Tyler/Lauren: My Crappy Valentine

I was in a pretty dark place on Valentine's Day.

Don't get me wrong, I'm not depressed. There's just nothing good in my life right now. We're between productions with the Drama club, my friends are drifting away from me (or me with them) Meg and I are working through our differences, but far from the best we've been. I'm behind on my homework. I've got cramps pretty bad. I'm rooming with a messy 11-year-old girl and suppressing the desire to scream at her to get her shit put away because it's so inconsiderate and I work pretty hard to keep my little corner of the house neat and tidy.

I don't know whether it's the weather, the lack of a social life, the pressure of school or the female hormones, but I am about to snap.

Lauren turned 18 on January 23. I'm not sure how I'm supposed to feel about it. In the eyes of the law I am an adult, but to the world, and myself. Lauren's still a "kid." 17 and a half is just a stone's throw from 18. I don't look or feel any different, but I know in my bones, this body exists in the world differently than it did a month ago and that's weird. some kind of protective bubble of "childhood" has disappeared.

I asked for gift cards, so Lauren could get some new clothes once she came back to her body, but ended up getting a lot of clothes anyway: clothes had had to be exchanged because family members estimated my size wrong, on account of what I've done to Lauren. For the record, I don't think I did anything wrong, merely took her from emaciated to skinny. At least, what is considered very skinny in the land of Paula Deen butter-fried bacon. I joke, but I do miss biscuits and gravy.

Saturday night was Valentine's Day, of course, and it felt pretty brutal knowing that Meghan was out there rekindling Tasha's romance with Wade. I don't like admitting I can't get over her. I feel like my body is betraying me by pushing all these hormones through me. Whatever I feel for her feels pretty unhealthy, and yes a little wrong, but consider the alternative - and I know there are alternatives.

It was 3 AM that night and I couldn't sleep. I was lying up in bed, listening to Kylie wheeze, when I heard Phil stumble through the door and into his room. I waited about twenty minutes, then crept down there to see the light peeking out from beneath the door.

I stood in front of it for probably a minute or so, my lungs shaking with each breath. I knew there was a huge risk in what I was about to do. No part of me thought it was smart or sane. But I needed to do something. It was like being a smoker again and lying up thinking about getting a cigarette. At a certain point you just need it.

I knocked. He answered quickly and seemed pleasantly surprised it was me.

"Sorry," he said, "Was I loud?"

"No, no, not really," I said. "I just... I saw you were still up... and this is gonna sound really stupid, but I need a friend right now, and you're the only one around. Would you mind if we talk?"

He looked at me for a second like I'd grown a third arm straight outta the back of my head, but he let me in and shut the door behind us.

He laid down on his bed, and I sat against the wall on the far side of the room. He patted the bed next to him, but it was a pretty unappealing option.

"Come on," he beckoned, "You're the one who wants to be friendly."

"Not like that," I said.

"I know, but I can't hear you from back there."

So I went and sat on his bed, back against the headboard, knees up to my chest in a protective position.

"What's on your mind?" he asked.

"It's hard to say," I said, coming ever so close to blurting out the facts about me before realizing how insane it would sound. "How was your night?"

"Shitty," he said, "Almost hooked up, but the girl was a tease. I'm pretty drunk though."

I shrugged at that. As a guy I would have been rooting for him, but in my current position I can see her reasons.

"Do you feel bad that you're not seeing anyone on Valentine's Day?"

"Meh. It's just another day," he said as if it was insane of me to ask.

"Yeah, I used to think so too," I said, "I guess I'm becoming a real... girl." I stopped and snorted a laugh at how I must've sounded.

"Yeah you are," he said, giving me uncomprehending, narrow eyes.

I decided to try to explain. "I had a fight with my best friend. I dunno how to explain it. It was about a guy."

"She stole him from you?"

"More like he stole her from me," I muttered.

"Friend gets in a relationship, you never see friend again," he surmised. "I got it."

"Yeah, basically," I said. "It's more complicated than that... but not really."

"Well, if she's your friend, you be happy for her," he said, lying back on his bed with his eyes closed, as if in a zen trance, "And if you're her friend she'll come back."

"I guess," I said, "I really don't know why I feel so bad. I just always pictured... something different."

"With who?" he asked, clearly confused.

"I don't think he's right for her," I said. "That's all."

"Okay," he said, "I see it now. No offense, but that's weak. Like, let her decide for herself."

"You don't--" I started to say, "Whatever."

There was a silence for a while. He was still lying there, not looking at me. He reached up and put his hand on my knee.

I asked, "Do you have many female friends?"

"Sure," he said, "A couple."

"And were they all just girls you wanted to date but couldn't?"

He paused for a while then answered "Mostly."

"Any girls who wanted to date you, but you didn't want to date them?"

He looked at me with a smirk and said "That's not how guys work."

I grimaced.

Another silence passed between us, until I broke it by asking, "Could you date somebody if it meant never having sex with them?"

"What?" he winced, "What would be the point?"

"Company," I sighed, "Companionship. Shared interests."

He sat up, "Sorry, but no. When you get a bit older you'll see that sex has to be part of a relationship."

I got really annoyed by that "When you get older" bit, but it's not the first time I've heard that. I didn't like his take on relationships, either, but as much as I wanted to believe the opposite I have a hard time doing so too.

"I don't think I'm gonna ever have sex again," I sighed.

"You'll find somebody," he said quickly, looking over at me with a smile that suggested he'd be open to being that somebody.

"You're a good dude, Phil," I begrudgingly admitted, "Sometimes you're annoying, but you mean well. You should probably know this can't happen though." I gestured between the two of us.

He scoffed, "Whatever," and rolled over on the bed. I quietly excused myself.

I went back to my room and turned my phone on. I started scrolling through the old text messages. There were several from Meg, random conversations with Lauren's friends, and Mark. There were a bunch of one-off "Happy Birthday" texts, including one from Wade, which would've been right after he and Meg were having those problems, which I found weird at the time because I didn't think he and I were that close. Still nice, though. I hate that I consider him my enemy, because he is basically a good dude.

Scrolling back a ways, I found texts with the real Lauren, and then, my sister Carrie, coordinating our return to the Inn and checking in on how she's doing with Meg's body.

And then just before that, sitting like a brick at the bottom of the list, is a conversation with "New Tyler."

But I really don't want to get into that right now.

Meg/Tasha: On the couch

Have I ever told you I've screwed up every relationship I've ever had? Of course not. I guess I've been pretty guarded about myself. Sure, I've had some good ones, but in the end it always goes bad and it always feels like my fault. Dating all the way back to the seventh grade when I liked Tommy Fitzgerald but I was afraid to dance with him, so he danced with Ashley Cooper instead and they ended up dating for two years. She was 5'7 and blonde, how could I compete??

(Checks mirror) Oh, yeah. Well, fat lot of good it's doing me. I mean "careful what you wish for," right?

Then there was high school - the garden variety "he's just not that into you" spiel. I always felt too brainy, too snarky, not approachable enough. I was basically April from Parks & Recreation but with cat's eye glasses and a Kurt Vonnegut book tucked in my backpack. Sometimes guys would think I was their dream girl, then get disappointed with the reality of a testy, introverted bookworm. Sometimes I would just fall for the wrong guy.

I was in a relationship for a year and a half when I had the car accident that left me using a cane. Emotionally, I was a wreck afterwards and I really let it get between us. But I think I just used it as an excuse to push him away. After that I had a few disastrous dates - usually I blamed the cane - and then I stopped trying. Then eventually I went to Maine.

In the past month I feel like I've wrecked three relationships simultaneously, as if that's even possible.


Let's start with Wade. When I first met him, he seemed like, well, not my type to put it mildly. Goofy, boyish, bit of a sophomoric sense of humor (and an immature worldview) I thought I was going to be pulling my hair out the entire way. I could not date this person, and I could definitely not pretend to be some airhead just to make him happy. But a shocking thing happens when you plop yourself into a relationship that has already lasted years: comfort. We bickered, but ultimately he let me have my way on things that I was pretty unflexible about (that Tasha probably wouldn't have.) He saw this seismic change in his girlfriend and decided "She's still my girlfriend and I want to make her happy" and that was touching. It made me want to be a good girlfriend to him.

There was a period, from September to December, when I could fake my way through things with Wade. I was happy and comfortable and the sex was fine. (I should note that as Tasha, I'm less sensitive than I am as myself which was actually quite a hurdle to get over.) I was getting almost exactly what I needed, and my best friend was my stepsister who was a man inside. Okay that wasn't ideal but whatever. It was working.

Then came Mykal, the yoga instructor. I got into the habit of going out for coffee with him, since he makes his own schedule and I work nights. We had a lot of really great chats, although his passion for Eastern medicine and spirituality is a bit cheesy. He's still a well-read, worldly guy. But I told myself that there was a line and I would not cross it. As Tasha, I owe it to her, myself and Wade not to screw things up. But if I was smart I would have stayed the hell away. I thought I could have my cake and eat it too. After all, I've had plenty of male friends, and they never had trouble not making a pass at me (see: introverted, not approachable.) Sometimes I forget what I look like, what a smile or a friendly touch on the shoulder could mean to a guy.

And it didn't help matters that the more he turned on the charm, the more I felt butterflies.

And the more I noticed how I didn't feel butterflies with Wade. And then I felt bad about that.

Then one night in January, Mykal was driving me home from the bar, where he had popped in to see me, and we got to my building, and we just kind of looked at each other and decided to do what we both wanted.

We kissed.

And we just couldn't stop kissing.

And I was just so excited to be there that I started playing with his, well, you-know-what... and let him spurt all over the place.

Including, I later noticed, a little spatter that had traveled from his crotch to my pant leg.

Then I crawled into bed with Wade, but I couldn't sleep. I had this anxiety attack that Wade would wake up and decide to look in the hamper for some reason. Or that there was more that I hadn't seen. Or that Wade could smell it on me. So I got up and just started pacing around the living room in tears.

Days passed. Wade didn't seem to suspect anything, but I was pretty reluctant to see Mykal. I was texting Ty every ten minutes, which of course is a no-no because he was in school, and honestly I was abusing his goodwill anyway because, if you've been reading this since the beginning, you might know that Tyler has some pretty serious feelings for me that we've just agreed never to address... which was foolish because I needed some emotional support and he was my only option and that was so, so, so unfair of me.

So I had Tyler getting impatient with my BS, which was fair, and I had Mykal tapping his foot wondering if we were going to become anything, and I had Wade who I couldn't even look in the eye anymore.

So I cracked one night, when Wade and I were both off. I sat him down and started by asking how he felt about "us." He said he thought things were fine. I said I'd been having some doubts. He sat up... he knew exactly what that meant, because he had been suspicious of Mykal for some time.

He flew into a rage, throwing around words like "duplicitous" and "untrustworthy" and spouting off about what he assumed my defenses would have been if I were the real Tasha. I said I had no defense, and he said "No shit."

He told me to get out. I didn't want to go to Paul and Sue's -- there are enough people under that roof and I couldn't face Tyler either -- so I went to Mykal's. The only person I thought would have me.

He let me sleep on his couch, thankfully holding back his obvious curiosity about where that left us, because I simply could not handle any more drama at the time.

The next day he made me breakfast and we talked about what we wanted. I wondered how mad Tasha would be at me if I left her life with a new boyfriend she had never met before. Mykal made a very compelling case for "us," but I told him I owed it to "myself" to try to make it work with Wade.

And he said "Well if you go back to him and it doesn't work, don't bother trying to come back here."

I don't really care for ultimatums, so I told him I would see him around.

I got back to the apartment and stopped at the door. I had to remind myself what I was trying to rescue, not for me, but for Tasha. She obviously loved Wade, she had been with him for years and had a home with him. I couldn't believed I had put it in jeopardy with one careless night. I hoped it was strong enough to withstand this.

I went in and found a bunch of my clothes piled carelessly in the living room. We were not off to a good start.

When I found him, we were both in more of a state of mind to talk, but not by much. I chose my words very carefully. I told him things had been weird with me lately, and he asked why.

I said I couldn't put my finger on it.


He said that wasn't good enough.

I asked if there was any way he could forgive me, anything I could say or do.

He took a long breath and stared off into space. Like he was doing some mental math.

Finally he spoke.

"It was only once?"

I nodded and said an almost inaudible "Yes."

"And you told me right away?"

I shrugged a guilt-ridden "Couple of days."

He nodded slowly. Adding it all up.

"Sleep on the couch for a while, I guess," he said in this wounded whisper. "We'll work on it."

I wiped the tears from my eyes and I reached out to hug him. He hesitated but let me.

He went to work, and I spent the day at home cursing at myself, pacing, excoriating myself because I have more character than that, I'm supposed to be better than that.

The word "Why" rang in my ears for days afterward. That look on his face when I told him things were weird and he asked "Why." Not "why couldn't I put my finger on it," because that goes into the whole backstory of what happened to me and Tasha. But "Why did I do it?"

Why couldn't I just be happy with Wade? Just for a few months? I'm so used to being on my own, and being in this relationship doesn't take that much work, so why couldn't I resist the urge to screw it all up for one measly year?

But I felt that pain of confessing and talking it out with him... suddenly I felt closer to him than I ever had before, as guilty and self-hating as I was. I couldn't stand that I had hurt such a nice guy who was very accommodating to me. I felt the urge to make it work stronger than I had in my entire time in Pittsburgh.

I tested myself, and failed, and became determined not to do so again.

Then I needed to ask... why did he take me back? Why didn't he do the right thing and punish me for my wrongdoing? Why does he think this relationship is strong enough to survive it?

Is it because he doesn't think he can do better? Because of how I look? Is it because he loves Tasha?

Is it because he... loves me?

Maybe?

I don't know, I don't know. Maybe I'm crazy. I'm definitely sick with guilt and still onthe couch after 2 weeks, but we're rebuilding. And Tasha I'm sorry.

As far as wrecking this with Tyler, that's a related issue. I feel like I've taken his friendship for granted with my drama when he's got more serious things going on. When you find yourself fighting with your friend about how to be friends with them, there's a problem. There are things since the new year that he hasn't shared with you, and he hasn't even told me the depths of it, but even so, it's not mine to share.

And now, I haven't seen him almost since this thing went down, and I suspect he's in a lot of trouble but I really don't know what's going on.

But since it could potentially affect me, and the return trip to the Inn, I need him to reach out and tell me what he's got going on. We're in this together, pal. Never forget that.

Tori: Holiday Report

The last you heard from me, things were not great with Boy-X. The relationship, compared to the passion I have felt in the past, felt like a flatline. It was nice to have someone to think of, to look forward to seeing, and to be intimate with, but I didn't feel special about him. I took a stand, let him know I wasn't feeling it, and walked away. He was hurt, he tried everything to convince me to stay, but I was back to the single life. I felt both strong for sticking up for what I wanted, and guilty for hurting him.

Then I spent the holidays single, decided I didn't want to be alone, and texted him, got back to square one, and had to break up with him all over again.

It was a pretty rough couple of months and I probably wasn't in any place to be attempting to force a relationship. Let me tell you about it.

It was Thanksgiving, and Mae was back from college. She brought her new boyfriend, who is a clean-cut little darling. I say new, only in that I haven't seen them together much, but they've been together a while and are living together. (Perhaps jealousy of my little sister is a factor.) Also present were my older brother Ken, his darling wife, and their two (yes now two!) kids. Suddenly I'm feeling like the screwup in the middle, made worse by the fact that I happen to be, in terms of real life experience, older than either of them.

But okay. That's fleeting. No big deal. I'm a pretty-together chick, I've got a fulfilling job and some friends, I still felt relatively stable in my identity despite being surrounded by happy couples.

Then there was this moment that gutted me. And I'm gonna try to explain it as best I can, because I've been spinning it over in my head since it happened.

While Mae was over, we went through some of her old stuff, looking for boxes and knickknacks she wanted to bring to her new home. We started making piles of keeps and donates. Pretty much all the clothes wound up in the donate pile, because she was chubby in high school and has lost a good amount of weight while away from home (she did get the Freshman 15, but worked hard to lose it, plus an extra 20 or 30. Now she's fricking gorgeous.) She marveled at how much had changed in a few years as she tossed aside gifts I had given her back when I worked in intimate apparels and I looked sadly at it as a physical manifestation of the passage of time.

She examined this worn out pair of jeans, calling them "fat pants." I assured her she wasn't "fat" then and she said that standing next to me she felt like a cow, and how I never used to let her forget that I was the hot one.

She started referring to it as my "old personality." My "old self."

I asked if the change was that noticeable. She said yeah, we used to fight a lot, but around the time she turned 17 I started to respect her more and that let her mature too. I said I was glad to have a positive impact on her, and she said "Yeah, you did, eventually."

Then she said "I just wish I knew why that happened."

I looked at her for what must have seemed like an hour, but probably was just a minute, trying to formulate an answer. I knew the truth of course, but I was trying to come up with a response that would make sense to her.

"I just saw what a good person you were becoming and decided to grow up a bit myself," I said.

She gave my this narrow-eyed stare. "It's like you don't even remember how things were. How bad you and I didn't get along when I was 12, 13, 14. Things you did to me, things you said."

"I remember," I said, which was a lie since I only remembered the side Tori shared with her diary, which I hadn't read in years. (Obviously it was skewed towards her but you could tell it was a lot of petty sisterly sniping.) "I feel too guilty to talk about it. I'm embarrassed. I like to pretend I was never like that."

"Sure, yeah," she sighed. "I guess I don't like that you act like it never happened, like we've always been bff's."

"I know we haven't," I said, feeling like I was on slippery ground myself. "There's no reason why it changed, people just do that sometimes. They get over themselves."

I couldn't let go, though, so I had to ask: "Why do you think something happened?"

"It's stupid," she laughed at herself a bit, "I don't even know if you'd remember this, but one time you took this trip up to New England, with some older guy you were seeing, and when you came back, you were... I dunno, in a daze or something. I didn't notice at the time, but years later, when I tried to think of when and why we became close, it came back to around that time, and how you started changing things about your life after that. I always wondered what happened up there? You never saw that guy again and never talked about it. And if it's nothing, or if you really don't want to talk about it, it's fine, I just thought I'd let you know that I saw something in you there that seems... odd. I guess, now that I look back. I don't know, forget I brought it up."

I felt like I had been hit in the face. All these years later, Mae had put the evidence together and drawn the conclusion that Rob Garcia had done something to me - done something to her sister - and while I don't know much about the real Rob Garcia, I know that wasn't the case. I felt like I had to correct her, but...

Well, when this first happened to me, I was told that I couldn't tell anybody, that they wouldn't believe me. I never tested it, because I had nothing to gain. If they didn't believe me, I'd seem crazy. If they did, I'd feel guilty for stealing Tori's old life, for giving up my male one when I did eventually have the chance to get it back, for lying to everyone every day. The idea that I couldn't tell anyone the truth was a comfortable excuse, but now... with Mae starting to put it together, and reaching this troubling conclusion, I felt like not only I could tell her, I had to. I remember reading about that Jessica person, and how eventually she managed to convince her mom, and for a long time I have both feared and hoped I would reach that point. I wondered what I would do if the truth did come out.

It's something I've thought about a lot since that whole business with Alex.

"It wasn't like that," I started to say. "It was just a confusing time in my life, and I'm glad it's over."

She smiled at me and said that whatever happened, she was glad. Tori/Karen, in the off chance you're reading this, I hope you don't take that the wrong way. I like to think you and Mae would have come to terms eventually.

I told her I was glad too, and that felt like the first honest statement I had made all night. If nothing else, I really love and value the sisterly relationship I have forged with her.

Anyway, that scene kind of rolled around in my head all through December... it's been forever since I felt guilty about not being the original Tori, but with Mae apparently eking closer to the truth, suddenly I feel like a thief again. I could hardly look her in the eye around Christmas, and by New Years, I did something drastic with Boy-X. That was a mistake, it didn't work out, it's over now.

So over that I've gotten into something new.

Guys, I got into a bit of a situation. I'm not comfortable explaining it right now, but it's something I feel very strange and guilty about, in a way I haven't since the first times I ever dated men. With Valentine's Day coming up, I may feel the need to spill.

If I can get back to blogging regularly, I will get around to sharing the details, because as private and personal as it is I know you are always there for me. Mwah.

Tyler/Lauren: Space issues

I already kind of didn't like the holidays, but being dragged through them in Lauren's body has been a nightmare. I finally had a break from school, figuring I'd get some time to myself, but no. Friends start making plans to hang out, family drags you around, you start PMSing hard on Christmas Eve, and before you know it it's the week after New Year's and you're back in school. Not to mention all the homework assignments I had due and the massive amount of personal drama I put myself through.

Lauren's laptop broke not long before Christmas, which didn't help matters, and I didn't want to post here on the family PC for some reason. As much as I use the laptop for schoolwork, Paul and Sue consider it a luxury so getting it fixed wasn't on the top of their priorities with all the Xmas expenses - and the rest of their cash tied up in another little project: Finishing the basement.

And you'd think "Oh, Ty, you suggested that months ago, so you could move down there. Sounds great!" It would be, if that was the case but it's not. Just after Thanksgiving Paul revealed he was going to finish the basement so he could rent it out - to Phil, who wants to save some money by not living on campus this semester. Paul's even giving the guy a job at the chicken place.

Phil isn't, like, a monster or anything. He's someone I'd rather not see because he obviously has the hots for me and isn't shy about pursuing it (the whole step-cousin thing isn't an obstacle for him, apparently.) With Mark still occasionally buzzing around, the last thing I need is another male giving me that kind of attention. And since he's all moved in but the basement doesn't have its own bathroom yet, it just underlines the issues I have with sharing such a confined space with so many people (Seriously, every time I have to go someone's already in there. And in Lauren's body, I have to go a lot.)

I have talked to Meg about the possibilities of moving in with her. Neither of us is wild about the idea - explaining to Paul and Sue that I'd rather live with my stepsister and her boyfriend seems like a good way to replay the drama when I suggested taking a year off school. And it's not like they have space for me anyway, I'd basically be crashing on their couch. As nice as it would be for Meg and I to be under the same roof to lean on each other as secret-keepers, it has enough hitches to make it unappealing (to say nothing of the burning in the pit of my stomach whenever I see her and Wade getting affectionate.)

I've thought about approaching some of Lauren's other friends, but I don't want to be a burden, and I don't want to have to explain it, and there's part of me that feels like Lauren is so on the outs with her family that deliberately removing her from their house would just make her more estranged when she gets back.

I get really sad when I look at some of the clothes I can't wear anymore because I put on fifteen pounds or so, and how I'm already not returning Lauren's life in mint condition. It doesn't matter to me, but I know it's different for Lauren.

Jordan/"Deirdre": Anyone seen Annette this morning?

It's probably nothing, but Kareena called this morning saying that she lost track of "Ravi" at the party last night and he hasn't been answering his phone. Benny said he/she never came home, and now he's gone off with Kareena to look for him/her.

Again, it's probably nothing. Kareena said he was drinking a lot, and while Annette may occasionally overdo it - as much as she looks like someone in his mid-twenties, she is still a kid away from home for the first time underneath - what seems like overdoing it to her is something her body can currently absorb. And despite being young, she's pretty together.

But, hey, if she decided to get on a train or plane last night and visit one of the other Inn people, could you guys have her to call? The roommates are worried.

-Jordo

Annette/Ravi: Diwali

God, I've been wanting to finish this for months now! Not leaving for New Year's Eve festivities until it's up!

I've been trying not to freak out about how native Ravi seems to have gone as Gary, telling Jordan that most people try to fit in a lot more than he does after visiting the Inn, but I've got to admit, him not giving me any sort of advice about Diwali is weird. I mean, sure, go right ahead and give a white girl born and raised in one of the most homogeneous parts of the country all the well-deserved crap you want about being ignorant of other cultures, but I'd like to think I'd let someone of a different culture in my body know that Christmas is kind of a big deal, and that I always get my mom fancy chocolates, which is the sort of oversight we're talking about here!

I found out about this whole thing when Kareena calledme up about fifteen minutes after I made that blog entry about her (which had me thinking it was about that and wouldn't that be a thing for a second!), saying my family had called to ask why I wasn't at the house - and we'd get into why I was screening my mother later - because it was Dhanteras and shit needed to be done. I quickly apologized, made some lame excuse, dug out my "how to get to Ravi's folks' house" cheat sheet, and headed in the general direction of Long Island, sending Ravi "hey, what the heck am I supposed to be doing?" emails and texts as well as also trying to swap shifts at work.

It turns out that I should have been helping finish a back deck attached to the Kapoors' house, as a big part of Dhanteras (the first day of Diwali) is finishing up home renovation projects, which is actually a great idea - I suspect a lot of places in the town where I grew up would be a lot nicer if finishing home improvement projects before the family arrives for Thanksgiving was not just a good idea but a cultural imperative! I arrived late enough to just wind up painting, which is good; although I sort of get the idea that Ravi is not necessarily much of a handyman and the curse makes it all but impossible to blow my cover, why deal with a bunch of "you hammer like a little girl?"

Hangin the diyas (lamps) was neat, though, and I loved the rangoli that kareen, Ravi's mother, and his older sister Rekha decorated the front walkway with. Being the only Hindu family in the neighborhood, the Kapoors get a lot of curious neighbors stopping by, but I missed the bulk of that. Which was good, because I had to spend the bulk of the night doing research.

That meant I was really dragging the next morning when they woke me up early for Naraka Chaturdashi, which involves scented oils applied to your head before a bath and a big, early breakfast. And then...

Well, you know how sometimes holidays or other get-togethers become this thing where you have more time than traditions to fill them? It was like that, exacerbated by how Kareena was the only person there I sort of knew. I think that there was some distancet here anyway - Ravi's parents are Hindu people living in America, while Ravi was an American of Hindu ancestry even before I had his skin. Rekha and her mother were talking pregnancy stuff all day, her hsuband Abhishek is not really comfortable in English, and I have not picked up a whole lot of Hindi. It was really a huge relief when Kareena set up the volleyball net - she kicked the butts of all comers, but sports trash-talk is something I can understand, even if I'm the one on the receiving end.

It did sort of force me to get to know Ravi's family a bit; I had been sort of avoiding them for the previous three months. It was weird in more ways than one - I never really knew my father, so I really had no idea what to do with Ravi's, even though I figure that as the two guys in the house they'd be kind of close. But, like I said, he's more of India than America, so he talks about cricket and Bollywood movies and the politics back home, while Ravi appeares to be a baseball and Game of Thrones guy. He's nice, and seems to have plenty of good advice, and Ravi should probably make more of an effort to listen to him when he gets back.

On the other hand, I've always been close to my mom - we weren't quite Gilmore Girls-type friends, but she gave me a lot of latitude, joked with me, invited me along to most anything she did. Maybe Ravi's mother has that sort of relationship with Rekha, but it's not like that with her son. In fact, I felt downright weird, as she would look at Kareena and talk about her like she just saw her as something to be added to her son's life, and that I really should do that faster, despite her being busy at school and Ravi not really being ready to support a family. That's not how my mom would talk about boys with me, and as traditional as she may be, it's not how I expect women to talk about each other. Rekha would intervene on my behalf, but that would turn into pregnancy talk within minutes.

Still, there was a nice meal and fireworks at the end of the day.

The third day was the big one - Lakshmi Puja. It was my first time dressing up in traditional Indian clothes - Kareena had made sure I had a new one - and a lot of friends of the family visited. Much Hindi was spoken, and I suspect some seventy-five percent was wondering why I wasn't married to Kareena yet. Eventually, though, it was just "the family" (including Kareena), and it was kind of amazing even when I didn't understand it. There were a lot more lamps and floor decorations, a ritual that I stumbled through phonetically, and more fireworks. Then, there was a big family dinner, and for all that I may not feel a great connection to Mrs. Kapoor, she made one hell of a spread. Remind me to find good Indian places when I'm myself again.

Sunday was kind of a respite. Padwa is meant to be celebrate marriage - it's kind of like everyone's anniversary - and while a much of the previous days were spent with people treating Kareena and I like we were already married, things got much more casual once we went off on our own and left Ravi's parents and Rekha & Abhishek to their own devices. I saw my first Bollywood movie that day - Happy New Year - and that was something else. Kareena seemed to really like Shah Rukh Khan, and I must admit that he's not terrible on the eyes (nor is Deepika Padkukone). We had a nice dinner, and then went back home after a pretty chaste kiss.

Monday was the last day, Bhai Duj, and that was kind of weird for me. It involved visiting Rekha and a couple of rituals - she did this "aarti" prayer for me, and put a red mark on my forehead - before she made me a really nice meal made up of Ravi's favorites and... Well, I didn't have to do anything but bring her a present. I probably wouldn't give it a second thought if I'd been born Hindu, or even if I was born a man, but it felt really unbalanced, especially since she was six months pregnant and doing all this stuff to bless "me".

Still, it was nice to have some "brother-sister" time. She's a little more into the traditions than Ravi is, but if she was still raised here, so her accent isn't "foreign" and she sort of gets Ravi's situation with Kareena. Marriages aren't really "arranged" in India any more - what looks that way to outsiders is actually much closer to a dating service - but Ravi's and Kareena's respective families have sort of been keeping them in mind for each other since they were very small children, and I gather it's been comfortable - they were pen pals, she came to New York to go to college - but maybe a little too comfortable in some ways. Rekha said that it's great that we were such good friends with our own things, but a good fuckbuddy is not necessarily a good spouse.

(I was a little bit too surprised by "fuckbuddy" suddenly appearing inside the rest of the talk to correct her.)

She was also worried about how her brother was still working retail despite graduating college a couple years earlier, even in a lousy economy, and I reassured her a bit by truthfully saying that I hadn't found an opportunity that really spoke to me in "my" chosen field. She understood, mostly. I kind of get the impression that having settled into her own grown-up life - professional job, marriage, kid on the way - she sees her brother lagging behind and wants to know what's up with it. Fair, I guess, but I kind of figure that my saying I wasn't quite ready for all that was when I best channeled Ravi over the whole festival.

And speaking of Ravi, I only heard from him sporadically during those five days, which makes me kind of sad. I suspect that I only absorbed some small percentage of what I could have (Hindu folks, please feel free to correct what I've misremembered and misinterpreted), but so much was amazing and beautiful that I couldn't see how he could apparently skip it so nonchalantly. Maybe he's similarly excited by his new experiences in Judaism, but, still, he's got a pretty nice family, even if I needed more than a few highly scheduled days to connect with them. Seems like it should have been a bigger deal, is all.

But speaking of big deal event, I've got one to run to now with Kareena - apparently some of her med school buddies throw one I'm not supposed to miss!

-Annette

Meg/Tasha: Black Fridayed

Against all logic, I went out shopping on the weekend of Black Friday. I thought the insanity would be completely over with by Sunday, and sure nobody was exactly getting trampled, but it was still an uncomfortably large crowd of holiday shoppers. Don't people know you can do all your shopping online? Sheesh.

Okay, look who's talking, since I admit to knowing this and still can't resist a chance to hit the mall anyway. But really it's because it provides a nice neutral territory to hang out with Tyler away from our respective home lives. While everyone else was starting to do Christmas shopping, I was mainly after essentials: some beauty products, some cozy sweaters, socks and underwear... a few new bras. Tasha only had a few that I found really comfy and I wore those out but good over the summer. The rest of her supply just hasn't been working for me, and these girls need some support.

So imagine my surprise when, at Victoria's Secret, Tyler starts browsing the racks with what appears to be more than idle curiosity.

"Boy, what do you think you're getting up to?" I ask playfully.

"I'm looking for a Christmas gift for Lauren," he said, studying the selection furtively.

"Right," I rolled my eyes, "Look, if you want to say it's for you, I won't judge."

"No, I'm serious," he insisted, striking this petulant teenage posture, "I've been wearing her body for months now and it's decidedly... fuller than it used to be. I don't want her to feel like I've outgrown all her favourite underthings, because that might trigger some... bad habits, you know?"

"Hm," I said, "There's a certain logic to that."

"Damn right," he said, holding up a red and black skimpy panty set and matching lacy bra. "Should I try this on? Is that... how it works?"

I laughed, "Yes, hon, go try it on over your own underwear."

I walked him over to the change room and called through the door. "Be careful though... I don't mean to sound insensitive, but it might not fit after Lauren gets her--" I caught myself, even though there's not much reason to censor, "After Lauren gets back."

"I've been steady for the last month," he called back, "No major gains or losses... I feel pretty good about this. All it takes now is some discipline."

A moment later, I heard his voice, "Wanna see?"

"What? No, no, that's fine."

"Come on, I need your opinion on this!"

"Fine," I said. He let me in, and there in the little cubicle was this teenage girl dressed in very sexy underwear over her plain white panties. You could see the impression of where she was becoming quite the little bombshell.

I didn't know what to say, so I tried to shift my focus away from how Tyler looked and said "Lauren will probably love it... can you afford it?"

"Sure," he shrugged, slipping the extra layer off, "I've got a fair bit of money squirreled away. The Blanchards won't let me get a job but Sue's not above slipping me a little spending money. I'm just not a spender, is all." He winked.

I tried to look away as he slipped his jeans and top back on: I have already seen just about everything, but I felt I should limit my view as a gesture. "I don't get you, man. Sometimes you're the King of Cool about this, and sometimes you're Little Miss Mopey."

"Hey," he said sharply, "That's Mr. Mopey." Hence, he made sure I kept referring to him by masculine pronouns in this blog.

The stop in at VS was successful for him, not so much for me. So hard to find cute things in this size. Sigh.

We continued as we left the store, "I owe a lot of it to you," he said, "You've been here for me this entire time, and now we're nearing the... well, not the end, but the halfway. Maybe I'm a little prematurely excited. Sue me."

As Tyler gave me the rundown on his Thanksgiving (pretty much the same story as you guys got, with a few extra details,) we went to the food court. Tyler's kidding himself less lately about how much he can eat, but not by much: burgers and fries, but just in smaller sizes. The single burger instead of he triple. He says he gets up at 6 AM and goes running to keep it off. "Beats Lauren's tactic of starving herself."

I tell  him I admire his drive. It took me three months of passing the flyer tacked to the bulletin board at work to decide to sign up for a Yoga class. He scoffed, saying "Yoga's for--" although he stopped himself. I think he was going to say "chicks" but I think he's a little less free with dismissing things in that way lately.

I say he may doubt it, but it's been helpful for me. I don't need to lose much weight, or get stronger, but my back kills me after night after night of standing and walking around that bar, carrying these two huge pieces of luggage in front.

He smiled, "I'm just glad I'm not the one always talking about your boobs."

"These things are so inconvenient," I sighed, "If they were mine, I'd get them reduced, no question." I halfway expected some crude remark about what a loss that would be - Tyler's still a man inside, remember - but he nodded and said he sympathized, that going from a flat pectoral set to even a B-cup overnight changed his perspective: as nice as they look, they're less nice to have attached to you 24/7.

"Well, I'm glad you learned something!" I snickered. He punched my arm. We passed a lotion kiosk and I sampled something.

"Hey, let me try that," he said, getting a dab of cream on his wrists. He gave it a smell and closed his eyes and for a second he looked like he was in heaven.

"You like that?" I asked.

"It's sexy," he said appreciatively, "Reminds me of someone."

I didn't ask for elaboration.

Anyway, I went on to say, the yoga had become a sticking point between me and Wade, because he's noticed certain aspects of my routine that I've set up to minimize our time together. I had this nice little tapdance worked out so that we only hung out about once or twice a week for more than a passing moment awake. So Wade finds out about my twice-a-week activity (sometimes three times) and he says "Oh, you're going to yoga now? Another thing you can do without me?"

And I say "Well, would you want to go to yoga?"

And he says "It would be nice to be asked."

In the end, of course, he didn't, which is a minor relief, because here's the problem. My yoga instructor, Mykal, is, um... really cute. And fun to be around. And generally the kind of guy I would want to date, if I, you know had my own say in the matter.

And I have this really big problem where I get kind of flirty around him. I've been texting him a lot lately, and it hasn't gone unnoticed. It's probably going to lead to a blow-up somewhere down the line if I don't knock it off.

God, I'm a creep. I want it to work with Wade, and we were going good for a while, but damn we are just not clicking that way. He's not my boyfriend, he's someone else's and I'm just filling in. "But don't say I should dump him," I told Ty, "Because we've been over that and you know it's not that simple."

"Fine, I won't," he sighed, probably exhausted with my problems. By this point we were at a boutique and Ty was distracting himself by combing through sale racks. "I have no idea if any of these are any good. I'm never gonna feel like a real woman."

"Is that a bad thing?" I asked.

"It's a thing," he shrugged. I reminded him that having a uterus doesn't automatically give one an interest in fashion and cosmetics. Hell, it's only recently that I started trying, since my messy grad student look wasn't going to get me tips at the bar.

He abruptly moved the conversation back, "You're not thinking of cheating on Wade though, are you?"

"No, no," I insisted. "But you know how hard it is to just keep a man as a friend."

"I guess I do," he sighed. There was a knowing silence between us and then he added, "Besides, if you do cheat, it should be with me."

I rolled my eyes, "Oh yeah, I'm sure you'd rock my world."

"You bet yer butt," he said, lightly snapping a belt at me. I can't believe how bold he is sometimes.

Is it a front? I wonder. All he ever writes about is the crappy times, when he gets hit on by guys or has to navigate school and family politics, when he's on the verge of a meltdown and wishing he could just punch life in the face. Is that the real Tyler, or is it the funny, outgoing guy-in-a-girl's-body that I know? He could be both, of course. But in any case I'm proud to call him my friend.

Tyler/Lauren: Thanksgiving

Thanksgiving was a long day. I wasn't looking forward to it, because Meg couldn't be there, and she's generally my saving grace at these big family functions: she and Wade decided to spend the holiday with his family, given they tend to spend more time with hers. We tend to cling to each other like live preservers in these situations, but I guess we're still here for a while yet, these situations are bound to come up. Besides, I figured, my life has such a high level of background awkwardness I didn't think it could get that intolerable.

It began the night before when Susan told me to lay out a nice outfit. Now, it's true early on in this gig I "girled up" pretty well, to the point of doing that pageant... I was following this impulse to "be" Lauren as best I could, but it exhausted me by the end of the summer and since the beginning of the semester I have been getting more and more accustomed to just not giving a shit about my appearance, from wearing clothes that clearly weren't meant to go together, looking frumpy and un-made-up, and generally not doing anything noteworthy with my hair besides a bun or a ponytail. It was easy and fine to get by with for the duration of the play, when I was working as a stagehand and functionality was a plus, and it had the side-bonus of acting as a shield against guys who might think, if I paid too much attention to my appearance, that it was for their benefit.

(The exception being Mark, who, bless his soul, was seemingly more attracted to my personality... poor kid.)

But okay. I'm making concessions to this family gathering thing, so I can slip on a pair of tights and a dress. Now granted, I don't really understand dresses where the zipper is in the back and you literally need someone else in the room to zip you up, but Kylie helped me out with that. As I mentioned a while ago, I think, Kylie and I have been sharing a room, because Sue and Paul realized that she and her twin brother were getting to the age where one would be menstruating and one would be masturbating and they had to put space between them. I suggested Paul could renovate the basement to the point where I could use it as a room, and it looks like he's been considering it.

We drove about 40 minutes out to an imposing house where we've had a few Sunday dinners since I've been here. I dunno if Paul comes from money or if it's just my upbringing that makes me think these people had quite a bit in the bank.

So I'm there, looking like a floral-clad loser, at the home of these relatives who not only do I barely know, but I don't think Lauren really knows, because again they're Paul's side of the family, where his parents and siblings were hosting the day. I shook a few hands and listened to a few anecdotes, then quietly slipped away. I found an unused bedroom to sit quietly and read the book I brought, Catch-22, which I'm reading for English class.

After about twenty minutes I see the door open and a familiar face poke in. Phil, the nephew of Paul's that I met back during our trip to Erie. And I should mention that at this point, I was so irritated by my clothes that I had actually stripped down and gotten under the covers, figuring - really stupidly - that I could just stay there for a little bit without anyone noticing, then quickly dress myself when it was time for dinner. You'll remember that this is a stupid plan, because I was wearing a dress I just explained that I needed help getting into.

So imagine a simultaneous high-pitched scream of terror, and a gruff male shout of "holy shit!" upon seeing a relatively pretty blonde girl (who is not biologically related) with the covers just pulled up to her armpits.

I threw my book at him and wrapped myself in blankets: "Get out, get out!"

"What the fuck are you doing?" He said, standing against the door with his eyes covered instead of leaving like I asked.

"Reading!" I said, reaching over for my bra. "What are you doing in here?"

"I left my phone in here," he said, gesturing over to a bag of luggage in the corner. "Jesus, what is seriously wrong with you?"

"I don't know!" I said, slipping my dress on, "I was uncomfortable in my dress, so I thought I'd... damnit, forget it. Okay, I need you to do me a favour right now. Keep your eyes closed, but... ugh... can you zip my dress up?"

He was confused, but he obliged, fumbling around my lower back for the zipper (shudder) for a moment. I could tell he was taking his sweet time, too. And then once I was satisfied that all un-seeable parts of me were covered, I let him open his eyes.

"Okay, I am really embarrassed, please tell nobody what you saw."

"Sure, sure," he said, "But the last time we met you were in a bikini, so I'm not sure how this is any different."

I gritted my teeth: there was a difference, but I wasn't really in any place to complain because the whole embarrassing situation was my own doing, and I was right beside myself. "I dunno what I was thinking," I said, trying to force a laugh about it, "I just wanted to get comfortable, y'know?"

"So that's how you get comfy? Get naked at family Thanksgiving?"

"Not usually," I said, "I kinda just wanted to forget people were out there? Like, I don't do well in these situations lately, and I got carried away. It made sense when I started."

"So you were hiding," he said, "And you figured as long as you were hiding, you'd strip down for a minute."

"Yeah, it's... ironically I was more comfortable, at least for the moment."

"Well, now I want to hide," he said.

"No way, man!" I said, "They're your family."

"Your family too!" he was quick to retort. "Your mom's been married to my uncle for what, ten years?"

"More," I scowled, although I couldn't in the moment remember how much more.

"Dinner's still an hour away, and I just can't have any more conversations about my first year at college," he said, "So we're either hiding together, or I'm telling everyone what I saw."

I stared him down. He didn't seem to be bluffing.

"All right," I said, "But I'm really trying to read here so don't distract me."

"Whatever," he said, putting some headphones on "Can I sit on the bed at least?"

I rolled my eyes. "Fine."

And then we just sat there for an hour, quietly, and it was... kinda nice. The first time I met Phil, I thought he was a loudmouth wannabe player who couldn't stop hitting on me. Here he had the upper hand and decided to play nice.

Don't get me wrong, I saw him shift his eyes over to me every so often so it wasn't hard to imagine what he was thinking (I'm literally the only person there not related to him, I'm in his age range, I'm technically "available" and he'd seen most of my body.) So there was still this unshakeable feeling of grossness... which kept flashing through my mind over dinner... I think we covered fine but there seemed to be some murmurs of "Oh Lauren and Phil seemed to be getting along." But hey, what's Thanksgiving without some family awkwardness?

I was lucky in the sense that, as an outsider to the family and a teenager, people are keen to give me space as compared to Kylie and Kevin or some of the other extended relations. I got to enjoy a fairly nice Thanksgiving meal in more or less peace, occasionally thinking back to the Thanksgivings of my youth which were nowhere near this done up and certainly didn't have this many in attendance. Besides all the chaos, it's actually kind of nice to be surrounded by people at times. They're not bad, I'm just within my rights to be bitter about it. The food was good, and I ate as much of it as I could (I'm still grappling with the fact that my eyes are bigger than Lauren's stomach, but we're slowly coming into sync on that.)

After dinner, Phil and I kind of rescued each other from having to put up with prying relatives. I had had enough of my book so we ended up having a talk. He mentioned college not being as exciting as he imagined - a lot of work and not much social life. But he was hoping to become a lawyer and maybe even a politician, so hard work was his lot. I didn't peg him as the ambitious type, but it made a certain kinda sense given his occasionally belligerent personality, especially when we first met.

He mentioned I seemed very distant compared to the outgoing girl everyone seemed to think I was. I gave my stock answer that I was "Finding myself," and mentioned doing the backstage work at the play. That made him scoff: "not a lot of money in that." I told him not everything was about money. He put his hand on my knee and told me I was being naive.

I froze.

His fucking hand. Was on. My fucking knee.

I could see him start to lean in. There was a moment where I could have moved, could have said something, but instead I froze and let it happen. He pressed his lips to mine.

I let them linger for a second and just as he started to increase the pressure from a peck to a full-on French or whatever, I moved away.

My heart was beating fast. My face was flushed with embarrassment. It's easy to imagine what it looked like, a 19-or-so year-old boy planting a harmless kiss on a 17-year-old girl, but remember in reality that boy was kissing a grown man of 30.

"No," I said after it was done. His hand was still on my knee. In fact it was moving up the hem of my dress. I wanted to snap that hand off at the wrist. Despite his size and strength advantage I think I might have been able to do it, too.

"Why not?" he asked, somehow offended, "I thought we were--"

"There's a lot of reasons," I said, "And I'm sorry you got the wrong idea."

I stood and made some distance between us. He stood too - I noticed the distinct bulge in his pants, not that I begrudge him that. He was between me and the door.

I shuffled around the bed.

"Phil," I said in the deepest, most intimidating voice I could muster (which was not very much) "What happens in the next 30 seconds is going to determine exactly what kind of guy you are."

I reached for the door knob. He rocked on his heel for a second as if he was seriously unsure if he was going to let me leave. But he did move away. He asked "Is it because of, like, the family?"

"No," I said with a heavy sigh, "There's more to it than that."

He shrugged like he didn't see my point but was letting me have it anyway. "I put my number in your phone," he said. I just said "Okay" in response because I really did not know what to think about that. As soon as I was out of the room, I marched down the hallway and looked myself in the mirror. A light trace of tears could be seen on my cheeks, I dabbed them away. "Don't," I tried to command myself. Don't what exactly, I am not sure.

The rest of the evening didn't last too long. On the car ride home I kept re-playing the scene in my mind. I wondered what part I played in that little moment. Yes, I had been getting along with him, and maybe there was an undertone of (ugh) flirtatiousness to it. Whatever part of me has been transformed, wherever my interests lie, I have the right to excuse myself from those situations. The logical part of my brain tried to settle me down: "I let it happen, then I stopped it as soon as I felt it was wrong." It should be a clean-cut issue. But there's more to it, isn't there... I just felt, and feel, so sick about it.

When I got home, I looked through my contacts and sure enough, there was Phil. I scrolled past that, though, to "Tasha," and typed in "Hey, how was your Turkey Day?" putting on as much of a chipper facade as I could.

Tyler/Lauren: Wing-woman

I had an invite to hang out with the girls (and guys) tonight, but I don't have the energy. Usually I'm all too happy to go out in the evening, get away from the family, blow off some steam. Granted, even after months living among them, spending too much time around teenage girls makes my head spin: they talk fast, they emote big, they have very extreme opinions about things I know aren't important. It's hard to keep up, but I usually put myself through it because based on what I'm going through right now, that's the closest thing I have to friends, besides Meghan of course. It's important for me to be around these people so that I don't feel like such an outcast among people "my own age" ... as if that phrase means anything anymore.

No, I needed a break, and while they called me a party pooper (well, not in those words: actually they said "weak-ass bitch" but, you know, lovingly) they didn't bug me too long. Only Mark has been texting me updates, and I've been giving him courtesy responses.

Mark. Despite what I said about selfishly keeping him to myself, I had no intention. I thought maybe I would be unenthusiastic about talking him up to Dana, assuming she would think she was too good for him. I'd suggest she give him a chance, but didn't expect to get far with it. I just think he's a good enough dude that he deserves to have, you know, a girlfriend in high school. I know guys who don't date in high school sometimes get, like, complexes about it later in life. I wanted to give him a push.

He had told me I was the first girl he felt comfortable around, that he felt like he could be himself. I told him there was nothing special about me (strictly speaking this is maybe not true) and that girls - the right girls for him if not every girl ever - would appreciate his goofy personality and smarts. If I was going to wingwoman him, I needed to make sure he was up to the task.

I brought him around our lunchtable a little bit. Once the girls had met him a bit, and I had coaxed a bit of group conversation time, let him ease his way out of his shell, I took Dana aside and asked her what she would think if Mark asked her out. She was iffy on the subject, saying she wasn't really into relationships. Fair enough. I expected that, and prepared to adjust my plans.

Then a day later, she amended her statement: "You know, I don't wanna date your friend Mark, but I'd blow him."

I'll never get used to that. I ain't old-fashioned or anything, I know girls who openly discuss sex, but to hear a girl that age flatly say that she'd be all too happy to engage in sexual acts outside of a relationship, without having to be coaxed into it somehow, just didn't add up in the part of my male brain that has always thought women were relationships first, sex later. This little vacation of mine has shattered plenty of stereotypes I hold about women and girls. What's more, it activated the "responsible adult" part of my brain that made me ask what they hell she was thinking offering that to a guy she barely knows. Shoot, I was thinking they could go for ice cream or something (bad example, this weather is not ice cream appropriate! Brr, how do northerners live?) Not third base!

I was going to tell her "Oh if that's all you want maybe I'll find him someone else" but what kind of friend would I be if I made that decision for Mark? 17-year-old Tyler Blake would have high-fived so hard if one of his friends got a no-strings-attached blower from a girl who looks like Dana. I was stuck.

So I excused myself, told him to pursue Dana because "there's potential there" and opted to spend the night in my room wrapped in three layers of blankets. I'm not sick or anything... I've just been grappling with some personal issues stemming from my "double life," and... I don't know, a night off from being "Lauren" seemed inviting.

Hiding from my problems isn't my usual tactic though so I don't wanna make it a habit.

Tyler/Lauren: A month off

Now where was I...

Some stuff has happened in the last month or so since I posted, and yet for a long time there was just nothing to talk about. The production of Oklahoma happened, along with some socializing, but nothing I think you'd be interested in hearing about. Mostly I'm trying to keep a low profile, be a "good girl..." no more picking fights with Lauren's parents, doing my best by her friends, and trying to treat myself when I can. The lack of drama this has caused is a pretty good thing, although it also means I don't bother checking in with you guys much.

There was the situation with Mark, for instance. I was pretty firm with him, telling him "no." I didn't even want to leave any doubt, any hope in his mind that things might change, so I've been very careful to keep a courteous, respectful, almost "professional" barrier between us as we worked toward the play.

It worked and didn't. I should know (and Meg is not shy about reminding me that this applies to me) you can't just switch feelings for somebody off. Mark can respect my feelings on the matter - he seems to - he's all too happy to keep in contact with me, to be my friend. Fine, great, I could use a male friend. But I know he's looking at me, I know he thinks I'm cute and I've got a good body. I know sometimes he's too nervous to say what's on his mind around me. I know that if I said the word - if I were really Lauren and somehow developed feelings for him - he wouldn't hesitate to say yes.

I've made my peace with that, with being wanted.

November 17 2014, the day Tyler Blake admitted he understands teenage boys are going to find him attractive. This, no matter how much I let my appearance go. I don't like it, but I've got to get over it because it's a fact of my life. Let him look me over, let him barely suppress his fawning, let his head turn to glance at my ass as I walk away. I don't mind, I can't mind - as long as he doesn't try to kiss me, we're fine.

I'd like to find him a girlfriend. I've actually had some success at that... I finally hooked Lauren's ex Seann up with Karlee. He made an impression on her back in the summer and then played it off, but she was obviously pretty taken with him. He wasn't exactly waiting for my blessing, he just wanted a bit of fun without any expectations, but Karlee would not shut up about how dreamy he was once she found out I had no problem with her crushing on him, so I convinced him that it would be good for him. She's a nice chick, if a bit dizzy.

Now that leaves me with a problem. Most of my social circle is becoming couples, and I don't want to become the odd person out. I would like to hook Mark up with Dana: they have some common ground, with Dana being the star actress and Mark being a theater techie. But I like having Dana as my single friend, and given Mark's status compared to hers, it would probably take some convincing anyway.

Then there's this really nagging thought in the back of my head, like... it's nice to keep Mark to myself. I'm never going to convince him he doesn't have a chance. If I push him away, I might lose his friendship. What's worse, and weirder, is that it's flattering: this guy I don't hate is interested in me. If I were into it - and I don't see this happening but in an absolutely desperate scenario if things changed and I suddenly became interested... it would be nice to have him around. I don't doubt I could find some other guy's attention... a bit of makeup, a little hair maintenance and the right outfit is all it takes to make me a knockout... but keeping him in my back pocket is tempting. Totally evil but tempting.

In the end, that's why it's better if I do push him away, so I don't take advantage of his friendship or give him false hope that that might happen.

Sometimes I wonder what kind of problems I'd be having if I wound up as a 17 year old guy. Would I hesitate to pursue teenage girls? Would I have as much trouble with my body? Or would I just sit back and enjoy the ride?

Wish I could, but it's a bumpy one.

Jordan/"Deirdre" - We're not a couple!

I just read Annette's last post, and, Christ, she leaves it looking like Benny and I are fucking or something. We're not. Period, end of story.

Still, it is kind of weird sharing a room with him whenever Kareena stays over. Part of it is because he doesn't exactly look like me any more. It's been two and a half months since he and Annette moved in, and he's actually stuck to the exercise regimen he set out, dropping something like thirty pounds. He doesn't look cut or ripped or anything, but his face has gotten a little narrower so that it looks a bit more like my brother's than my own at times. He doesn't have abs yet, but he also doesn't have man-boobs any more. His legs look totally different.

It's fucking unnerving, actually. It's been two and a half months. Figure another six or seven before we go back, and what will he - and then I - wind up looking like? I'll be myself again, but, not. I mean, I see him talking to girls in the park, and they aren't reacting the way they do to me. Annette says it's just sort of being in a transitional stage - that he looks non-threatening but there's a hint of something they like becoming visible. And while my first reaction to that was a pretty reasonable "screw you", I get really jealous seeing it sometimes.

Because, you know, I never really thought of myself as fat. I wasn't skinny, and tended to buy XXL t-shirts, but I always felt fucking normal. Those assholes who grunted when they stood up or overflowed into the next seat on the subway, they were fat, not me! But now I'm watching someone who looks like I should dropping the weight, and while on the one hand I tell myself that I could have done that if I did nothing with my day but run laps around Central Park, and I chose to do more important things, I want that body.

For myself. Not, like, on top of me or shit like that. I was kind of worried about that being the case at some point - I've read enough on this blog and talked to enough others who have switched sexes that I'm sort of bracing myself for my body betraying me on that subject, but I don't think it will be from looking at Benny. Just... Too fucking weird, right? No matter how much weight he loses, he's still going to look like me, and even if he or Annette or someone were to convince me that it wasn't gay, it would still be incestuous or something.

---

It's not just Kareena being around that has had us having to play house a little, though. Annette didn't mention it, but we might be watched.

The real Ravi doesn't post on here any more - he's right into being Gary - but he does email me, every once in a while, trying to get me to come down to Baltimore and join everyone in the "pretend I'm who I look like" thing. Not so much for a while - maybe he's started fucking that skanky ex and decided not to mess with it - but he emails me every once in a while to say what's up with Deirdre's family like I really care. If he's going to do that, he might think to include the private investigator!

For real. The four of us were coming out of a movie the other night and I had to piss because of Deirdre's tiny friggin' bladder (I'd already seen the bit at the end of Guardians of the Galaxy anyway), and some guy grabs my arm while I'm coming out of the restroom, saying that Deirdre's parents had hired him to track me down and bring me "home"!

Not an usher to be found as I started flailing and kicking at him, doing way less damage than I really should be able to, and saying something along the lines of how he couldn't do this. A few more people came toward the restrooms, but either turned away or decided to just mind their own business, at least until Benny showed up.

He didn't beat this guy up - even as himself, Benny may have worked out and gotten in shape, but this asshole did it like it was his job. Still, he managed to disentangle us and stand in between, and when the guy repeated that Mr. and Mrs. O'Connell had hired him to bring their daughter back, he pointed out that I was a "grown fucking woman" who hadn't been kidnapped or anything like that, and if I wanted to be here, that was my decision. The guy asked if he didn't think Deirdre's parents were owed an explanation, and he said, sure, but that didn't mean they could send someone to collect. He pulled me in toward him, and I kind of didn't fight it, and by that time Annette and Kareena had shown up, so the guy decided to back off and probably report his progress to his clients.

What the hell is with people thinking they can kidnap me just because I want to live my own life the way I want? I wrote an angry email back to Ravi when we got home, and he said I should be telling this to "my" parents, but what if they take that as me attempting to "reach out"? At any rate, I've got my eyes out to see if this guy is still watching me or Benny or anyone, and I really hope I don't have to rely on him coming to my aid again like that. It was weird. - Jordo

Annette/Ravi: Kareena

I've got a huge crush on my girlfriend.

Weird thing to write, no? I laughed out loud when I said it to Benny, but I think that's good. The week when I don't find myself saying something that sounds ridiculous is the one where I get genuinely worried, because that means that being a 25-year-old Hindu-American man is in some way normal for me.

Getting back on point - Ravi mentioned Kareena Milothra once or twice in his posts, mostly to say that she was originally the one he was going to be at the Trading Post with, but for her grandmother falling ill back in Mumbai. She wound up staying there until her classes began anew - she's a helpful person and wanted to be with family after the funeral, as one does - and was so busy after she got back to New York that we initially didn't get a whole lot of time to see each other.

Still, she makes an impression. The first time she stopped in to say hi, both Benny and I stumbled a bit. She's tall, lean, a smidge or two lighter-skinned than I am, though not close to Jordan's current paleness, and she speaks English with this accent that is half Mumbai and half English boarding school and all to die for. If she ever wears makeup, then I kind of resent how good she is at making it invisible versus just envying her being gorgeous. Benny and I have come up with a new way to drive Jordan nuts, which is to have long, sexy talks about how an evening would have gone if she had stayed at the Inn, and differing positions or something meant I wound up turned into her and he into Ravi - almost a required condition of the game,as he tends not to give the idea that he could have become a girl much thought. It got a bit uncomfortable when I acted one out by kissing him on the lips, although he said Jordan's freak-out watching almost made it worth it.

I'm kind of glad it didn't work out that way, though, because then I likely wouldn't really have met her beyond just exchanging useful information via email. She finds my "new" interest in Doctor Who a bit surprising, but it's fun because she really likes Peter Capaldi - he reminds her more of the old-school version that her dad introduced her to - even though I don't think the old guy is a patch on Tennant & Smith. She's really sporty - apparently I have picked up right where Ravi left off in her ongoing quest to educate her fiancé on the greatness of soccer and cricket (i.e., nowhere), but she's also become a big Knicks fan. And since our busy schedules don't intersect much (side note: I would make a terrible med student, and I'm not sure whether "gross stuff" or "sixteen-hour days" would be what does me in), there hasn't really been that much time for her to notice I'm acting weird.

Or to do much in the way of fooling around.

Ravi assured me via email that I wouldn't have to do that much anyway; apparently she comes from a fairly conservative family, enough so that if an arranged wedding raises the hundred feminist flags in her head that it does in mine, she doesn't show much outward sign of it. It's still kind of weird, though - we'll wind up holding hands on the subway, and it doesn't feel quite right to have the larger one, or she'll give me a quick peck and I feel kind of awful about not being the guy who she means to kiss. It feels nice to cuddle on the couch, though.

Bedtime gets weird, on the other hand. As much as I've gotten used to being out in the city by myself and not being scared, she's been staying over a lot, and the first time she saw Benny's sleeping bag she wanted to know what was up. I think I stammered something about winning it in a contest at work, but even though she's apparently modern enough to share a bed with her husband-to-be when her family is thousands of miles away, she probably wouldn't have been cool with Benny being there too. After the first time he barged in and freaked Kareena out (I think some excuse was made about him being drunk), I started leaving the sleeping bag in the living room unless she wasn't in. That's the signal for him to bunk with Jordan, which made him kind of throw a fit. As you might expect, he doesn't give one good small damn about whether Kareena wonders why "Jordan" has the couch and "his girlfriend Deirdre" has the bedroom. That hasn't happened in the last couple of weeks, though, after the night that it just didn't make sense to put on an act after the four of us stayed up until two-thirty playing Yahtzee (we are exciting!). I'm not sure what their arrangement is those nights, but I guess they can live with it.

She's been a fun addition to everything going on here, at least, even if it does mean that we're spending way more time pretending to be who we look like than we used to. Here's hoping we don't get lost in it!

-Annette

Meg/Tasha: Try the eggs.

I noticed a shift in Tyler's mood this past Sunday when we met for our usual brunch. He was drumming on the table as if he had some song in his head only he could hear. He seemed to have a bit more pep than usual. I'm not saying the guy's a sad sack, but he's got enough on his shoulders that I usually forgive him for being in an unenthusiastic mood.

"What can I say?" he said as our plates arrived, "I feel like I'm finally making it work."

"Uh huh?"

"School's going okay, the play's fun, I'm even getting along a bit better with Lauren's parents now that I'm out of the house more often. Things are just... clicking, lately, as much as they could be expected."

"And your little friend?" I asked.

"Hm?" he forked some eggs into his mouth, "Who would that be?"

"You know," I said, sipping my coffee, "That Mark kid."

"Oh, you know," he said, averting his eyes to the parking lot out the window, "I handled it. I was straight up with him and he, uh, seems to have gotten the message."

"You handled it," I repeated.

"Yeah," he insisted.

"Just like that, you explained yourself, and now he's over you. That simple. It's over."

"Sure," he said, "Why not."

I took a bite of my grapefruit, then said, "Just like how I told you I didn't want to date anyone when we first met, and your feelings for me evaporated."

The sound of cutlery dropping on the table. He sat back and folded his arms across his chest. His eyes were as angry as I've ever seen them. I felt like I had made a mistake, but it had to be said.

"Careful," he said sourly. I could tell he was trying to deepen his voice, to summon "Tyler" from deep within "Lauren."

"You know how guys are sometimes," I said, somewhat venting my own experiences, "You tell them no, and even if they respect it, it's not like it flips a switch and turns them off you. It takes time, and I'm just warning you here, it may take more than one 'handling.' This isn't like some jock who just wanders up, tries his luck, and mutters bitch under his breath when you turn him down. This guy feels like he knows you, he's working with you, he has a lot of face time with you. I don't think he likes Lauren, I think he likes you. You have a responsibility to act in a way that doesn't lead him on, doesn't make him feel like you're playing hard to get or that you might come around if he's patient."


"Why is that my responsibility?" he said indignantly, squirming in his seat.

I knew he knew the answer, but I said it anyway, "Because guys suck. They're kinda great sometimes, but they suck so much more than they're great. And until you get your old body back, they're not going to leave you alone."

"Don't mention my old body," he said bitterly.

"If I were in your position," I said, "I might have told Mark I was a lesbian. Or transgendered, even. I mean your exact position, not if I was personally trying to... yeah. That's basically the truth for you."

"Yeah," he sighed, "But it isn't the truth, is it? It doesn't feel like the truth."

I waited for him to elaborate on that, but he didn't. He pushed his half-eaten plate away, saying he was now too annoyed to eat. "Tell me something good," he said. "Tell me about things with Wade." I smile, now that we're at the part of the meal where he feigns interest in girl-talk.

"Things are... goooooooooood..." I start to say, drawing out the last word with uncertainty. I'm always wary of playing up the good times with Wade due to the imbalance in Ty's and my situations. But if I overcorrect and complain too much, he starts to wonder why I bother. I think it helps that, the more Ty has spent time with Wade, the more he seems to reluctantly approve of him. He might even like the guy more than I do.

Not hard to see why. Wade's a grown man with no romantic interest in Tyler, because he's got me. Ty is a little older, mature and a bit smarter than Wade, (certainly more worldly since he's been through this, not to mention various other experiences) but the two seem more or less equal and have even found a bit to bond over. Wade's in that sweet spot of being able to treat Ty basically how he wants to be treated, without the baggage of knowing who he really is.

For my own part, it's a good thing I don't like him more, because that could be trouble, but to be honest... things are going well. He's actually noticed how I've been kind of down about this waitressing thing and how I wish I could be doing something else with my life. He offers suggestions, he offers sympathy... it's sweet.

The bedroom stuff is... a business transaction we both benefit from. Sometimes Ty seems like he wants to know about it, but I know he really doesn't.

I changed the subject again to the weather, a favorite subject of his - he can't stop talking about how cold and dreary it's been around here, and sometimes he seems irritated by that - a quick glance at the weather app indicates it's about 80 in Alabama - and sometimes it seems like a fun novelty to have to wear overcoats. He has a particular bit of material about how excited he is to wear long sleeves and layers and have nobody second-guessing his motives. "Scarves!" he laughs, "Who the hell knew?" Um, every woman, sweetie.

I tell him dressing my body is proving problematic. I haven't been as "good" as he has, putting on a bit of booty-weight since we got here. I'm sorry, there's a little curvy girl in me and she wants cake sometimes. I half-thought it would just go to my breasts anyway (not that that would be preferable.) I tell him he's lucky to be so consistently thin, and he admits that's convenient, but we both know there's more to it than meets the eye. We're just not talking about it. Meanwhile between us, half a plate of eggs grows cold.

I asked if he wanted to go jeans-shopping with me and he consented... after all, what else does he have to do?

Sure, he rolls his eyes, but I see him getting nice and cozy with the sales racks. Having learned how to dress Lauren-ish, he's looking to expand, maybe even redefine. He just doesn't have the money to do so. At the very least, it's clear he looks at shopping as a "feminine" activity he is in some way obligated to try learning. He's not, but it's cute.

Tori: Doubts

Some nights I look over at the Boyfriend and I wonder what I'm doing.

He's fine, I'm fine with him, but I'm not nuts about him like I'd like to be. He's good enough company, and the sex has gotten consistent, but there's always a catch. He doesn't love to go out, so we've settled into this really easy routine that appeals to the introvert in me, but makes me a little restless. When I was a guy, I was probably like him, but from this angle I can see why women might not have liked that... and I've changed so that I like being out with people. He says "Go ahead, I'll be here" when I broach the idea of hanging out with my friends, and I feel guilty. We're stuck in this "three dates a week" period, when in other relationships by now I've been eager to see a guy every night of the week.

I try to incorporate him into my life more... we bicker about stuff like that, and I tend to relent since we're both after the same thing. I think about breaking up with him sometimes and trying my luck again, but I just don't have the energy to get back out there... I'm getting some action, why mess with the system?

At the same time, how many times can I convince myself to try to make it work before I give in? Am I just going to settle?

A few weeks ago we had that little blow-up about me leaving some property at his place. Then the issue sort of came back up again the other night when he mentioned his lease was up in November. He's on the outs with his roommate - they work opposite hours so they're constantly tiptoeing around each other - and he doesn't love his neighborhood, and hey, I've got a two-bedroom to myself since Raine moved in with her boyfriend (my promotion allowed me to swing it but it's kind of tight.)

I didn't know what to say. A few weeks ago the guy didn't want me to leave tampons at his place, now he wants to move in with me? We haven't even known each other 6 months, and they haven't always been hot and heavy, you know? This is big.

My gut reaction was no... it's crazy, right? Too soon? But then I started going back and forth. Is this just me giving too much credit to my doubts? Just keeping him at arm's length, trying to preserve this awkward limbo of a relationship instead of going all in? Playing it safe instead of just facing facts that I'd rather be with some other hypothetical person?

I told him I'd think about it, but I was sure to mention it really felt too soon. He kinda sulked about that but tried to backpedal saying it was "just a thought."

What am I doing? I don't like him enough to move in with him, but I'm happy to keep sleeping with him? I let him wrap his arms around me and sometimes I just want to break free, and sometimes I want him to keep holding me forever.

I need a sign.

Tyler/Lauren: Mark

So I was invited to this party on Friday night by my friend Mark, who I've gotten to know since signing up to do tech stuff for this theater production of Oklahoma. We've worked closely enough together that I feel like he's an alright guy, but at the same time, I'm not an idiot. I know he pushed for me to come along because he's probably nursing a bit of a crush on me. I've been in this life long enough to know that boys look at this body with desire.

I can't blame them. I don't encourage them - I dress modestly and act pretty neutrally toward them - but I know that guys at that age are capable of taking any remotely positive interaction and turning it into an infatuation. Now, I've been hit on casually, I've had my looks remarked on, and I've been called a bitch for turning guys down. It doesn't bother me. These guys are nothing to me, and the plan to keep them at arm's length was working.

Then Mark.

Mark is a good dude. He's not overly macho, he seems respectful. At first, I paid him little attention, the way I do all the guys around here, but I guess you can't have the barrier up 100% of the time, and he caught me on a good day and we got to talking about music, which led to a really nice conversation about Queen. The only reason I could tell he had a crush on me is because he went out of his way to hide the fact that he had a crush on me, making any threadbare excuse to make conversation with me that he could, and I got to feeling safe around him so I let him. Dang.

Eventually, I caught onto what he was thinking, and it wasn't hard. He started to seem pretty clearly nervous when we'd be one-on-one, and then there was his insistence that I go to this party. And I feel for the kid, so rather than no-show (and basically torpedo my chances of being "in" with these people,) I went. I guess I'm just a social guy at heart.

Friday night, I stressed over what to wear. I wanted something comfy and un-provocative, so I ended up with a black t-shirt under a grey cardigan and jeans. No make-up.

I went over to the girl whose house it was with Dana, my friend who's the female lead. I didn't feel comfortable arriving alone because not only do I not really know these people, I don't even know if Lauren really knew them much, they certainly don't seem to have thought much of her. There was various people from the cast and crew, a few beers and some liquor going around, but it wasn't some crazy drunken madhouse. It was just a lot of deflated kids playing video games and drinking games under the roof of a set of real permissive parents.

Mark noticed me as soon as I arrived - he had been playing Xbox and passed the controller to someone else to greet me. Yeah, subtle. He offered to get me a drink, and I said I wasn't sure if I was going to drink tonight.

I'll address the alcohol issue right now... for obvious reasons, I have indulged a fair bit since I've been here. I try not to get trashed, especially since Lauren's little body can't candle it the way my real one can. But that's on my private time, mostly, with Meg or "the girls." While I don't really have much problem with underage drinking, actually participating with them seems as inappropriate as dating. Still, it was a tough social situation, and maybe if I was feeling tense I could get a beer later.

Mark and I hung out near the fringes of the party, and we had a conversation that kind of danced around the topic. I gave him a chance to come clean by asking him what girls he was into, and he played it off like he didn't have anyone in particular in mind. I said there was plenty of girls at the party, and he said "Yeah... there sure is" kinda half-heartedly. Then he picked a loose hair off my sweater.

I officially needed a drink.

Once I had one beer's worth of confidence in me, I decided it was time to drop the hammer. I asked him if he wanted to take a walk, and of course he did. Once we were out of the house, he got real quiet, and I took my opportunity.

"Hey man, just so you know," I said, "I know you're into me."

He was flustered. "No, what? Um, I... yeah, a little, I guess?"

"I'm not gonna lie," I said, "I'm flattered as hell. You're the first guy I've met in a while who doesn't suck. I mean that. But I'm really, really not the girl for you. I'm just... not in dating shape right now, you know? It's not about you, it's just me."

He took a moment to process this. "Is this because of what happened last year?"

Now "what happened last year" is something I know about but haven't said much on this blog, but maybe later if I'm comfortable, I'll tell you some more of Lauren's backstory. But everyone at school know it.

"Partially," I said, "I mean, it's a complicated thing, there's a lot of reasons. But I want to be your friend. Hell, I want to help you find a girl. I just need you to know that between you and me, this isn't happening. Are you okay?"

Another long pause, "Yeah... I guess I'm okay."

We got back to the party, and Mark gave me some breathing room, although the mood was changed between us. He seemed to sulk, and I felt bad, but it was beyond me control. This was the first guy I've had to turn down that I felt guilty for, because I think if I was really the girl he thinks I am, he would've been in good shape. Then again, it's not like the real Lauren would have given him a shot either, so it's kind of a mercy.

I went home with Dana and slept in her bed, but I was up all night wishing I was still a man and that she was a grown woman. The events of the party haunted me for the rest of the long weekend.

The worst part for me is that I halfway considered it. Mark's a harmless enough guy, and we get along fine considering the age gap. He would probably worship me, and that would be my defense against other guys. And if I told him I couldn't do certain things, he'd probably respect that because he'd feel lucky to be with me... but he wouldn't be lucky, he'd be screwed. Because whatever I think of him is really the most non-sexual, platonic friendship I can imagine, and I know he's thinking of me on a whole other level. Whatever would happen between us would purely be using him, deceiving him, completely disregarding his feelings.

And look, I tease Meg sometimes for continuing Tasha's thing with Wade. He's a decent guy, and if she has no problem with it then I don't (or at least, I try not to.) She was put in that situation and she wants to do right by Tash. Me, I want to do right by Lauren and that means no. And I want to do right by Mark, and that really means no.

He should do fine. He's tall and thin, and he's... I dunno if I'd call him handsome but he's got okay features I guess? Look, I'm new at this, and I still don't know what I'm into. That's not a joke. All these kids look like, well, kids to me, so to even suggest I'm attracted to any of them is out of the question, and while that goes doubly for the guys I'd be lying if I said it didn't apply to the girls. As much as I enjoy the company of the girls, and can see how pretty they are, I'm not exactly tripping over my tongue around them either. I've been in the company of girls in gym class (and overnight stays) and all I see are these half-formed bodies that are close facsimiles of adult women, but not quite ready for the world. That includes my own appearance. There's urges... and a lot of loneliness... but that's fighting my rational side, which knows it's smarter to say no. It's hard to feel sexy, or to have sexy feelings for anyone else, when you're stuck in the middle of this.

Tyler/Lauren: Theater

So, I haven't posted much lately... I don't want to say it's because life's gotten soooo busy, but there's definitely a little less room in my life to sit down with the computer and rattle it all off. I'm spending more and more time at school helping to work on the play (which opens November 6) and when I come home, I don't exactly have much personal time and space. I still share a room with Kylie, and if she's around... I don't know, I feel downright odd sitting here going on about how I'm a grown man in a teenage girl's body. It's the truth, but the moments where I face up to it, I kind of want to be alone.

Being involved in this play, even in sort of a tangential way, has been pretty good for me. It gets my mind off of things and puts it toward things I can put my hands on, although it was a bit of a rough start. When I first arrived for the meeting, everyone there looked at me like I was lost. "What's she doing here?" Lauren is known to be the type of person who would rather be on the stage than doing the heavy lifting. But I've decided for the time being that the limelight isn't for me... no singing lessons, no pageants, nothing that puts me in the position where a large group of people get to judge me.

I'm slowly starting to get into he theater culture around the school... wearing "show blacks," painting sets, helping to acquire props. I've become sort of an all-purpose "go-to" girl, since most of the six or so kids volunteering already had jobs they were good at, I've been going where needed, and doing my best to troubleshoot. I asked if I could help do the lighting but apparently that's a specialized job and obviously I'm not ready for it yet... although I think the girl who is doing the lighting is very protective of her position.

In fact, the "techies" are quite a very tight-knit bunch. I guess that's the thing in high school, you find out who is into the same thing as you and you don't let go of them. Most of them have been working on productions together for years, and I'm the interloper - again, I seem to have floated down from another part of the school, and while the cast and crew mostly get along, there's still an unevenness, like the techies make actor jokes, and the actors ignore them. Since one of my better friends is the female lead, I have to be careful.

One of the guys, Mark, asked me about that while we were painting a backdrop to look like a farm. "Why didn't you audition? You usually go out for these sorts of things. Hell, the way you've been doing a southern accent lately, it's like you were trying to get into character."

I wanted to answer that. I thought I was losing my accent, nobody seems to comment on it lately. But instead I moved on. "It... seemed less stressful this way," I stammered, "I've had kind of a hard year."

"Oh yeah? What happened?"

"It's personal," I said. "Really personal."

"If I bring you liquor for the party Friday night after rehearsal, would you tell me about it?"

I groaned. "I can get liquor from my big sister... and I wasn't planning on going to the party Friday night." I didn't even know they were having one.

"Oh come on," he said, "Everyone's going. You gotta."

I bit my lip. "I dunno, I'm trying to keep out of trouble."

"Come on," he said, pleading but in a nice way, "You'll have fun."

I doubted that. Parties are very stressful for me lately. I worry about my own behavior and everyone around me... I understand kids will be kids, yet as an adult with a good sense of what can go wrong, I'm never really comfortable. As much as I misbehaved in my teens and never worried much about the consequences, as an adult that'd kind of all I see.

But they're going to do it anyway, and my alternative is sitting at home watching TV with the parents. I'm in this situation, I have this social group, I should probably embrace it, or else I'll just go on moping about it. It's never as bad as you think.

"Maybe," I said.