Jonah/Krystle: Holidays and After

Lane talked about the difficulty of finding a good dress to wear to church for Christmas services, and I can sympathize - Krystle seemed to also mainly buy dresses of the tight and low-cut variety, and truth be told even the ones that don't really seem designed that way sure seem to wind up like that thanks to her proportions. The others tell me that I'm over-thinking this, and that it's just me thinking my chest should be flat. I guess that could be the case, but I feel guilty all the time, like just standing there is an invitation.

I did find something fairly modest to wear to Christmas Mass, although there were moments when I wondered if I really was overly worried, because a lot of the women there were wearing kind of showy dresses. I kind of always thought that was just something that happened on TV and in the movies, although my grandfather once mentioned that it was kind of a thing at the church in his hometown - that because it was the community's main gathering place, men and women were always trying to get each other's attention there without exactly undermining the fact that it was a place of worship.

I was reminded of that when Pastor William came up to me after the service and said it had been too long since they'd seen "me" there, and asked if I would be attending services regularly. I must admit, I was ashamed of how easily that seemed to fall by the wayside after visiting the Inn. I don't know whether it was because I always went to church with my family and just got lazy being on my own (or with Krystle's family, who are not regular church-goers) or if I felt forsaken afterwards. I know this man was asking about Krystle, who had been stripping and living with some man who was not her husband and maybe doing drugs, but it was a reminder of how nobody is beyond saving, no matter what circumstances bring you to a low place.

I said I probably would, and it felt good. I have been going beat every Sunday and enjoying it, especially since this was the first time I really remember going to a church whose congregation was primarily African-American on a regular basis - I've been to my other grandfather's church every once in a while when we visit, and when I was a really little kid, but it has been something different from the mostly-white places where I've lived most of my life. It's a little strange to have spent all your life as "the black kid" in school and have to kind of get used to not being the only black person around.

My going to Mass had the family a little surprised. Karla's kids had questions about it, and she injected a lot of suspicion into her answers. I guess I can't really blame her - I probably don't act much like the Krystle she knows - but it's frustrating. Who needs to explain going to church on Christmas?

It had the kids impatient about opening presents, but they knew that they were going to have to wait for Momma Kamen anyway. Krystle's mother works for the MBTA, and she takes a lot of weekend and holiday shifts so that her schedule doesn't duplicate Karla's and so that she can get overtime pay. It helped make Christmas a little less meager for the kids, as did my being able to get an employee discount at the toy store. There was no "big present" like I got used to, and I felt bad about that. I may have wound up having too much the same relationship with Karla as her real sister, but her kids are great and deserve more than they have.

Speaking of Christmas, I had the hardest time figuring out what to get Karla and her mother.  Well, Karla; I got Momma Kamen a nice set of gloves that you can use a phone while wearing, since she's outside a lot and texts back and forth with Karla, me, and a lot of other people, so it seemed pretty practical. It didn't seem entirely like a surprise that Krystle would get her something like that, so I guess I did okay.

I had a little more trouble with Karla, and not just because everything seemed like it would be taken as a challenge, and it seemed like every person I might ask wouldn't really know - my friends are all men who used to be women, women who used to be men, folks too young to have perspective on what a single mother values, or just more well-off than us, not really getting how much is out of reach. I wound up kind of giving up and getting her a gift card from Sears.

She got me something lacy from Victoria's Secret, and I still haven't even tried it on to see if it fits in case the real Krystle still wants to wear stuff like this when she gets her body back. I feel guilty just feeling the fabric on my fingertips.

Of course, Christmas coming and going meant that the temporary toy store where I was working closed down, and while the manager gave me a good reference, I probably should have been looking ahead to the next job even while this one was winding down.

I didn't quite go unemployed for the past couple of weeks - Yuan-wei/Missy/Jordan gave me way too much to come by her place every few days while she was in Hong Kong for Christmas break and make sure that the mail got brought in and that her plants were watered (no, she doesn't really strike me as someone who would have plants either, but I didn't ask what the story was). I've tidied up a bit and shivered at the thought of taking a job as a maid before thinking that the only people who would hire someone with Krystle's history for that would probably just want to see her in (and out of) a uniform.

I don't really get Yuan-wei. I've only met her a few times and she's been a real jerk about my believing in God, she's totally shameless about being with men, even though you can tell from just being around her that she's still one at heart. She will talk about how much she misses her family after just a couple of drinks - either she or Benjamin really shouldn't be drinking when he brings a six-pack over, right? - but she basically gave that family away.

And she also remembered my real birthday, December 28th, making sure that when I arrived at her place that day, there was a package waiting for me, with a pair of Nike Air LeBron XIII basketball shoes, with a promise for another pair when I "outgrew" them this summer. I put them on right away and they're fantastic; I wanted to go out and find a game despite it being really cold and not wanting to imagine what sort of attention I'd get without an industrial-strength sports bra (just running for the bus without one is no fun at all).

Still, they're great and I'm so grateful, even if Karla's reaction on seeing them was to wonder who I'd slept with for them and to ask since when I cared about basketball. That just makes me appreciate them more, though - they reflect me, not her, and they mean that someone understands I'm a now-17-year-old guy rather than a 23-year-old woman, and I really can't wait until I am again.

-Jonah

Jordan/"Missy" Yuan-Wei: Play-acting Part I: Here

I wasn't really inclined to write much about the play I was in because it was kind of anticlimactic at the end.  You spend weeks getting together with a bunch of people, reading, rehearsing building shit, working on costumes, and for what?  For three nights, you go out on stage, say your line, run backstage and get into another costume, stand around in the background, maybe say another line, and so on, and then you're just done and the whole thing is gone.  Maybe someone has mounted a camera in the back of the audience area, but it's one hell of a lot of work to just vanish into the ether.

So I was just going to skip ahead, but Benjamin told me I had to blog about it.  If you're going to live Missy's life and be a movie star, she says, you're going to have to learn how stories work, and you can't keep mentioning something like this play and then not have it pay off.

So, fine.  I was in a play, even if it was a tiny part.  And, okay, that didn't make it any less stressful.  In fact, the first time I went our on stage, I nearly pissed myself, because for all that the rehearsal and shit is supposed to make everything second nature, standing in the wings and seeing that there's a fucking audience out there made me suddenly realize that while the original Yuan-wei had probably been doing this all her life, I hadn't done anything like it since, I don't know, junior high?

I mean, shit, was this the reason she decided to give up all of this and stay with Ronan?  Wanting something all your life and realizing that not only does it mean standing in front of a whole bunch of strangers and trying not to screw up, but knowing that even if you completely kick ass, you'll still be judged in large part based upon what a while bunch of other people do?  I didn't quite freeze like I thought I was going to, but even though there was a lot to do backstage, I did have just enough time to wonder if I was going to make it through.

I did, three times, and I probably got better as I went.  The thing that kind of sucks about acting is that you almost always feel the same way no matter how you actually do.  Even as I was nervous, I was still kind of like, yeah, I fucking did that, whereas some of the other folks were sure they sucked even when those of us in the wings could see that the audience was just goddamned living it.  It's not like working with computers, where you can tell whether the routine you built was giving the right output or whether the change you made ran faster or used fewer resources.  Your feedback is mostly subjective and sometimes kind of indirect.

Not always.  What my adviser said at the end of term was pretty direct - that most of my instructors said I was performing a bit below the standards the original Yuan-wei had established the previous academic year, and what she saw from me during the play kind of confirmed it. Heck, she said, the very fact that I had such a small role was disappointing; someone with my talent and ambition should really be winning leads or at least strong supporting roles in auditions. This is a very competitive program, she pointed out, and a lot of my follow students who had to rely on financial aid might be looking at moving to a new school or major after two semesters like the one I just had.

Of course, this wasn't entirely news to me; I'd heard a lot of the same shit whispered at the wrap party. Sure, it was mostly dancing, drinking, laughing about how disaster had nearly been averted or stuff like that. But every once in a while, I'd be walking by a group and they'd stop talking. For most of the night I tried to put it out of my head, all too aware of how a pretty girl who thinks everybody is talking about her behind the back they're planning to stab is a cliche and even when it wasn't, I'd always hated those bitches.  But eventually there comes a point where it gets just quiet enough to overhear conversations, and I heard one about how for someone who wants to be a Pan-Pacific movie star, I had better start showing something, then another joked that even that wouldn't help, because they blur your boobs out in China.  Then Amelia, the one who helped me with my Halloween costumes, called me a helpless princess who didn't know how to do anything, and it was a kick in the gut, especially since I didn't think it was like I started ignoring her once I'd gotten what I needed, but clearly she felt that way or was just trying to make nice with one or another of the others, figuring that other Americans are going to be able to do more for her in the future than a woman in China (we'll see about that), but it soured the evening pretty well, and I headed to the bedroom to retrieve my coat. I was rooting through the pile on the bed when Ernesto found me and said he'd been trying to get me alone.

I asked why, and he said it was because everything had finally clicked into place for the short film, which would be shooting in late January if I was still interested. I'd have to work on makeup and effects as well as play the lead...

It was just what I wanted to hear without knowing it, and I hugged him. Shocked the hell out of me; I know is done something similar at that ballgame with Benjamin, and wondered if like it was some hormonal thing with Yuan-wei's body or if I might have been like that if I ever got drunk enough as a guy.  All that bulk maybe made me not react so demonstratively to alcohol, or something.

Especially since I didn't feel that drunk, although I did start acting a bit again, letting myself go weak in the knees. "Ooh," I said, "I think it might be a good idea if you walked me home."

I kind of want the order of events clear: I got the part, and then I led Ernesto to my place and asked him if he wanted to come up.  I suppose he may have been hoping for this response, but apparently I'm not exactly noted for my gratitude. Anyway, he got nervous when he saw just how nice my place was, initially not following me into the bedroom until I said I needed help getting my boots off.

That wasn't entirely a lie; I fumble with tiny zippers under seams even though I now have fingers more suited to them.  It gave me a chance shuffle forward on the bed and let my dress ride way up and then, when he had gotten the second one off but hadn't yet stood, I could fall forward so that I was straddling him on my knees while he fell back.

He knew what to do with that situation, unzipping my dress and helping me pull it over my head and off, then doing the same with my bra.  He then did some of the bra's work, spring my breasts and then going after my nipple with thumb and forefinger, which felt pretty great.  I decided to do my part, not-quite-sitting and sort of trading him with my ass, making contact right around his waist, just above the groin.  It seemed kind of silly, but he apparently liked it, because I could feel him getting hard.  I slid down his body, pulled down his pants, and then kind of stopped four a moment because his dick was right there.

It would have been stupid to chicken out at this point - I was wet and knew what I was in for - but with David and Sam, it had all been happening "down there"; I wasn't ever positioned so as to have the fact of some guy's unit right in my face, as it were, and though it's been over a year since I've had one, the "dude, what do you want with another man's cock?" reaction is still there.  That's when he tossed me the condom.

What am I supposed to do there, kill the mood by telling him to do it, or back off?  So I put it on, as fast as possible, and then moved up so he could put it in my pussy and I could just think of it as kind of an abstract good feeling, although it was kind of harder, since Ernesto is a much hairier guy than the others and I could feel his beard as he was kissing me.  It was kind of unnerving, really, and when he asked me to see if I could get him up for another, I decided to be the hot girl who sets the terms and tell him I was ready to knock off for the night.

And he was cool about that, but I couldn't fucking sleep at all that night, and was on edge for the next couple of weeks all through finals, since he's in a few of my classes, and while he hasn't acted like it was more than some really physical fun,  It certainly made spending the holidays on another continent more appealing, although it's going to be kind of weird when we start shooting his short film in a couple of weeks.

-Jordan/Yuan-wei

Lane/Kari: Feliz Navidad

HA! Now that song is stuck in your head. I've been trying to avoid Mexican stereotypes these past six months to prevent accidentally defaming a culture I don't really belong to, but I'll be damned if Kari's dad doesn't LOVE that song. I must have heard it two dozen times while I was over there for Christmas.

That's what I've been doing these past few weeks, celebrating the holidays with my temporary family and trying to make the best of it. I know the timing of the absence is a bit troubling, since my last post was all about dealing with the fallout of my rendezvous with Kari's boss, but I assure you all I didn't fall into a black hole of regret and shame and give up on posting in this blog.

Work has been different since I started sleeping with Latherman. I won't say "better" but "easier" would be a good term for it. Not the work itself, answering phones has always been easy, but I'm definitely getting preferential treatment and a lot of slack around the office, much to the chagrin of my co-workers. I feel kinda bad about that, especially since the whispering and gossiping have started back up again. But at the point where I'll be gone in a few months I'm ready just to ignore all that and just coast my way back to Maine.

Speaking of which, reservations for the trading post start back up in a few days and I've got some cash for a deposit, thanks in part to my Christmas bonus. It was 750 dollars, which I'm not sure is high or low for a receptionist. It doesn't even compare to what I got as a bonus from my real job, but I won't go into too much detail about that because I know Wall Street bonuses can be a bit of sore subject.

I was the one who passed out the checks to all the employees at the Christmas party, Latherman had me do it while wearing a ridiculous Santa cap but people were drunk enough that it was far from the most embarrassing thing that happened that evening, although Latherman got pretty sloshed and almost kissed me on the neck in front of everyone else, which I prevented from happening. I think he and Kari's affair is a bit of an "open secret" but to have undeniable confirmation of it would make things at the office complicated. He did have his hand up my skirt for 5 minutes by the copier later, but nobody else saw that.


Christmas

Ashley and I headed over to Kari's parents' house Christmas Eve, the plan being to spend the night there after going to church on Christmas Eve. That left me with the odd task of picking out a "church dress". I knew how to look like a business woman, and I knew how to look like a party girl, but I had to do some searching for something that wouldn't be too scandalous in a place of worship. I finally found a nice green dress that went down past the knees and didn't have too deep of a neckline, although it did have a plunging backline. A nice pair of black nylons and flats and I was able to look like a nice, respectable girl.

Church in and of itself was a bit weird, not in the least because it was at midnight. I'm much of a churchgoer, nobody in my family is. Kari isn't except for Christmas and Easter when she goes with her parents and they ARE churchgoers. I won't go into too much detail because I know religion can be a touch subject, but my take on God the supernatural has changed a bit since being magically changed by a cursed hotel and it was a bit surreal being in a church again.

We got home at about 130 Christmas morning and Ashley and I curled up on the futon near the Christmas tree while I put "Bad Santa" on Netflix. She had never seen it and wondered why her mom had suggested such a raunchy movie, but she laughed anyway. (As well she should, I watch it every year and it's hilarious).

I have nieces and nephews and cousins that are younger than me that live around my parents house, so my entire life Christmas morning has started as soon as those kids wake up. With Ashley being the youngest Cruz in the house and being the age when teenagers sleep forever, Christmas morning didn't start until about 11 when she walked in to the kitchen all groggy to Pilar and I having hot chocolate.

Experiencing someone else's Christmas is an exercise in acting. Imagine the feeling when you get a gift you don't like from someone you do like, and you have to feign happiness to show appreciation, and now imagine having to do that for every gift. I've been a 30 year old woman for half a year now, but I still can't really be excited about clothes, gift cards to stores I don't shop at, perfume, make up, and other beauty products, although I did express gratitude and gave tons of hugs. Ashley got me a gift certificate for 5 free mani/pedis for two people.

"I saw that you haven't gotten your nails done in awhile, so I figured you could take this and go with Aunt Rosita or something."

"Or we could go together" I offered. She smiled. I personally have no interest in sitting and getting my nails done, but part of the reason I don't get them done is because I don't see it as worth the money. Ashely noticed her mother's sacrifice and made a heartfelt gesture, so I figured some bonding time was in order. I'll probably leave them until after the switch back so the real Kari can enjoy time with her daughter.

That thoughtful gift and moment happened before I gave Ashely her main gift though. Me and Pilar had gotten her a bunch of clothes and girly stuff that Kari had been consulted on, but shortly after getting that bonus check I got something else. The bonus wasn't enough to cover my entire trip to Maine but it was more than enough to make a deposit on the rooms to reserve them. There was still a couple hundred dollars left over so I headed to a small electronics shop and picked up a laptop. It's not top of the line or anything but it will work as a Facebook and Instagram machine, which is what she uses it for as well as any school research. She squealed with joy and as she hugged me I was happy too, because this was also a gift for me. I'm typing here on the old laptop that I no longer have to share, and thus not have to worry about a 16 year old stumbling upon something she doesn't need to see or some bizarre search history. Or even worse, letters from Latherman.


New Year's Eve

But the reason I decided to blog today, rather than just give you all the Cruz Family Christmas Letter, was because something...interesting happened on New Year's Eve. Rosita and I got all dolled up and went to one of the bars in in Trenton, which was packed because not only was it one of the biggest bar nights but it was also the day of the college football playoff, and one of the teams had a large local following.

I was wearing a pair of tight black leggings because it was cold with a matching black blouse that combined with my hair and makeup made me look a bit evil...but in a sexy way. I was getting a lot of compliments and free drinks, since MSU wasn't doing to well people started to drink more.

I was about three margarita's in and doing my thing on the dance floor when I heard a familiar voice call out "Kari". I turned around and saw Darius, smiling and nursing a beer. Darius, if you don't remember is the brother of one of Ashley's track teammates and he asked me out for coffee. A while back one of the commenters asked how that went and I never really went into too much detail because ultimately it was just that, coffee. But we've hung out a few times and we text regularly and we've become friends. He doesn't get a lot of air time on this blog because I write here to cope with having to deal with Kari's life and Kari's friends, and Darius is exclusively my friend since he's never actually met the real Kari.

Being glad to see him, I walk/danced my way over to him and gave him a hug. I've learned that girls greet people they like with hugs, and I've started doing it as well because it does feel kinda nice. Although I was tipsy and I may have lingered a bit longer and pressed my boobs a bit. Darius was there with some friends to watch the game and then ring in the new year. I introduced him to Rosita, who remarked out loud out cute he was. He introduced me to his friends, who were a bit amused at Rosita practically throwing herself at them. I'm not saying she's a gold digger, but when Rosita sees a guy in expensive clothing she kind of...nah she's a bit of a gold digger.

As fun as it would have been to join the guys at the bar and talk sports and just hang out, I split my time between their table and the dance floor. What can I say, dancing is fun! I was awkward and weird about it when I was a guy but now I kind of like just going out there and letting loose and the attention can be fun too, as long as you're careful about it. I've gotten better at watching my liquor intake, but it was a special night and when people hand you champagne and you're in the energy it seems like a great idea to take it.

Somewhere around glass 11 or 12 the countdown to midnight started and I was at the bar near Darius when I joined in in the loud shouting of numbers. When 2016 struck people all around were kissing and I was so caught up in the moment I reached up, grabbed his collar, pulled him down and kissed him on the lips. I remember him being shocked, but continuing it. That's about all I remembered before the booze caught up with me.

*******

I woke up the morning of the 1st in a strange bed. A nice, big bed in a well furnished bedroom. I looked down and saw that I was wearing a large sweatshirt that said Wayne State University and a pair of panties, nothing else. I brushed my hair out of my eyes and behind my ears realizing I was really hung over. Heading out of the bedroom I saw I was in Darius' apartment and he was eating cereal on the couch.

I remember thinking "At least it wasn't a stranger" but wasn't exactly relieved. I didn't want to face the consequences of getting drunk and falling into bed with one of my better friends. "Listen, last night---I was drunk and"

Darius was staring at me with a bit of a smirk. "Yeah, you were drunk. That's why I slept on the couch"

My sigh of relief was audible. "So you mean we didn't...you know"

"Kari, you were falling down drunk. You were white girl wasted. I wasn't about to take advantage of that, I'm an enlightened man. Affirmative, enthusiastic consent. That's what it's gotta be. It's 2015."

I nodded in respect at him before correcting him. "2016"

We both laughed at that before I motioned down to my lower body. "So...where are my clothes"

"Folded in the bedroom" He replied "You undressed yourself, but you insisted it was fine if I was in the room. Something about you not having anything I haven't seen before."

Eesh. Drunk me must have forgotten that we weren't both men, and yet she still kissed him. The Inn creates a mindfuck sometimes. "So you saw everything"

"I saw enough" he said in a cool manner that made it seem like he was impressed.

I went back into the bedroom and found my purse and clothes. I got back into my leggings and shirt and fished a rubber band out to make a ponytail. When I returned dressed I addressed the smaller elephant in the room. "I do remember, last night I kissed you."

"I remember that too" he said playfully

"Right, and while I won't say it was only the booze talking I do have to reiterate what I said before-"

"About taking it slow?" He offered. He has a way of finishing my sentences, I think that's why we get along so well

"Right, it's just I've got to get some things in order in mine and Ashley's life before I over complicate things"

"I understand completely. Whatever speed is fine for you."

"Thank you" I say, truly grateful that he was so understanding.

I took an Uber home, he actually doesn't live to far from us...in the next city over. As I watched the scenery go by I mulled over what an upstanding guy he was. A lot of guys I know would have slept with a girl as drunk as I was and acted like it was totally fine. Honestly, if I play this right and the real Kari winds up with him I'm doing her a serious favor.

Annette/Benjamin: Me Being a Total Fangirl

A new Star Wars movie came out a couple weeks ago; perhaps you heard about it?  I sure did, living in an apartment full of guys in their mid-twenties. And, hey, I wasn't immune; I dig Star Wars even if I was still able to recognize that Amidala just dying of a broken heart in Revenge of the Sith was some bullshit (yes, old people, I was a little girl when the prequels came out and loved Padme the way you loved Han Solo; deal with it).  I hit that over the weekend with Missy and we had a blast.

Still, the really big media release for me that week was Penny Lincoln-Kim's new novel, Pygmalion's Proposal. If you've been reading the blog since I got here, you might remember that being a fan of her first two books in the series, as well as her Lynn Ashford mysteries, is what got me to book a room at the Trading Past Inn, leading to me becoming Ravi, Sandra becoming me, and everything else that got me to this moment. They're pretty great books, set in a future where mind-exchanges are possible but top-secret, with the super-rich stealing the bodies of teenagers. Usually it's done right before death, but one survived, and although he or she can't switch again, this mystery person is doing the same, matching the minds of kids with certain aptitudes with suitable bodies, the "Pygmalion" of the title. It's great stuff if you're a teen, about how the previous generation is wrecking the world for us, imposing their pop culture with an endless series of remakes, sequels, and reboots, as well as the sensation of having to set used to your changing body.  Once you learn about the Inn first-hand, what Arthur-Liz-Penny and her friends went through, etc., it's got new levels.

It's also written with teenage girls as the target audience, which was cool when I was one, but I kind of stick out like a sore thumb at Penny's signings now.  Sandra would blend, but it didn't look like she read my copies and became a fan. I guess I should be grateful for that; even with the event moved from the store to a local theater to accumulate the crowd, running into her would have been awkward enough to put a damper on things.

Moving the signing away from the store unfortunately meant I wouldn't get to see Marybeth until later; she had pulled an evening shift and would be there until the shop closed at 11pm (the bookstore being open later than most restaurants is just the most Harvard Square thing imaginable).  That was okay, in a way, because it meant I didn't have to explain Jonah/Krystle to my girlfriend. She's met Missy, but a girl with the figure Jonah inherited who has an actual stripper name even when she's not stripping... Well, I know I wouldn't have liked it!

Jonah and I had texted and chatted online since he showed up at my place looking for help at the start of November, although I've held off mentioning him until he said it was okay and started contributing to the blog himself. It's a little tougher to say "himself" now - he still favors shapeless sweatshirts when not at work to minimize his curvy figure, but he's responded to the pressure to wear make-up when there, as well as pulling shoes with an inch or two of heel out of Krystle's stock so that he is not quite so towered-over (he's actually a bit taller than Missy, but he'd just hit a growth spurt before going to the Inn, so he's sensitive about height). The big change is the hair; Krystle had grown it long and had it "relaxed" as a rule, but it naturally grew in curly, so sometime in the last month he had all the straight stuff cut off and now has a couple inches of afro. I think the idea was to look a little less feminine, and maybe it does in his head, but it also shows off his slender neck, and any earrings he might be wearing. I like it, at least.

We grabbed seats next to each other and chatted a bit before the reading. He had brought one of the mystery novels, not being much of a sci-fi/fantasy fan. He was clearly uncomfortable in the crowd, especially when someone moving to an inside seat made sure that squeezing through meant he brushed against Jonah's breast (kind of don't miss that), and always brought his voice down real low when discussing anything Inn-related. I kind of get the impression that he hadn't spent much time unsupervised before the Inn made him an adult, and even after four months, he still feels like there's someone watching who will scold him if he screws up, even beyond however much being religious has you thinking that way.

The actual reading started just a few minutes late, and I got really excited as the guest of honor came out on stage. The book was supposed to come out a few months ago, but got delayed a number of times for reasons I'd learn later. The first chapter she read sounded good, though, making me glad I'd be able to start it that night. Even Jonah seemed to like it.

There was a Q&A afterward, and I liked it both for the "regular" fan reasons and for how I could parse out Penny mostly avoiding actual lies.  When someone asked how she went from athlete to author, it was "I always wrote, but it wasn't until a few years ago that I thought I had ideas for novels people would want to read." Or taking about marrying into Korean-American family making her want to portray a more multi-cultural society than a lot of young adult series do without mentioning that she actually was Korean-American for a while. Or how she's not always sure about what motivates the "Pygmalion" in her books, because there were a couple of inspirations, some more benign than others.

After the Q&A, the kind of scary part began. Scary for me, at least; while I'm sure that a lot of the other folks in line were nervous about the few sentences they were going to exchange with the author, they probably had that neutralized by the frustration of waiting in line. I, on the other hand, was sweating enough to make a lot of the parents there with their teenage daughters look askance, and dropped my money when paying for my copy of the novel. I had to swallow a couple of times when I finally did get to the front of the line. She wasn't really intimidating in person, beyond being tall, attractive, and super-healthy-looking, but, still...

She asked me to whom to address the autograph, and I said "Annette Grayson".  Then she did the most awesome damn thing ever.

She smiled, started scribbling on the title page, and said "Hi, Benjamin. I was hoping you'd come." I had this whole thing ready to go about how I went to the Inn because of her, all vague so that the other people in line wouldn't think I was nuts, and she already knew who I was! Then she reached into a pile of books that were already inscribed, gave me one, and made sure to point out the slip of paper stuck in there like a bookmark.

That was it, at least until Jonah and I got outside and I could pull the paper out and read it: "Special post-signing event for fellow guests of the Trading Post Inn. 8:30pm, The Changeling, Arlington." I showed it to Jonah, dumbfounded, before my brain started working again and I looked up transit directions.  Getting out to Arlington meant taking the bus, one which I may not have found except that Jonah goes through Alewife station daily to get to work.

I called Missy, but there was no response. Her loss. The neighborhood where we got off the bus was kind of modest, and "The Changeling" blended in, without even a neon sign advertising some beer or other. It was still obviously a bar, though, which made Jonah nervous. I told him to relax - we'd get carded, but our genuine IDs would check out.

We walked in, and it turned out to be a cozy-looking Irish pub, with a bar, tables for dining, a jukebox, the usual.  The bartender fit the general atmosphere; a redhead of about thirty who greeted us with an accent that didn't quite seem to be from any specific place but wasn't the generic middle-American thing, either.  My eyes were drawn to her tight sweater, and that's when it hit me, and I got nervous all over again.

"Are you...  Are you Ashlyn Shelley?"

She smiled.  "For eight years now, if you know what I mean."

"I do!"  I grabbed Jonah's hands and pulled him toward the bar.  "I'm--"  I stopped for a second as I realized what I was about to say, but then went through with it.  "I'm Annette Grayson, and this is my friend Jonah."

Jonah looked at me like I was crazy for a second, but Ashlyn reassured him.  "Don't worry, you're among friends.  Come on, there's a table set up for us back here, and drinks are on the house.  What would you like?"

I kept it simple and ordered a Guinness, and Jonah stuck with a Coke, seeming a little uncomfortable that I was having a beer despite not chronologically being of legal age. Ashlyn didn't make a big deal of it in either direction.

She kept tending bar until another red-headed girl came in, rattling off every lousy thing that had made her late and then loudly announcing to the whole pub that the authentic experience began right now, at least as far as the bar was concerned. Ashlyn semi-sarcastically saluted - Moira had apparently been a wiseass since the day she was hired - and then settled into a seat at our table. "If only she knew how inauthentic an Irish girl I really am!  This is just about all the barbecue on the menu."

"Right, because you were originally from Texas!"  Not knowing how far back Jonah had read, I introduced him.  "Jonah, this is Ashlyn Shelly, though she started out as Jake Matthews - she's one of the original writers of the blog!" Belatedly realizing I had no idea how much she knew about us, I repeated that I was Annette Grayson, how Benjamin Jones, with some time spent as Ravi Kapoor in between. I started to explain about Jonah before deciding it really wasn't my place, although he didn't leave much out. Then I felt myself doing a thing I hadn't thought much about before I started seeing girls my actual age from the outside - kind of letting a little air out as I realized this exciting thing I could hardly have hoped far was actually happening, probably getting a dopey grin that would look cute on my original face. "Sorry, this is just so cool! Although you don't quite look like I imagined you."

"Hey, you don't stay in your early twenties forever without going back to the Inn. You hit thirty, the metabolism that made you curvy slows down whether you stop eating barbecue or not, so you start running with your fitness-nut best friend, and as a side effect the boobs shrink from 'holy shit!' to 'still very nice!' Then you get a simpler haircut, start dressing a little more respectably because you remember that being respected was just as gratifying as guys trying to get in your panties..."  She laughed.  "Don't mind the girl whining about having to act only ten years less than her age; I've done pretty well in every category but guys, and I'm still pretty optimistic on that count."

She looked up as the door opened, then raised her hand to signal the folks who had just come in. I had my back to it, so I just heard some guy asking is this was it before Ashlyn said that seemed to be the case, what with everyone busy with the holidays. Then the chair next to me was pulled out and Penny Freaking Lincoln extended her hand, said we hadn't been properly introduced, and also indicated that the Korean-American man on her other side was her husband Ray.

I stammered like crazy, saying something dumb like not being sure whether this was more like meeting J.K. Rowling or Harry Potter, and felt mortified when the whole table, even Jonah, laughed. I started to apologize, but Penny stopped me, saying it was a good line and I should use it in something someday.

(I'm not sure at what point in the evening she said I could call her Penny, but she totally did!)

In fact, she said she should apologize to me for not deleting her entries or changing the names in them when her agent said not to put something like that on the web for free, because she never imagined it would lead to someone actually coming to the Inn and getting stuck in the same situation. I told her she shouldn't because reading all about her experiences was really helpful, and besides, she couldn't get rid of all the posts that referred to her, and believe me, I would have dug down far enough in the search results to find them. She said she was glad I felt that way, but she still seemed to feel a bit guilty.

Somehow, Jonah was able to interrupt me and say "hey, about the blog - I notice that not a lot of people who wrote on it seem to change back, and out of all the people at this table, only Mr. Kim seems to be himself again; just how doomed am I?"

That quieted things down a bit, but Ashlyn took his hand and said not to worry. "A lot of people who do change back tend to delete their posts, like they can just erase the whole experience.  Other folks, the ones who are really dedicated to just getting through this and getting back tend not to post at all. That's kind of you, right? And while I sometimes wonder if writing on the blog contributes to some of us getting 'stuck' because every time we find something interesting or enjoyable can be read as 'well, they wouldn't really mind staying like that' to people inclined to steal our lives, you can probably counteract that by staying in pretty close contact with the other people in your line."

Ray took his hand. "It can be done. I'm living proof."

That reassured Jonah a bit, I think.  The last bit did make me wonder about my own situation a bit - did my excitement over exploring Ravi's life help Sandra justify just walking away when she saw Missy at the Inn? I don't like victim-blaming (especially when I'm the victim in question!), but did I help create the situation?

Penny seemed to read my mind and gave me a punch on the shoulder. ''Hey, if you're going to tell me that I'm not responsible for you going to the Inn, then you can't blame yourself for that other chick turning away. Now, c'mon, you've got your favorite author in a bar. Ask me shit!"

I froze for a second, and then asked about the ending of the first book, with Marcus choosing Jan over Nancy, and if that was about how she and Ray ended up together. She said that was certainly part of it, but also sprung from Ashlyn shutting the real Pygmalion out of her life.

I asked half-jokingly why the third book was so late, and she said it was because women who used to be men are the craziest pregnant people and most obsessed new mothers, and the only reason she wasn't texting little Lizzie's sitter every ten minutes was that Ray had confiscated her phone.  The only way she got anything done at all over the past year was by making Lynn pregnant in the new mystery novel so that she had something to pour that into.

"Yeah, thanks for that." Ashlyn rolled her eyes. "Like the family hasn't been pestering me about settling down and supplying grandkids already!"

"Hey, you know the character is more me than you, but you're the one who wants them to be impressed!"

Something hit me. "You named your daughter after Liz?"

"Well, she is Ray's oldest friend."

"Yeah, but--"

"I know it's hard for you in particular to believe, but we get along. I mean, we share a life. I understand her in ways you can't even articulate, and once it was all over, and she and Ray were back 'home' and done switching for good, and we could all talk about it... You'll see someday, I hope. There's just too much to gain from being friends."

I wasn't sure. "Maybe after Sandra gives me my life back, we'll be buddies. AFTER that."

''Fair enough."

I thought for a second, then had another question. ''How come there's no gender-bending stuff in the Pygmalion books? I never questioned it before, but now..."

Ray groaned, but Penny laughed. "Oh, that's a thing. There was in the first draft of the first book, but both my agent and the publisher freaked, saying that was the sort of controversy that they didn't need. Fine, whatever, I get it. I write in that you can't do this. Then, this time, they actually want it, figuring that it's a good way to capitalize on all the hubbub about Caitlin Jenner, Tangerine, The Danish Girl, Lana Wachowski, all that. And I'm like, crap, why wasn't this okay three years ago?  It's not like I've forgotten what changing sex is like, but there have been so many other changes since then..."

We all laughed at that, even Jonah, especially once Ashlyn reassured him that every once few months she'll wake up in the middle of the night, stumble to the bathroom, and try to pee standing up.

That's about when my phone rang and Marybeth said she was almost finished with her shift, and was I up for a nightcap?  I felt terrible about feeling torn, but they all said to go ahead, you've got to live your life and she sounded like a good one.

And she really is, if only for putting up with me replaying a heavily redacted version of the evening before we feel asleep on the couch.

-Benjamin/Annette

Jonah/Krystle: The past four months

Most guests start writing way before now, but I never liked writing in school, and I've just been so embarrassed.  I wouldn't do it now, but Benjamin and that author lady say it really helps.  And with Christmas coming up, I feel like I'm going to need a lot of help to feel normal, so, hi.  I'm Krystle Kamen, and have been since August.

I'm really Jonah Glass.  I was part of the youth group that was at the Inn at the same time as Jordan/Deirdre/Missy and Annette/Ravi/Benjamin, although I don't think they ever referred to me specifically aside from being one of the guys that got turned into couples.  Which was fine, I guess; I didn't exactly want people Googling me and finding that then.  But, I don't know, maybe knowing what I'm going through, even if they don't believe it, will help.  Somehow.

Anyway, like I said, I'm Jonah Glass, and I came to the Trading Post Inn as part of a church youth group from New Hampshire.  We had all sorts of activities planned, but on the very first night, the Inn did its thing.  I went to bed as sixteen-year-old Jonah Glass, male, the only African-American in the group.  And when I woke up, I was older, very female, and no longer the only black person - my roommate Joseph now had dark skin as well, as given that he looked like he was in his late twenties and kind of there by a rough road, I was pretty scared to wake up and see him leaning over my bed, shrieking even before I realized how different my voice sounded and what my body was like.  Fortunately, he turned away when I sat up, which is when I looked down, saw how much I'd changed, and lifted a sheet up to cover my chest, as much from myself as from this other man.  He at least seemed to have some idea what was going on, asking if I was Jonah and then slowly turning around when I said I was and that I was covered up.  He hands me the paper Annette - Benjamin, now - had slipped under the door, and we go look for her - him - and get the lowdown.  That's when we learn our situation.   I had become Krystle, Joseph had become Lamont (you'll excuse me for not using anybody else's last names), and judging from the letters that they left us, the thing we most had in common was not graduating from high school.

Fortunately, they lived in the Boston area, so we weren't stuck traveling too far.  It seemed to take me forever to get dressed before catching the train, though - undressing made me feel really nervous - I nearly threw up a couple times - and it is really hard to put that very-much-needed brassiere on the first time when you can't handle looking at or touching your own body.  It was even more strange when we took the train down to Boston - some of the female members of the group tried to tell me I shouldn't worry, others seemed kind of disgusted that I had this shape, and the guys seemed really conflicted looking at me, like feeling any sort of lust was doubly terrible because I was really a guy inside.

Then we get "home" and, well, things get worse.

Lamont, apparently, was on parole, and if going out of state for a vacation wasn't a violation, then missing a check-in because there was no Lamont for a couple of weeks is.  Police officers knocked on the door of "our" apartment just a couple days after we got back and took Joseph away.  It's apparently a misdemeanor drug possession charge, and if he doesn't cause trouble in jail, he'll be out by the time we can go back to the Inn and get our regular lives back.  But that leaves me alone in the apartment having to pay rent and utilities, and I can't go to work, because Krystle is a stripper.

What am I supposed to do with that?  I talk to my friends, and I get way more "hey, with the body you've got, not knowing how to dance should just be a minor problem" than I'd like, while the others are telling me that God will show me the way if I just pray and do what I know to be right, and I know that's true, but it's so hard when the guy from the club is calling and yelling and not only is Krystle's checking account pretty much empty but I can't even find the paperwork that has the address I should be mailing a rent check to.  I try to find other work, but putting down "exotic dancer" as your last job makes people assume that you're on drugs and maybe Krystle was - it would explain why she's so broke.  Maybe it would explain why I was even more panicked than some of my friends?  I don't really know how withdrawal works, and what I could find online didn't help answer any questions.  Eventually the management company for the building I'm in figures out that they're not getting rent and evicts me.

I've at least got Benjamin's number, but it's not like he can put me up - he's in a tiny apartment that he's sharing with a bunch of other guys, and...  I'm not ready for that, even if he did have room.  He says it's probably not good that I've spent so much time since the Inn holed up in Krystle's place not dealing with people.  We try to get hold of Missy, but I guess the start of November is really busy for her, but for whatever reason, I wind up having to move in with Krystle's family.

I don't want to sound to proud, or be too proud, like that's beneath me, but...  It's not always easy to be black in the part of New Hampshire where my family lives.  Most of the neighbors are great, and I've got a bunch of friends both at school and the church, but there are also a lot of people who may not say it directly, but tend to think of us a certain way, forcing us to prove that we're not trouble.  And that way is kind of like the Kamen family:  Krystle's mother seems to be a saint, but her father is nowhere to be found.  There's a photograph of a brother who is no longer with them.  "My" older sister by a year, Karla, is twenty-five and has three kids with three different fathers.  That's all crammed into two bedrooms, with me on the couch.

I think they can tell that this embarrasses me, that I feel like I should be in a better situation.  Based on how Karla talks, Krystle has always kind of been like that, but it's worse now, because I'm speaking with proper grammar and praying a lot more often than Krystle ever did, and she thinks I'm putting on airs, like Krystle decided she was too good for the family a few years back what she started stripping and now I've decided I'm too good for that.  I don't know, there's a lot of issues between the two of them, and while I'm happy to look after the kids to help earn my keep, she gets mad at that, especially when the father of the baby looks at me, and telling her I don't like that attention does not get me sympathy.

Please don't think I'm ungrateful.  I try to remind myself that this has to be part of God's plan, that maybe I'm supposed to help this family, although I'm not sure exactly how I can.  Maybe it's to help me learn humility.  I could be in the same situation as my other friends who are constantly afraid of messing up someone's life, or even Joseph.  I visit him whenever I can, although this doesn't please Karla or "Momma" Kamen at all, although they can't understand.  It's just so hard.

It's been a bit better lately.  There's a pop-up toy store in a mall out in the suburbs that hired me, and although it's a lot of hours for what is apparently not nearly enough pay for me to find my own place, I'm not nervous when I go to the ATM for right now, and while the employee discount is small, it will get the niece and nephews something under the tree.  Because all of the Kamen women were working some long hours, we didn't get to have a proper Thanksgiving dinner until a week and a half after the holiday, but Karla and I managed to get through it without fighting.

And while I'm sure Benjamin will talk about it more, meeting some of the other people who have been through this in the area gives me a little hope, especially the writer's husband Raymond, who went through all this and eventually became himself again, and says that he understands a lot of people much better than he would have if he hadn't.

Still, right now, I'm reading messages about friends going to movies while I'm babysitting kids who won't go to sleep.  Karla was supposed to be back an hour and a half ago and I've got to take over an hour of public transportation to get to work by nine tomorrow morning, and I seem to need more sleep with this body than I did before.

I know it could be much worse, and I try to remember that Joseph and some of my other friends probably need more prayers than I do.  But I'm feeling really frazzled right now, and I guess this helps a little.

-Jonah

Lane/Kari: The Easy Way Out

My last post generated a lot of feedback. Well, more than usual. 5 comments is a lot for a little blog like this. I got a lot of people offering encouragement and a few saying they wouldn't judge me no matter what I decided. A lot of the advice was helpful and some of it came a little too late.

Friday evening I was reading a comment telling me that unemployment wouldn't be so bad. That I could avoid eviction and go on government assistance and not have to have sex with Latherman to keep a job. I was all set to formulate a plan and take things in a whole new direction. I was going to fill out the proper paperwork and fix up a resume and face the world. That determination lasted an hour, maybe less.

I started reading Kari's lease and while eviction is, as one commenter put it, a "slow process", it isn't without penalties in the interim. There's only a 5 day grace period for late rent before the eviction papers are filed. During the process a 20 dollar per day late fee applies on top of the rent, as well as any and all court fees from the process of filing. This would quickly add up in to the hundreds of dollars and put me further behind than before.

Then there's government assistance. I've never been one of those rich bankers who looks down on the lower classes and people who had to get help from the state. I lived in New York City, I've seen poverty and realize that some people can't do it all on their own. Sadly a lot of other people DO feel that way and because of the way they vote, getting these programs is a long and extensive process.

For one thing, you can't just get cash assistance for being poor anymore. In the 90s they changed it so that you can get 5 years of a very small amount of money...lifetime. And Kari had used her 5 years up right after she turned 18 and was struggling with a 4 year old. Food stamps require a mountain of paperwork and a long and extensive interview and a drug test. Section 8 is even worse, and not only is there a wait list but our current apartment isn't qualified, I'd have to move and uproot Ashley from all of her friends to a neighborhood that is most likely not the best environment for her. The whole rigmarole was intimidating and seemed like so much effort for a life I was only going to live for a few more months, turning it back to it's rightful owner upside down and in some ways much worse.

I don't know if this line of thinking is sound, or if it's just something I told myself, but I thought about what would make things worse overall for Kari...and Ashley. Me personally, Lane, hated the idea of it want and would consider it the worst option. Kari...the real Kari...didn't share that sentiment. From my conversation with her it didn't appear that she minded having sex with Latherman, in fact she might even like the situation. I don't think she's only sleeping with him to keep her job, from what I understand they were having sex before she was hired, the job was a favor.

The more I thought along those lines, the more I considered it. I probably talked myself into it sometime that night but I didn't officially make my decision until Saturday afternoon when I took a second shower in the middle of the afternoon. I picked out a simple black dress, tight fitting but not too tight. I did my hair the best I could, which involved a nice headband. I put on my makeup, something I've picked up pretty well from various experimentation sessions with Rosita. I even sprung for a small gold necklace and matching earrings. I tried to not not to over do it, to not look like a hooker considering what I was about to do. I put the hotel key that Latherman had given me into my purse and headed towards the door.

Ashley was in the living room.

"Going out?" She asked

"Yep. Heading into the city" I said, more nervous than I should be

"Is Aunt Rosita going with you?"

"Nope, just me and some other friends"

"Don't drink and drive" She said with a face that was concerned but also trying to appear all teenage and nonchalant.

That's been something I've noticed from her. Apparently the Real Kari had a habit of driving home from parties and bars when she was in no condition to do so. She's never had an accident, as far as I know (Although I REALLY should look up my driving/criminal records) but it's the kind of thing that would make a kid worry. I've stopped doing that because I'm not going to continue ALL of Kari's bad habits, and she's noticed and quite proud of me.

"Staying overnight. I'll be back in the morning" I say. I don't know what came over me next but I went over and gave her a hug. Right then I knew I wasn't making a mistake. Unemployment would suck and be inconvenient for me for the next five months. Having and unemployed parent would suck and be inconvenient even more so for her for probably longer than that. I wasn't about to uproot this kid's entire life because I was too scared to do what Kari did. That's one less life that didn't need to be messed up by the Trading Post Inn, albeit indirectly.

****************

The MGM Grand in Detroit is right off the interstate with a big enough property that it's far from anything else, making it seem like a bonafide tourist attraction rather than a mildly depressing casino. All the money that people pump into the slot machines make for a pretty nice hotel, and it even had Valet parking, something I didn't think I'd get to experience as Kari.

The key was for a room on the 4th floor and in the elevator I thought one last time about chickening out, but it wasn't that strong a feeling. I put the card into the lock and when it opened I found Latherman sitting on the bed, watching TV. He perked up and smiled when he saw me, not a smirk but a genuine "I'm glad to see you" look.

"I didn't think you'd make it" He said taking me into his arms. I winced a little despite actively trying not to but I played it off by saying

"Ooh, Champagne"

"It's good stuff" he said almost proudly "I'll pour you a glass. But first, a gift" he handed me a bag from Victoria's Secret "Put it on"

I took it into the bathroom and opened the box to pull out a lacy black teddy with matching thong. The material was soft and sheer and having shopped at Vicky's on Black Friday I can tell it wasn't cheap. I carefully put it on and then looked at myself in the mirror. He must have bought it based on what he knew Kari's size to be, not what it was not that I've put on 10 lbs because it was a little tight, but that made it hug my curves even more. I reached up and pulled the headband out of my hair, causing my dark locks to fall down on my shoulders and a little in front of my face, completing the look. I always look pretty. When I'm out dancing and partying I can look downright hot. But standing there, in the hotel bathroom wearing a small piece of lace, I looked sexy. I felt it too, it was empowering. A sense of pride that distracted from the whole situation.

When I opened the door Latherman took me in his arms and gave me a quick kiss and a champagne glass. I took a sip, it was decent stuff. I think that might be another reason Kari runs around with this guy, he does treat her nice when he isn't coercing her financially. Nice hotel, lingerie, champagne...these are things you can't really buy on a receptionist's salary. I missed them and I would be lying if I said I didn't sort of enjoy having them there.

I sat on the bed, sipping my champagne while Nick...I couldn't really think of him as "Mr. Latherman" in this context...and I talked. We gossiped about work, about his hobbies, where he was thinking of traveling on his next vacation. I sat and kept up as best I could while I downed two more glasses of champagne, which helped make the rest of the night easier.

Finally he sat down on the bed next to me and took me into his arms. As he kissed my neck I closed my eyes and took a deep breath, and just sorta let instinct take over. Leading up to this I wondered if I'd be able to actually go through with IT. If I somehow wouldn't know how or be able to actually have sex with him. On that bed I found out that I already knew how, or rather Kari knew how, and I could just zone out and let my body react.

And react it did. Neck kissing and especially ear kissing feel REALLY good for girls, or at least they do for me and when he began working his hands lower I felt my nipples get hard and when he went even lower I felt myself getting wet. When he finally took off his clothes and stood in front of me I wasn't disgusted by a naked man, in fact quite the opposite.

Nick wasn't packing much, but it was ready for action as he took me in his arms and turned me around so that I was on my hands and knees on the bed facing the headboard. I guess this is their favorite position and it worked out for the best, because instead of lying and watching in anticipation for him to put it in it just kinda went in as a surprise.

It's a bit ironic that my post is going up right after Yuan-Wei's last one. The one where she describes in vivid detail just how great sex can be for a woman. Maybe she had a better partner than me and she definitely had better circumstances than me because I didn't really feel that same burst of ecstasy. It felt good, I'm not denying that...but it definitely could have felt better. I AM very glad that I'd experimented with Kari's vibrator these last few weeks, just so that the presence of something inside of me wasn't foreign.

I closed my eyes and planted my face into the pillow, letting the sensations hit me and fantasizing about other things than my boss. I was sort of getting into the rhythm and motion of my nipples rubbing against the bedspread when he broke the rhythm, let out a soft moan, and finished. I gasped at the hot feeling inside of me, instantly grateful that I'd taken birth control bills every day since getting this body despite not having a reason to. He pumped a few times before rolling over next to me and saying "I really missed that." And that was it. My first time as a woman. At least Round 1.

After cleaning up I put on the hotel robe and went back out to him ordering room service. I got the most expensive thing on the menu, some really delicious shrimp. Round 2 came a couple hours afterwards when I was watching TV on the bed. He was spooning me and after kissing my shoulder a few times he just kinda...slipped it in. He lasted longer this time, although I'm not certain how much longer, I was watching TV and moaning occasionally to make him think I was more into it than I was. I mean, it felt good, but really it was more of a background sensation. When he finished he was rolled over and was asleep. I stayed up a few more minutes before curling up beside him. At some point during the night he wrapped his arms around me.

He jostled me awake at around 6 Sunday morning, saying he had to get home and spend the day with the family. I tried not to throw up in my mouth a little but got dressed and headed out of the hotel wearing a short dress with messed up hair and runny makeup.


********************

That all happened Saturday night, it's Wednesday night as I'm typing this. I've had four days to process what I've done, three of them I've seen him at work. The strangest thing is, I don't feel bad.

When I wrote my last post I made it seem like I would be selling my dignity and soul for a crappy receptionist job. And yet during and after I don't feel like some cheap woman off of a TV movie. I don't feel like my self worth is lowered. I don't really feel...anything. I've had meaningless sex before. I've slept with women who I had no intention of calling again. I've been with girls where we both knew there wasn't any love involved, just lust.

What I did this weekend was just part of what it meant to live Kari's life. I don't get to pick what that means, I'm not the one who made that decision. But I DID make the decision to continue doing it. Having sex with Latherman was something I decided to do as a consenting adult and people can judge me how they want. Maybe it's not the best way to live your life, but hey, it's only temporary.

-Lane

Jordan/"Missy" Yuan-wei: Giving thanks for Getting Laid

Another month, another holiday where I need distraction from my family not being my family anymore. It's kind of weird to have this hitting harder the second time around, but there's no telling myself that it's just this once and things will get back to normal next summer. I've eaten the last holiday dinner with my family, and I didn't even realize it at the time.

Doubling down on that is that everyone, almost, is going home to their families, and while it's weird for Benjamin, it's at least something. I've got Inn-friends and classmates all leaving me behind (maybe the original Yuan-wei would consider around trip to Hong Kong for a long weekend, but I am not nearly so attached to her mother) and a sudden lack of schoolwork and rehearsal to fill my time. So I went for the most efficient possible distraction:

My vagina had not yet been used properly.

Oh, I've had my fingers and a couple of other things down there, and can compare and contrast Deirdre's and Yuan-wei's to a certain extent, but it'd been almost two years since I'd fucked another human being, and I was way past curiosity.

It wasn't hard to find a chance. A chick who looks as good as I do can probably get laid with very little effort if she knows what she is doing - I made this point a lot the first time I was twenty - but I wasn't quite sure where to go on Thanksgiving Day. The Commonwealth of Massachusetts thinks I'm too young for bars, and when I was twenty, I was not exactly hanging out at the places where hot girls who were to young to drink were. And even if I was, I didn't exactly have Yuan-wei's knowledge of what the Boston-based equivalents were.

So I started texting people.  Mostly it was folks I had met at the Chinese Students' Association Halloween Party; as much as it was kind of slow going because I'm not quite so adept at texting in Chinese with those apps, those were the guys who were likely to be around on Thanksgiving.  I guess it's kind of an aggressive move from a girl, but I've got no intention of being some demure young lady, and waiting until some guy texts is not how I'm looking to spend the holiday.  Enough not being with people, you know?

Tsang Chan-sam is the first to respond and I'm not really going to go through the call-and-response because it's pretty much the Mandarin equivalent of what's up, I'm bored, me too, show me your tits, photo in a tight sweater and a caption about buying me dinner for more, plans for later being made.  Then I look at the time and run for the shower and my lady's razor.

I'm not terribly slow getting girled up any more - despite having like four lines in the play I'm in, I've got three costume changes, and if I'm not naturally pretty enough to not need more make-up than I've gotten the hang of, then a fair number of people have been lying to me.  I am indecisive, though - this body came with a lot of clothes, shoes, jewelry, and shit, and while a lot of girls might be able to look in their closet and say "blue dress night", I'm looking at the question of just how sexy I want to look and seeing a lot of options.

Based on my wants and "Sam's" messages, I decided subtle wasn't the way to go, getting out a red number that didn't extend far past my ass and had a pretty forthright neckline, especially since the bra I chose pushed as much into the exposed area as it could.  It was chilly enough that I put some nude pantyhose on over my thong, and pulled out a set of matching red heels.  I still don't quite know what to do with my hair; this was not a night for a ponytail, but I always feel like I'm fumbling around with clips and pins, even when I manage to successfully keep my hair out of my eyes.  There's a curling iron in the bathroom, but I'll save trying that out for when I'll be okay getting a short haircut after I set my hair on fire.

He picks me up, though, which was kind of cool - Boston traffic sucks, but it's kind of weird to ride public transportation or even a taxi all dressed up.  We don't wind up going anywhere really fancy - Boston's Chinatown doesn't have a lot of really high-end places - and I'm always a little nervous in places where they can probably tell the difference between "Chinese" and "Chinese-American", especially since Sam finds my being a little slow in Mandarin really funny.  He says that's what I get for spending so much of the year fucking a local, and I try and shrug it off - whatever I think of Ronan, he's talking about Benjamin/Annette now.  Fortunately, I don't have to talk a lot - Sam's one of those guys whose favorite subject is himself, and how he really would like to be seen as more than his father's son but doesn't think the economy is great for trying to start something outside the family business (note: this may translate to him not having that much ambition).  His attention to me mostly involves staring at my tits, and maybe someday that'll piss me off, but that night I wanted that more than any questions of what I've been up to.

He's pretty abrupt after dinner - we get into the car, and he's already started kissing me even before I've got my seat belt buckled.  I'm a little freaked out for a second, as it's only my second time having a guy kiss me, and that time with Benjamin was kind of weird.  It's different - he actually puts his hand on my face and pulls me in, and he's kind of pushing, and it's my first real sense that getting intimate with most guys means being aware of how much bigger and stronger they are.  After we've done a bit with our tongues I stick my hand in and push at his chest, telling him that there's got to be a better place for this than an unheated car in a parking garage.  He smiles, says he thought I'd never ask, and drives to his condo.

(Yeah, he's a college senior and has a condo; I thought I wound up part of a rich family!)

It's empty, of course, but the light turns on as soon as he gets in and we don't really mess around once the door closes behind us.  He starts sucking my face again, but because he's a bit taller, he picks me right up, squeezing my butt and pushing me up against a wall.  I kick off one shoe but the other needs a little help before I can get my legs wrapped around his torso.  I probably kick him in the kidneys a couple times trying to do it, because I've really only seen it in movies.  I'd never even been on the receiving end, because of my former girth.

I think that's part of what gets me turned on so fast - having been a large guy before, there's something really fucking amazing about being picked up and moved around, really emphasizing that you have to trust this man and that he's going to be doing something really aggressive soon, and there's something really elemental about male and female roles or something.  I wasn't thinking that at the time; I was unbuttoning his shirt, tracing a line under his pecs with my finger (yeah, it's probably a leftover guy thing, but he wasn't complaining), feel his abs, and sort of knead the muscle a bit.  Then he pushes me up higher on the wall, so that he can start kissing my neck and the tops of my breasts and I feel like I should be doing something other than just smelling his hair so I squeeze him a little harder with my legs.  As if assured by that, he walks us into the bedroom, tossing me onto the bed so that I bounce, letting out a little squeak of delight.

I turn over and get up on my knees, telling him to unzip me, and the dress gets wriggled out of and tossed aside.  I turn over and cross my legs, hoping I look kind of teasing, and he pulls me toward the edge by my feet, straightening me out and giving himself easy access to my breasts.  He doesn't rip the bra off yet, but squeezes and kisses them.  I try to do the same, licking at his chest, moving down until I feel the hard tip of his dick on the bottom of my boob and looking up with a bit of surprise.  He smiled, started unzipping himself while I undid my bra.  He played with my nipples for a few minutes, then pulled down my pantyhose and undies.  For a brief moment, I wondered if this was when I was supposed to say something about a condom, but he already had one in his pocket and put it on.  Then he grabbed my legs, pushed them back until my feet were at his ears, and entered.

Holy fucking shit.

Holy fucking shit!

I mean, I hadn't even tested to see if my legs could bend like that, really, and practically before I've got time to register that there's something sending waves of pleasure from my groin all around my body.  I start screaming with every thrust, and then grab his back and start pulling, until finally something seems to explode.  A bit later (time is sort of out of whack for me right now) I feel him getting soft inside me, and he pulls out and rolls over.  I catch my breath, stare at the ceiling, and smile.  "That was amazing!"

He sits up and kind of laughs.  "That's what I like about you, Yuan-wei.  You always seem so grateful!"

I sit up too, kind of liking the feelings as my breasts hang down as I lean forward, and say "do I?"  I'd kind of been worried about not measuring up to the original Yuan-wei in some way that seemed suspicious, but maybe I shouldn't have worried - he sort of remembered her reaction to him for being positive and me lining up with that.

It could have gotten awkward, but my phone had fallen out of my handbag and started buzzing.  Being the cell-phone slave that I am, I bounded across the room naked to pick it up.  This amused Sam, and he asked if I had another date.

The message was in fact from David Chang.  "Not tonight.  Tomorrow, maybe.  Why, did you think you were the only one I messaged?"

Fortunately, he didn't seem like the jealous type.  "Well, I guess you were just lucky I responded first.  Call you an Uber?"

"Thanks, I'd appreciate that."  I started picking up my things and getting dressed, although I didn't bother with the pantyhose, putting them in the bag.  "Maybe another time, after the show?"

"Maybe; my girlfriend will probably be back in town then."

This is the point where I guess I'm supposed to feel like a horrible slut, but it's not like I knew, and as good as the sex was, he wasn't quite so charming that I was feeling particularly attached. "I guess not, then."  I turned around so he could zip up my dress, then faced him again.  Neither of us had anything to say.  "I'll just wait for the car down in the lobby, then."

So I did, texting David back.  I guess it's weird to arrange one hookup from the site of the last, but we all seemed pretty clear on it.

I suppose I could go through this again, but suffice it to say, this date involved a slightly classier black dress and a movie.  And, yes, the med student knows something about anatomy.

- Yuan-wei/Jordan/"Missy"

Annette/Benjamin: First for-real dates

So I met a girl, asked her out, and she didn't sense that I was really creepy for asking out a woman who looks a lot like I used to before a magic inn messed with my body twice and bail. Awfully kind of her, that.

I still kind of freaked out about it, though - when went the New York crew, Erin / Chris asked if I spent forever combing my hair before going out because it should take more than just a few minutes to get ready, and I kind of did a little - I spent a lot of time trying to find something non-formal but a little nicer than jeans and a t-shirt in my closet without a whole lot of luck; Benny is a pretty informal guy (I gather that Kareena is trying to upgrade "Jordan's" wardrobe and it's an uphill climb), and while Ronan bought a suit for job interviews, he and Sandra sort of spent the year playing at being me and Benny, so didn't spend much on things they weren't going to keep. I wound up going with something solid navy up top, the least faded jeans, and sneakers that are solid black enough not to call attention to themselves.

Oh, and I waited until about four-thirty, just before heading out, to shave. As much as I got used to Ravi's mustache pretty quickly, the change at the Inn sucked that back into my face, and I don't really love growing facial hair out. I also recall not really digging kissing stubble as a girl, so I figured I might as well get as smooth as possible for if/when we kissed.  Thankfully, I avoided the potential downside to that plan where I am bleeding from several small cuts to my face

We met up in Davis Square, which is actually in Somerville rather than Boston or Cambridge, but actually has some pretty good places to eat and drink. A little bit of a hike for me compared to her, but not as far as I would routinely go in New York.

It took me a bit of time to spot her in the Square - even on a chilly night, it fills up (the ice cream joint had a line out the door despite it being the first weekend of November).  Also, Marybeth was wearing contacts instead of glasses.  I feel kind of silly being thrown by that in real life, but it was day in large part because she seems to really enjoy surprising people or otherwise throwing them for a loop. Telling her that I didn't recognize her without her glasses delighted her.

Less delightful: Apparently the guy asking the girl out is supposed to make reservations, which meant that we wound up spending more time than was anticipated at the bar, waiting for a table to open up, although there were pluses to that, such as some decent beers on tap. Marybeth isn't nearly so enthusiastic about that as me, so I dialed talking about beer back and just drank at a reasonable rate, though not enough to say weird stuff. We mostly talked about books, with me mentioning that being unemployed gave me a bit of time to catch up. but that's not recommended. She's working on a PhD in 19th Century American Literature, joking about how the world doesn't necessarily need more experts on Mark Twain, and it's in fact sort of a vicious circle - she can't find a job in her field of study much better than selling books, so she decides to go back to school for another couple of years, only this seems to make her area of expertise narrower, and so on. I'm kind of not certain whether to be jealous or relieved not to be on that track, and say as much. That led her to ask how a guy with my obvious intelligence and interests (thanks!) managed to avoid college, and I haven't really got a cover story worked out for that yet. She buys that I didn't test well in high school and only really discovered that I like bigger books and such after I'd been out of school awhile, more or less.

When we do get a seat, the food is pretty good, and we're having enough fun talking that it's not a big deal that we're not walking to the theater until 9:30pm or so, only to find that not only is the 10pm Spectre sold out, but it would have been on one of the smaller screens anyway. The only other thing starting then is called "Love", causing us to give each other a look and blurt out "no pressure" at the same time. I pulled out a debit card, was mildly surprised when they handed us two pairs of 3D glasses, and then handed one to Marybeth. We took our seats, put the glasses on, and, you guessed it, there was a dick pointing straight out of the screen in the very first scene.

There's a LOT of sex in that movie, folks,

A LOT of sex.

I mean, after about twenty minutes we just turned and looked at each other in a kind of horror, because in addition to not really being much of a turn-on, it was all in this story of really self-destructive relationships. Just a really, really terrible first-date movie.

At least for me. I mean, it was okay, but even living in New York for a year, I hadn't seen many movies like this. I don't know if it even could have opened in my hometown back in Maine - it's rated NC-17 - and hearing Marybeth sort of segue from how this was a funny story even if it was king of embarrassing to how it was edited and shot was kind of tough. It just reminded me of how, despite looting a bit older, I am way behind her in experience and education.  And, maybe, sophistication; I kind of wonder if I've been leaning on "I've been different people" to justify looking more grown-up than I maybe am to myself.

Since it was almost midnight by that point, we split off rather than try and extend the night a bit.

---

Because our schedules are both nuts and kind of incompatible, it would be another week and a half before we met back up and actually caught the James Bond movie. It was on the theater's big screen, which is actually really nice - not that much smaller than the Imax screen at the downtown multiplex, really - and it finished up just early enough that we could grab a spot in a bar afterward.

"Better than the French 3D sex movie?"

"Yeah, things blew up real good!"

She shot me a look that said "come on, I know you're not really that kind of guy" and I smiled back, saying that there's something nice about knowing what you're in for.  Somehow that led to a bit of innuendo, and then back to her place...

And then I got to meet her roommate, who was very nice and seemed to approve of me, though she and her four friends playing some board game with extra rules involving shots kind of made things awkward. We got to Marybeth's room and started making out, but every time it seemed like things were about to get really exciting, there would be a whoop from outside, and while we would laugh, doing so seemed to move the sexiness indicator back.

Then Janna came in and asked what Marybeth had used to clean puke from the carpet last time, and we were done. I kissed her good-bye, and I'm sure Janna was apologizing like crazy once I was gone, but that part of the night was just not going any further.

The really sucky part is that there haven't been any more nights since. Between going home (in quotation marks for me) for Thanksgiving and the post-holiday crunch at retail & restaurants, we haven't been able to get our schedules synched up. At least I know we'll see each other at the signing next week, and I hope we haven't lost too much momentum.

-Benjamin/Annette

Lane/Kari: Given Notice

This is way out routine for me, I usually only update this once a week, or at least I try to. But something happened to me today and I'm trying to wrap my head around and nobody in my life would understand because they don't know I'm not who I appear to be and writing is cathartic so I'm putting it here.

It has been well documented here that Kari's boss, Nick Latherman, is a creep. Every day at work has come with leering, flirting, and occasional touching that he seems to think are perfectly fine because he was having an affair with the real Kari. Heck, the only reason she was in Maine in the first place is because they were having a weekend away together.

Since I became Kari, the rendevous have stopped and he's not pleased. I thought when I started dressing sexier at work at his "request" during my performance review that he'd be satisfied, but he called me into his office this afternoon right as the work day was ending.

He was sitting behind the desk, looking serious and not his usually perv self. "Sit down, Karina" he said using a name that only strangers really use "We need to talk about your job performance again. Several weeks ago we had a discussion about your drop-off, and you said you'd work to improve it but I haven't seen much effort on your part."

I rolled my eyes and pushed my breasts together slightly with my shoulders. I was wearing a low-cut top with a matching red lacy bra underneath "You said I wasn't dressing 'professionally enough'. Is this still too casual? Would a tank top be more work appropriate?"

"There's no need to get snippy" He said in a tone that I hear from men who don't take me seriously "But there's more than just your attire. You used to stay late at work, work through lunch assisting me, go on business trips. Now you're in at 9, out at 5, and you don't do any of the extras that we agreed would be part of your job description when you were hired?"

It bothered me a bit that he wouldn't just out and say it. Maybe he thought I was taping him, maybe he was taping us. Somehow he managed to seem even slimier by dancing around the subject instead of just saying that I wasn't putting out and that was a problem for him.

"Extras." I repeated "Like our trip to Maine" I mentioned to get indirect confirmation from him.

"Precisely" he said "In fact I don't think we've worked closely together since then." His face and voice softened "Listen, if it was about me leaving you there, I'm sorry. I had family issue and I couldn't escape it. You don't have to freeze me out over it. I would have loved to stay there all weekend with you."

I would have loved that too. He would have wound up with his life turned upside down and if there is any karma in the world he'd have been someone truly physically undesirable. Of course that would also mean there was a 50 percent chance I'd have become him instead, and the idea of looking at his face in the mirror makes me retch a bit.

"Well that trip was a bit of an eye opening experience" I told him despite the fact he could never truly understand why "I re-evaluated a lot of things in my life that weekend"

"Is that so" He said switching back to boss tone. "Well things are tight around here and there might have to be a bit of downsizing. A receptionist is a nice touch but we might be forced to go with an electronic answering service to save money. That would make your main duties redundant and you'd have to show your value to the company in other ways, and I don't think you'd be able to handle an account" He had a smarmy chuckle at that last remark and I wanted to claw his eyes out. Not just because he thought I wasn't qualified for something that I was, but because in this body I wasn't qualified and people looked down on me for it.

"I've got a major client proposal to work on this weekend and they're doing construction on the office this weekend. I've rented a suite at the MGM Grand to work out of." He slid a hotel key across the desk to me "I would really appreciate your help. If you can't make it or decide you no longer want to go the extra mile for this company, then don't bother coming in Monday." He stood up, got his coat, and walked out the door.

I was the last person in the office and my mouth was agape. I was about to be fired for not having sex with my boss. This is the kind of thing that only happens in bad lifetime movies. I took a few deep breaths, fighting back the tears. This was the most undignified moment in my life but I'd be damned if I cried over it.

I made my way outside and instead of going directly to my car I went straight across the street to a small bar. I ordered a shot of whiskey and had to down it in 2 drinks because my tastebuds aren't used to it. I stood there for a few minutes, staring ahead in anger and shock when some guy came up and started hitting on me. That was the last thing I needed so I told him to fuck off, paid, and headed to my car.

Once I was inside I told Ashely to order pizza and locked myself in the bedroom. I pulled my cellphone out of my purse and sent a text to the real Kari. "911. Call immediately", that way she'd interrupt her work day to help me deal with this. 10 minutes later the phone rang.

"What's going on? Did something happen? Is it Ashley?" A frantic female voice asked in hushed tones, clearly at work still.

"Why didn't you ever mention your boss would fire me if I didn't sleep with him?" I said as loud as angrily as I could without Ashely hearing in the next room.

A pause. "I didn't know you had stopped."

"I never fucking started" I sat "Are you crazy? You think I'd just hop into bed with him."

"I dunno, you hopped into all other parts of my life" she said "I thought you just kept that part off of your blog. Although you didn't seem to have a problem telling everyone you played with yourself"

"He says I don't go to a hotel with him Saturday night I'm fired" I said getting the conversation back on topic "What the hell am I supposed to do?"

"I mean, we did have an arrangement" She told me slowly "It's kinda how I got the job."

"So I'm supposed to fuck this guy for employment, like some sort of whore"

"Hey FUCK. YOU." She said in a tone that wasn't so hushed "You don't get to fucking judge me or what I did for money. Look, you're the one who acted all high and mighty about your obligation to live my life and talked shit on my on your fucking website because I didn't leave you a fucking note. Sleep with him or don't, I don't give a shit but the rents due on the 15th and I doubt you'll write a stupid blog entry about how you got me and my daughter kicked out into the cold Michigan winter."

With that she hung up. I had touched a nerve. I could tell she wasn't exactly proud of her situation but she wasn't too proud to fix it. As if she could do anything to fix it, she didn't even have her GED. Latherman apparently found her working as a hostess at a restaurant two years ago and offered her a job after they had begun their tryst.

I broke down crying, not sure what I was going to do. I finally sat down to write this blog post either looking for feedback or to clear my head. She was right about one thing, the rent was due this week. And then the electric after that. And then Christmas. And then in January I need to make a reservation for a trip to Maine.

It's never really a good time to be an unemployed woman with no education, but now is especially a bad time.

-Lane

Lane/Kari: Stuffed and Shoved

When Halloween and Dia de Los Muertos snuck up on me, I made a conscious effort not to be caught off guard by holidays in this life. I called Kari and got details on traditions and plans and roles for all the major holidays. I knew weeks ahead of time we were going to her parents for Thanksgiving as well as Christmas Eve. New Years is out with Rosita and some friends at some party in the city. Ashley's Birthday is in March, "My" birthday is in May and all of those dates a few minor ones are written in my phone calendar as well as on the wall calendar in the kitchen. (I bought it when Ashely started school, a little low-tech but its good to have a constant reminder of upcoming events).

Holidays are a big deal, even when they aren't. If you asked any random person to remember a day from the past year, odds are their most vivid memories would be of a holiday. The routine and traditions and happiness that surround them stick in people's minds. If I mess up as Kari on one of these, it would do the most damage, so I'm being proactive.

It also gave me time to prepare for Thanksgiving. Normally Thanksgiving back home involved watching football on the TV, trying to avoid relatives who want to start drama, and drinking when they eventually do. No such luck this year. As much as I hoped for a more progressive viewpoint, apparently traditional gender roles are enforced on Thanksgiving at the Cruz house, which meant that I was going to have to cook....and bake. I was looking up how to make stuff like turkey, stuffing, and mashed potatoes when I got an email from Kari. Apparently her mom took care of that stuff, I was only responsible for the Cherry Pie and the chili, and she had sent recipes for both.

I know what you're thinking, chili? Yeah, apparently its not a Mexican thing or anything like that, its just some thing the Cruzes (Cruces? I really should look that up) do. Unlike a lot of families they eat Thanksgiving dinner at regular dinner time instead of early afternoon. This means that between breakfast and dinner there's a lot of cooking but not a lot of food ready. The Chili is made the night before in a crock pot which gets turned on very early in the morning so that around lunchtime you have a nice, light meal that's great on a cold day. I was able to make both dishes pretty close to what Kari did, because if there is one thing I've learned to do in this life is follow a recipe. I eat out a lot back in New York, but we can't afford that here so most of the food preparation falls on me and whatever cheap and interesting recipes I can find on the internet. It was a lot of hot dogs and Kraft Macaroni at first, but I've improved since then.

I managed to pull myself away from the cooking a few times to chat with "Dad" and catch a glimpse of a little football. Thanksgiving football is a big deal in Detroit because apparently the tradition got started here or something and Eduardo is a huge Lions fan. He, like everyone in Kari's life, was simultaneously curious and pleasantly surprised at my sudden knowledge of sports, and he was a bit curious about why I was so happy when Dallas lost but it was nice to have some bonding, even it if was artificial.

I actually did a lot of bonding that day, both with Kari's parents and Ashley and it kind of made me a bit emotional. Having my brain dunked in estrogen has really made me susceptible to watery eyes when something kinda sad happens, and all this family time made me miss my real family, dysfunctional as they are. I really don't talk to my parents more than maybe once a month, and I only really ever visit them for holidays and that's mostly out of obligation. I think it's the fact that I've disappeared from their lives and they have no way of knowing, or even believing it. I snuck away during the day and sent a text to Jennifer telling her to give everyone a hug for me, even thought it would be totally out of character. I hugged the Cruz family for Kari, even though there wasn't any specific request to do so.

I ate what would be considered a lot for a large man, let alone a tiny woman. I still need to get my eyes in step with my new stomach. And while it is a myth that turkey makes you sleepy it is true that eating a lot of food in general will make you sleepy and I wound up crashing on the couch watching a movie. Ashley wound up curling up on a big chair nearby and without it ever being said it was assumed that we'd be staying the night there because it led into the next family tradition.

Getting up at 4 in the fucking morning to go shopping.

I generally look down on the idea of following up a holiday designed to be thankful with one designed to be ruthless in the pursuit of cheap stuff (And this is coming from an investment banker) but apparently Pilar liked to do the bulk of her Christmas shopping that day to stretch her dollars as far as they'll go. Shopping and I have an interesting relationship since I've taken over Kari's life, in that I really only do it when we need something. Kari didn't really follow that rule as evidenced by the giant closet full of clothes that probably were only worn a few times.

Most of the shopping done that day was done by Pilar for Eduardo and relatives who I'd never met and lived far enough away that probably wouldn't. I mostly gave advice and helped find things in stores. Ashely came along to, and would occasionally stand by an outfit or electronic device and drop obvious hints that she wanted that, and I made mental notes. I am glad we came along, even though I didn't buy anything because store openings that early in the morning are brutal. The crowds are animalistic even, and its mostly middle aged moms pushing each other and occasionally yelling. Ashley and I were there to watch Pilar's back to make sure she didn't get trampled.

It was 5 pm when Ashley and I finally got back to "our" place with a couple of bags that she kept hidden from me and a pile of leftovers. As I curled up on the couch in sweatpants I started thinking about Christmas presents. Not only what to get the Cruz family and what I COULD buy them, but also to get input from Kari. I also composed an email for Jennifer so she could buy stuff for my family and friends and I got a little blue again thinking about them.

It's gonna be a challenging season.

-Lane