find Anth, which worried me. But I didn't have long to look for her because I got cornered by this guy. I wanted to push him away, but something about him seemed harmless, so if he was willing to put up with me repeatedly telling him how nothing was going to happen, I could stand to pretend to listen to his story. His name was Wesley Bridges, a rich entrepreneur type. I forget what his business is, but it doesn't really matter.

Then after about forty minutes, Anth and Blake re-appeared. And I was going to ask what happened, but it didn't take long to figure it out. Her hair was all ruffled. Her dress looked like it'd been taken off and put back on. And Blake... Blake had this smug fucking swagger like he had something to be proud of.

"What was that?" I asked through gritted teeth.

"Oh, he just wanted to talk a little business."

I glared at her. "That's all?"

"Yeah, Clara," she said, using my fake name like it was no big deal, "It was just business."

I didn't want to talk to her anymore. I didn't want to talk to anyone. I had a few more drinks, then found the guy from earlier, Wes, and asked if he'd take me home.

Except when I woke up the next morning, I wasn't home. No, I was lying in a stranger's bed, naked.

I leaned over the bed and horked all over the floor.

I slowly got up and checked the place. There was a bathroom attached to the room, where I scrubbed the crusty makeup off my face and rinsed my mouth. It was a guest room, you could tell because there wasn't any clothes in the dresser, but a man's robe in the closet. I slipped the robe on and clutched it tight, wandering the halls of this penthouse until I found a kitchen. He was standing there, in a polo shirt, making eggs, like in the movies or something.

"Where am I?"

"Wow, you were really out of it last night, huh? You couldn't remember how to get back to your place, so you came back here."

That sounds right. "And my clothes?"

"You threw up on yourself in my car," he said, "So when we got here, the first thing you did was strip down. Now, your bra and panties, you claimed, you were just sick of wearing."

Again, that also sounded right.

I asked, "You didn't see anything... did you?"

"I tried to look away. You made it pretty clear you weren't trying to put on a show."

He probably saw the look of shame on my face, though, cause then he clarified that we didn't do anything. I believed him because I feel like I would've noticed. He told me that he basically let me pass out in his guest room, and then he sat up with me to make sure I didn't get too sick.

"Yeah, I'm sorry," I said, "Last night was a bad night, I saw something that really messed me up."

"I understand, we all have our bad times."

"I've been having plenty of those lately. Sorry again, you seem like a really nice guy. You didn't need to be so nice to me. Probably any other girl there would've totally banged you."

He laughed a bit. "Yeah, that might be true. We'll never know. I don't know, I guess I just like a wreck."

Then I laughed. Yeah, I'm definitely that. "I'm gonna go change, then get a cab home."

"Oh, forget that. Have some breakfast with me, then we'll see if we can find your place."

I was starving. It would've been hard to turn down. So we sat and ate, pretty much in silence.

I was uncomfortable, naked except for the fabric of the robe. But I didn't leave, I didn't stop eating until I was full (a surprisingly big deal) and he was a gentleman, didn't try to hit on me. He just asked some questions about my past, what I did... I gave vague answers, "Oh I grew up around here, trying to be a model, but it's not really working out." That kinda thing.

He took me home, and I stayed quiet while I tried to convince myself I didn't see what I thought I did. It looked like Anth had snuck off to mess around with Blake, but it could've been anything.

"Hey, thanks for putting up with my craziness," I said. I don't know if I would have rescued some messy chick from a party when I could've gone for one who would screw me.

We finally got to my place. "Listen," he said, "I put my number in your phone. If you ever need anything... it might come in handy, someday."

"Yeah, we'll see."

I walked up the steps and back to my pathetic little life.

Greg/Alexis: Yearly plans.

So this year I was about a week late getting my reservations for the Trading Post Inn, not only because the people in the chain were hard to track down but because I had to rent two rooms and organize two chains.

My own chain was actually pretty easy this year, since I didnt have a body to go back to. I wasnt going back to being Dee, which kind of freaked out the guy who wound up as her. He's a 16 year old who not only hates being in her body, but he took his first glimpse of independence the wrong way. Started drinking a lot and got fired from her job. Luckily he's managed to find a way back to his old life. I on the other hand, am sticking with my original plan to "roll the dice" and booked the room at the most convenient time. The real Alex will follow and get her body back and it goes on like that for a few more links in the chain.

Booking the other room was a little more difficult and yes we are booking two rooms. I've been burned by the Inn enough times to not be paranoid. The reason for 2 rooms is because if Malinda and I share a room, theres no guarantee that she'll be the one who wakes up as herself, and I do NOT want to spend a year as her. Also complicating things would be when the real Barcos stay in there they might wind up in each others body, which probably wouldnt be that big of a change. They'd both be female and they'd both still live in the same place and still be married to each other, but from talking to them their personalities are different enough that its best just to play it safe and rent two rooms.

I of course, did the booking for both rooms. This is because Malinda hates thinking about that kind of stuff and is still barely talking to me, also I'm the only one with a job and most of the high limit credit cards are in Sharon's name, and finally I dont trust Malinda not to screw it up. Finally after all the email juggling back and forth we're all set to head to Maine and begin things the 2nd week of August. And yes I'm a bit nervous about where I wind up, but also a little excited.

A lot of that stems from the icy conditions here in Vermont, and not I'm not talking about the unusually warm February weather, I'm talking about how my housemate is angry at me and isnt ready to talk. I'm over it though. I tried to help her through this experience and she just got mad and blamed me for everything she didnt like about it. I'm just content to sit back and watch.

Like last Friday. Malinda spent January trying to be as much of herself as possible, which is all fine and dandy to an extent but its proper inn etiquette to at least TRY and live the live of the person the world sees you as. Malinda has taken to going out at night, and not just on weekends because as I said before , she doesnt have a real job. She mostly goes out a long and from the way she dresses I think she's going to clubs, and not the ones that that the real Sharon and Alex usually go to. I think she's going to college clubs and dancing. Sharon is in her late 20's but she's very good looking and could pass for 24 if she tried, and Malinda is trying...a little too hard.

Friday night I was staying in finishing staff evaluations (They all got great ones, I'm really nice at work, especially since they do all the real work) while Malinda headed out around 8pm when her taxi got there. (I'm very possessive of the Ranger Rover. I dont want her drinking and driving) I was still awake when she got home around 2 am, just sitting on the couch in a thank top and pjs when she walked in giggly, drunk, disheveled, and followed by a guy.

I raised an eyebrow when I saw her but she totally blew me off "This is my roommate, Alex" she said in a half hearted introduction as he followed her upstairs. I turned back to my work wondering if anyone had seen her and what she was doing to Sharon's reputation, when 5 minutes later the guy came downstairs with a clearly disappointed look on his face, Malinda saw him to the door and said an awkward goodbye.

When the door turned I said with a smirk "Not a lot of stamina?" she just glared at me "I dont want to talk about it" Of course she didnt need to talk about it for me to know what happened. She couldnt bring herself to do it. Having been both heterosexual and now homosexual I can tell you that you can't force it. Well, i guess you can force it but it feels extremely wrong. She probably got all naked with him and chickened out. Hopefully this doesnt make her more resentful of things.

Anyway, I'll keep counting the days till Ive got a new life

-Greg.

Anthony/Ceecee: Drive

I'm a driven individual. I take my work very seriously, it's the same now as it was when I was a man. I don't linger long on this blog because for the time being my only objective has been to keep my head down, keep busy, be the best Ceecee I can be and prepare for my return to my own body.

People notice. I'm not content to do the grunt work while the higher-ups take the credit. There was a learning curve to working in the industry, but I picked it up as quickly as I could. It's all networking anyhow. There have been three things motivating me. One is the desire to keep from thinking too hard about my predicament.

The second is money. I always had a good supply of cash as Anthony. I wasn't "1%" rich, but I was working my way up. Ceecee left me with a modest budget and less job security, so I had to work extra hard. It was an adjustment, but it was a challenge I was willing to meet.

Third was concern for my friend. Even before I knew Zane was suffering from Clara's depression, I felt it was my responsibility to look after him. For months, between September and December, much of my time was spent guiding Clara's career, when I could have been acquiring new clients to hedge my bets, or at least working closer with existing ones who weren't as reluctant to do their jobs. It isn't that I wanted Zane to accept his new role, it was that I wanted to give him something to focus on, like I had found, so that when he went home at night he didn't pass out in bed drunk and wake up the next morning feeling like a wreck. The idea that it could be biological never even occurred to me.

Over the course of a few months, I negotiated several modeling gigs for Clara. It's not glamorous runway stuff, most of it was just advertising, stock photos, trade conventions... junk gigs that none of the girls really want to do, but they pay.

It wasn't working. I was getting fed up with Zane's inability to get with the program. This culminated in a fight, shortly before the diagnosis. We were supposed to have a business meeting, and he was late. He showed up looking shabby, his commitment to the job of being Clara once again dubious. I yelled... I barely recognized the sounds coming out of my mouth, the way my voice got so high and shrill, but there it was. We didn't talk for a while after that. My offer to help with the prescription was my way of apologizing, but Ceecee's financial situation means I'm hardly equipped to shower money on him, so I once again expressed my desire to see him take things a bit more seriously, at least as a way of making money. Since December, he's taken on a few modeling gigs and acted very professionally, and our friendship has been mending ever since.

I definitely saw a change in his demeanor since he started on the pills. He was worried they'd brainwash him, but as far as I can tell, they're just helping him cope. It's not blocking out all the stuff he hates about being a woman -- I share many of the same complaints -- but it's certainly dulling the intensity he feels them. He can go out in the world, even talk to men without feeling ashamed. What's more, we've rebuilt a certain level of trust, which is good, because I had a favor to ask him.

We went out for coffee. I've been a little worried about running out of things to talk about. He's not interested in hearing about work, and there's never anything going on with him that I don't really know about. He's also really dodgy when I try to talk about our predicament, because he thinks just because I've been to a hairdresser and always wear a bra that I've "given in" to being a girl. I tried to ease into the conversation by talking about that weekend's Pats game, but he was just pissed about not being able to see it.

During one lull, he asked if I ever wondered what he looked like naked. I rolled my eyes. "I've seen naked girls, Zane."

"I'd show you, y'know. If you wanted to see. Unless you're into dudes now."

He was clearly messing with me. I tried to suppress my irritation. He went on, "There's this one chick I live with, Leslie? She's really into this other dude in our house, Marc. She's pretty hot, too. I wouldn't mind hitting that."

I grumbled, "I doubt she's into girls." That shut him up. I told him we actually had business. At the end of the month, we're doing this event for the agency. It's a bit of a mixer, really. There's going to be a lot of clients there, a lot of casting people, photographers, industry types and other bigwigs. I've been trying not to tank Clara's career, and it would be a step in the right direction to get Zane out to it.

"Will there be booze?"

"Yeah, sure... but you're gonna have to go easy. We don't know how that stuff reacts with your medicine."

"I'll be fine," he said like it was no big thing.

I sense trouble. It's not that I need anything from him other than his presence, and hopefully staying out of trouble, but it would be nice not to have to worry about that second part.

Greg/Alexis: The Silent Treatment

I think sometimes the reason I have long layoffs from writing in this blog is because I like not having to think about what's happened to me. If youll notice I'll almost always blog frequently after getting a new body, and just slow down towards the holidays, picking up again when its time to go back to the inn. Thats probably because sometimes I like to just live my life and not have to think about my past ones or any future ones directly.

Things were going great for me the last month and a half. I had a nice house, a great job, a new car thanks to the insurance finally coming through on the Range Rover that got crushed by Hurricane Irene, friends, even Malinda was pleasant.

She had finally gotten out of her post transformation funk in December and it made life a lot easier around here. She actually started doing her share of the cleaning and even cooked on weeknights when I had to work. Whats even more amazing is that she began leaving the house. At first it was during the day to run errands but soon she began going out to see movies and try restaurants in town and even with me and some friends to bars on the weekends. It was like she had gotten over her intense fear of being seen as Sharon Barco. I think going to meet Todd and Bryan helped immensely, because it allowed her to be herself and I think she made the connection that she could still be herself in someways even if people thought she wasnt.

Of course, with things going so well for me, it was only a matter of time before they blew up...

The holiday season actually wasnt stressful at all for us, because we basically stayed in together. Neither of us had any desire to meet Sharon or Alexis' parents or have to act as wife and wife in front of family so we told her body's parents were were going to my body's parents and vice versa. There were phone calls on the 25th but other than that nobody seemed to be the wiser.

The trouble started on new years eve. A couple we were friends with, Alan and Tia, were having a party at their house and really wanted us to come because they hadnt seen us in awhile. I broached the subject carefully with Malinda, because while she had come out of her shell, this would mean being Sharon around people that knew her as such and she'd have to play the part a little more.

To my surprise, she agreed instantly. Apparently New Years Eve is one of her favorite holidays and she went and bough a whole new outfit just for the occasion. Just a pair of black leggings and a red turtleneck. It was tight fitting, which was Malinda's way of looking sexy in the cold. Short skirts and cleavage werent exact a good idea when it was 29 degrees out. I swear that girl seriously underestimated how cold it gets in the North.

Anyway we were indoors most of the night because of the snow, but we managed to fake it. We stuck together mostly because there were a lot of people we didnt recognize that we were supposed to. Fortunately when people drink a lot of conversations dont go beyond "How are you I havent seen you in forever" and of course being girls we also had to pose for pictures with people who hadnt seen us in awhile. There must be at least 100 pictures up on facebook of that night.

Anyway, the trouble began at the stroke of midnight. The champagne had been poured and people were counting down. Once 2012 got here we all shouted happy new year and everyone around us who was in a couple was kissing. Something in the moment caught us up because I looked at Malinda for a couple seconds, and she looked at me in the same way, and we kissed.

It wasnt just a peck on the cheek, it lasted a good ten seconds. It was the first time I'd kissed anyone since I was Deb, and I imagine Malinda was on a similar drought. It felt good and we pulled away and looked at each other unknowingly.

All of a sudden her face changed. I glint of anger shone in her eye. I thought she was going to slap me. "Im sorry" i whispered. "Take me home. Now." She said through gritted teeth.

The ride home started out in silence, which I foolishly attempted to break by saying. "I'm sorry, I just got caught up in the moment." This of course unleashed her fury. "You KNOW I didnt want to do that. You KNOW I think its wrong. How long have you been waiting to do that? Is this just some sort of sick fantasy of yours." and and all sorts of other angry questions and statements about how I'm such a jerk for doing that to her.

What's followed has been two weeks of silence. No football bonding. No going out together. She still goes out on her own, with some friends I'm not really close to, which is good in a way because she hasnt reverted back to being a hermit. And she still cleans the house, I think to avoid having to argue with me over that. Truth be told I'm not too eager to start a fight with her. I've put in 4 good months trying to get her acclimated and she kissed me just as much as I kissed her, as much as she'll never admit that.

I'm just hoping she doesnt stab me in my sleep.

-Greg

Todd: Home for the Holidays

Home, in this case, being both Toronto and this blog.

Some stuff has happened since I last checked in, although not all of it is really all that noteworthy. Somebody Else is, if not totally dead, then at least on hiatus. Truth is, we were really stretching it by running as long as we did after Bry and Shel's breakup, but the touring band experience was too good an opportunity for any of us to pass up, with or without the opportunity to meet up with some of our Inn people. And Bry and I genuinely do enjoy playing together, but the time on the road was tense enough that I'll be happy to just put the dream away for a while.

Shelby, obviously, is not into it, and without a drummer we're just two guys with guitars, not a band. She was fitting in well, but the relationship drama was impossible to navigate. She and I both went back to work at the store, and she's picking back up at school this semester. Now, they ended their relationship on good enough terms that finishing (and repeatedly extending) the tour wasn't a problem, but they were not keen on seeing each other after we got back. So on the one hand I live with Bryan and he's my best friend. On the other, I work with Shelby and she's been a good friend since before they dated.

Alia and I ended up going to a party at a house near the University campus where some of Shelby's friends live. We weren't going to go along, since Bry wasn't able to go, but he got sick and we all figured, no sense in hanging around the house if we don't need to. The night ended up being lame, we weren't in the mood to put up with college kid shenanigans. We're starting to get a bit old, I guess. Shelby was hanging out with her friend Reggie, who was giving us the hairy eyeball for some reason, I guess he knew we were friends with Shelby's ex. We ended up leaving at 11:30 after Shelby and Reggie turned the night into a long drunken make-out session. Alia and I spent midnight on the subway, crawling into bed together at 1.

She nuzzled into my arms, and I muttered, "Hey... you should move in."

She looked me in the eye to determine whether I was just drunkenly rambling, or if I meant it. I did, of course. This is the most serious we've ever been. Neither of us know if we believe in marriage, but it feels right to start a new direction. We've been talking about it ever since.

Shelby, meanwhile, was completely embarrassed by the makeout session we witnessed. She doesn't know if it's too soon after Bryan, if she's just vulnerable, what he feels, etc, etc. Kids stuff. The kind of stuff that just amuses me to hear now.

-Todd

"Ellie": Living With Secrets

There are things about being Ellie that are easy, and there are parts of being her that aren't.

First off, high school just isn't fun. I never went in my old lives, I had to grow up quick and learn on my own. Being a 14-year-old girl in a more mature body meant that I had a moment when I realized I could either take control and educate myself, or coast on my looks and become a "dumb girl." As a result I missed out on a lot of learning that people are supposed to at least try to learn... I still can't do math worth a damn and don't know anything about science. But I was a real bookworm and loved things like history and geography.

So even though I feel like I'm past all this, and mentally way more mature than anyone in my class, I keep coming up against my limitations to the point where I've considered getting a tutor. I'm tired of being frustrated by my classes, because right now that's pretty much my entire life. That and getting home, watching TV, and ignoring everyone but the internet.

I'm kind of a loner. I didn't used to be, and when I was Sam I had a really tough time being on my own (to he point where it probably seriously damaged me) but somewhere along the way I realized I was probably meant to be more alone than not. I obviously don't fit in with others. I don't want to. I wish I was different, I wish I could just slip into it like Emily, but it's not going to happen.

Emily. I still really care about her. I hope she knows. I see her all the time at school but we hardly talk because she's made friends with people I don't really like, and I'm not going to pretend to be nice to them just so I can be with my girlfriend. Yeah, I said it, deep down, I'm still the person she dated and she's still the girl I liked. Those feelings won't go away, which is so strange. I remember how Tanya and Melanie used to be a couple before they became sisters, and it just tore them apart... they didn't "break up" because they were pretending to be sisters. They broke up because one of them completely lost interest in the idea of a relationship with a woman. The fact that I haven't scares me. I know Bryan, when he was Ellie, had the same sort of interests, but I just didn't expect it to come over me like this. It's not that I stare at all the girls, it's just when I see her, it's like I'm still a guy.

Life at home is... lame. Like I said, I don't do much, I don't even have to work. My "dad," formerly Tanya, has really grown into his role... I don't ask exactly how into it he is, but he keeps the role up even when we're alone. I call him "Dad" and he tries to parent me, which I... don't like. I mean, how can I take him seriously? This time last year he was a 20-year-old girl having constant emotional breakdowns. "Mom" seems to like him fine. She's none the wiser.

Which brings me to my last point, which is this Donna lady, and the true nature of my life as Ellie. Supposedly, last year, a guy named Ernie was living Ellie's life, meaning the real Ellie is still out there somewhere. And living as her "dad" was a woman named Donna, a lady from the neighborhood. I've met her a few times, when the parents have her family over, and I've read about her on the blog from Todd's times as Anne-Marie, but she's never said anything. She acts like nothing ever happened, so I don't know what any of it means.

I guess it doesn't make a difference, but I'm dying to know how this lady ended up taking the trip, if she's in her own body, what it all means. Sometimes I feel like my life is made up of secrets I can't tell and questions I can't ask.

Lisa/Eve: Behind the Scenes

It's strange. I'm in a room full of someone else's childhood memories, but it's having a strangely powerful effect on me. Seeing Eve Christopolous' bedroom, which she moved out of just before I turned into her, reminds me of my own teenage years. Of course, everywhere I go nowadays reminds me of something from a long time ago.

Since the fall, I've been living as Eve. She's in her first year of college, on her own for the first time. For her it would be freedom, for me it's... well, I thought it would be confining, but the fact is, it's actually a lot more freeing than I thought. I was going to quit. I didn't see the point in staying at her school, paying money gaining knowledge I didn't need or want, while the girl who's supposed to be learning is miles away living another life.

She convinced me not to. If I dropped out, I could get her money back, but I'd still have to occupy myself for a year while I wait in line to get my body back and give this one up. All the classes she's taking this year are the prerequisites for her major, which she doesn't seem to think she's missing much (and to be honest, a lot of this stuff sounds like what I remember of high school science... this is a community college after all.) She wants to study anthropology, so I'm doing the grunt work for her reluctantly.

It's not really in my nature to half-ass it either, so I ed up getting stressed when I have a big midterm of final. This didn't exactly win me friends with my floormates. I guess that's the thing when you're a grown woman inn 18-year-old body. All these kids are experiencing their first freedom and want to goof off and mess around, (not to mention screw like bunnies!) but I've already been there, done that, bought the pregnancy test, so I just want to keep my head down.

Nobody likes feeling left out, though... I wish I related to these kids better, but I look at them and I still just see kids who don't know anything about the world, learning to walk. I end up playing mother, cleaning after them and asking them to keep it down after eleven. My roommate is a bit of a drama queen who broke up with her high school boyfriend just before she got here, cried and cried, then started hooking up with every random guy she could. Some of the other girls on the floor, thank God, have taken it more slowly.

Then there are the boys. A bunch of horny guys just trying to score. And I guess it's a little sick that after a while these kids start looking kinda good to me. Like, I know it's totally inappropriate, but I have to actively remember I'm old enough to be these boys'...... cool older cousin. And that a lot of the guys I was attracted to at that age were not the types of guys that would turn out to be... caring, sensitive spouses. And I can see right through them. So I ended up spending a lot of time alone.

So I'm thankful to be "home," where at least I'm not far from Anthony... "Charlotte." I have to say, my return for the Holidays is the first time I've seen "him" since I left for school, and she looks to be taking his new role frighteningly well. I mean, I'll admit comfort, sure, even a bit of enthusiasm for being younger and prettier, but to see that woman rock a three-inch heel and a sundress? I can't even look her in the eye! (And not just because, in those shoes, my eyes come up to her tits. Kidding, I'm not that much shorter.) Frankly, I understand Zane's reaction a bit more, even without finding out Clara was manic-depressive or whatever. I'm not saying he shouldn't come to terms with what's happened, but I totally understand not being cool with it.

Shaun's the only one I haven't seen. Work and marriage keeps him pretty busy, but we've been texting.

Anyway, if things go well, you probably won't hear too much from me. Still, Anth and I are planning a trip out to Scottsdale, Arizona, to see the real Charlotte and Eve in the new year, so I probably will report on that.

Thanks for listening.

By the way, Merry Christmas everyone! It's so strange being in the warm weather instead of freezing my butt off in New England! I miss it so much.

Zane/Clara/Whatever: My Big Choice

Since I couldn't quit being a girl, I was going to just quit this blog. I don't know why it's surprising to you people that I don't love having a pussy. You haven't heard from me in a while and a lot of that has just been sleeping, drinking, avoiding life, and occasionally working.

Here's three things that happened that explained why I'm back here, and why you might hear from me again.

I had a lunch meeting with Anthony. I felt pretty comfortable spilling my guts to her, looking like CeeCee. Talking to her reminds me of some of the best relationships I've had, before I fucked them up. I let it all out and she didn't tell me I was wrong for feeling like that, just that she understood and wished she could help me any way she could. I said that probably would mean laying off the model thing. I really just want to crawl under the sheets for the rest of the year, until I can go back to the inn.

And then something happened. Someone saw us. It was a friend of Anthony's... actually CeeCee's. He comes over, leans over her... and kisses her on the cheek. Like it was no big deal. And he just leans into it! And they make nice and he even kinda flirts with her. Fuck, every time a guy has talked to me like that I wanted to cut his balls off for looking at me, and he just laughs along, and when he's gone... and I notice him staring down at her cleavage... she just acts like it was no big deal. "Just part of business, being friendly," she says, but it looked like he wanted to fuck her.

I ask "You wouldn't, right?"

"No, of course not. It's just easier to get along with guys if they think there's a chance."

That fucking burned me. Like I didn't even know who I was talking to. And it was still bothering me by Thanksgiving, and Shaun was cool enough to invite me over to his place and meet his wife (she's okay looking) but I also had to deal with Clara and Doug's parents. I didn't really wanna talk to anyone, I just wanted to sit around watching football.

At the end of the night, I'm out having a smoke when "mom" comes out. I expected her to give me some bullshit about quitting, but I guess she just accepts that her daughter does that. But what she did do was ask about the way I've been behaving all night, and I kinda dodge answering, because it's none of her business. And then she asks me this question:

"Are you taking your pills?"

And I'm like, what is there some kind of girl-pill I should be taking? What's the deal here? I'm all confused, until I get home and I start doing some digging and I find out Clara's on fucking anti-depressants. Xanax or Zoloft or whatever. I've never taken pills in my life, besides painkillers. She's depressed?? She never fucking mentioned that to me!!

So I'm freaking out, like is this my problem now? Did I get this from her? Like, it's not my problem, is it? Then I started looking it up online and I realized I had all these symptoms, which I figured were just from, you know, being turned into a fucking girl.

No, it turns out Clara was actually clinically depressed and now I probably am too. I went and saw the doctor and got a prescription, but I can't fucking afford the pills on the money I make at the snack bar.

I talked to Anthony about it, and she said she would lend me some money, but I would need to pay it back, and the only real way to do that is to throw myself into this modeling thing. So I either do something I really don't wanna do, or I feel shitty all the time.

So I've got the pills, but I haven't done any more modeling jobs. I haven't even taken any of the pills. I just look at them and I think "Is it really gonna make everything okay? Am I gonna take this pill and suddenly everything's gonna be all right and I'll feel okay about being a girl? Am I still gonna be me? Or am I just gonna start calling myself Clara and go on being girly?" I don't know. It was like this is the end of me. I couldn't bring myself to take them.

Tonight I had to get a ride home from my day job, but Anthony wasn't available. I could barely convince myself to call one of my housemates, because I feel like those people all hate me and think I'm an asshole, and I didn't want anything to do with them and I didn't think they'd want to help me.

But no, this one girl Leslie did end up helping me and seeming pretty happy to do it. We even went out for drinks. I was so fucking uncomfortable sitting with this girl, I didn't know what to say or where to look, but she was good at getting guys to leave us alone and she just kept talking. I wasn't really listening, but it was about a guy. And even though I wanted to throw up and die, I thought maybe if I get these pills, I can be this girl's friend, I can make this work. I can't keep living like this. Tomorrow I'm going to take the pill. It can't be any worse than this.

Shaun/Doug - Family

I haven't posted in a while. Part of that's because my life, as Doug, is strangely ordinary. Okay, it's still a bit weird to look in the mirror and see a stranger, but I've gotten to know that stranger a bit. I know how to handle his business. I don't try to "act" like him, but so far nobody's looked at me and said "Hey, that's not something you would do." Even when that's true.

Work's been stressful too. My boss, the regional manager, put the screws to me to improve business for the holidays. A lot of my staff are teens and twenty-year-olds who don't take their minimum wage jobs that seriously. I'm trying to figure out how to motivate them. Admittedly, I've been more into work than I have the marriage.

I'm not really in this marriage. A lot of the time, when we fight, or it looks like we're going to fight, I just bite my tongue and roll over, where as Shaun I probably would have stuck it out. I hate having to suppress my feelings like that, but like I said, this isn't my relationship to mess up, like the last one was.

Sometimes it's unavoidable. A while back we were driving somewhere, and I was sticking to the On-Board Navigator instead of taking "her" route, even though "I" should have known my way around. And damn did I get an earful. And instead of "Shut up Goddamnit, I've never driven this way before, I'm not even your husband," I just had to shrug and say "I was trying it out."

Another reason I've been avoiding this blog is that I just didn't want to talk about it. One of the comments on it insinuated that I would enjoy "taking advantage" of Nia. Whether it's true or not, it was inevitably going to be an issue and I just didn't want to discuss it. I mean, it wasn't that long since my finacee broke my heart and I wasn't ready to take up with another woman, let alone one I barely knew. If I had wanted someone on the rebound, I might have picked up on the signals I was getting from Lisa back before we transformed.

Of course, Nia doesn't have this perspective. To her, I'm her man, I have certain responsibilities, and if I don't pay her attention she worries, asks why I'm not after her.

I was avoiding the issue. I knew it was on the table, that it was an inevitability, but I wanted her to bring it up, because I wanted to be sure I wasn't going to get in trouble for asking. I didn't want to seem like I wanted it to happen. In part, I didn't want it to happen. I would have been content to be one of those couples that spends every night side by side in bed, breathing softly in unison, until they drift off and roll over to "their sides."

Then one night I was lying in bed asleep when I heard her come in. She tends to work late, this was maybe 2 AM. She appeared in the bedroom doorway, leaning on the frame for support.

"Me and the girls went for drinks. Did you miss me?"

"Miss you?" I said, "I wasn't even aiming!" It was a dumb joke I had with my old fiancee, which Nia just shrugged off.

She crawled into the bed, carefully placing her hand on my leg as if to say "This is mine." She starts kissing me on the lips. I don't pull away - I know I can't - but I don't really kiss back either.

"How long has it been, Dougie?"

"Too long," I sigh, half-honestly.

"I don't wanna be one of those couples that never touches each other. Gimme some right now."

I had no choice but to obey. Doug's body was making me, and Nia's hand was placed in just the right place to be able to tell. "Hello," she said as she reached over my pajama waistband.

As reluctant as I had been, I liked this part of it. She's a very sexy woman, so it was easy to get over my hesitation. I haven't had a woman pay me this kind of attention in months, and the feeling that this was... new, maybe even not totally right, was kind of a thrill. While it was happening, I tricked myself into believing Nia knew me, and not Doug. But when it was over, I felt awful.

Well somehow I convinced myself to do it a few times since then. You know, taking one for the team.

The real hassle is the holidays. For Thanksgiving, I invited Zane over, because he's technically my "sister," and it would be nice to have someone on my side for my first meeting of both "our parents" and Nia's.

Admittedly, Zane didn't seem to enjoy himself much. He was very sulky, as you might expect. And that girl's face has a way of conveying sadness that makes you feel truly awful. It was really awkward to see "our mom" pry info out of "Clara" about her modeling career prospects. I was hoping I could do something to help his mood, but maybe dragging him out to a family gathering was not the right idea. It doesn't help that Nia's got a pretty low opinion of Clara, and asked me not to let "her" come to dinner. But that was one of the few instances where I stood my ground.

She respected it, but there was no lovemaking that night.