Whew! I just got back from a relatively enjoyable weekend away from life. As nice as it is to hang around with the girls, it's just good to get away from it all.
The Pearce family are maybe not the most tight-knit family unit in the world, but Mom and Dad do seem to enjoy family activities, and as much as I value my personal time, when Dad brought up the subject of the apparently-annual Memorial Day camping trip, it came along at a good enough time that I felt like it would be a good idea to spend some time with these people while they're still in my life. (I call them "Mom and Dad" because even though I know their real names, it feels more natural for me to call them that, if that makes any sense.)
Of course, just because it came along at a good time for me doesn't mean it was a good time for everybody. Mae's been moping around all month over the prolonged disintegration of her relationship with Ed. I have to admit, as an observer, I'm not that shocked. Considering how uncomfortable he seemed on the rare occasions he'd been around the family, it seemed he was only in for something casual (slash physical.) They've been going out for most of my time as Tori, and if he didn't think it was "serious," well... then I don't know what is serious.
So she was not keen on coming along. She wanted to stay at home and take care of Scruff (the English sheepdog I rarely talk about, yet he sleeps right outside my door) but Dad nixed that idea and pretty much dragged her out against her will, letting Ken and his fiancee take care of the dog over the weekend.
So she was pretty temperamental over the course of the 90 minute drive out to the campgrounds.
I hadn't enjoyed camping much as a youngster, but mainly because it always felt like my dad and brother used it as an excuse to show off how much manlier than me they were. We went a few times, and by the end of it I was, well, a much more introverted version of Mae. Just angry about stuff.
It wasn't the test of survival I was expecting, though. Even though we had tents (which were a bitch to put up,) we had plenty of amenities. Electricity via generator. Magazines. Mae has a Nintendo DS. We weren't exactly roughing it.
So on Saturday morning, Dad woke me up to see if I wanted to go fishing. We had a cooler, so I knew we weren't intending to catch dinner or anything, and since fishing is a very relaxing activity (when your brother isn't teasing you about your inability to catch anything.) For a while we just sat in a canoe with our lines in the lake, facing opposite directions, staying quiet.
Then randomly he asks, "You seeing anyone lately?"
The speed with which I turned red with embarrassment, and laughing nervously, probably indicates how much I now think of him as a father figure. "Wha-ha-hat? N-no, no, no."
"It's been a while, huh? This whole time you've lived with us, I mean, either you're great at hiding it, or you're just not..."
"No, I'm really not. There isn't anyone."
"Is it because you're embarrassed? You don't have to worry about your mother and me, we know you're an adult, and you we won't say anything if you bring a boy home."
"no, dad, stop it, it isn't that."
"Now, Mae on the other hand..."
Conversation goes to a dead stop.
He continues, "You know about that Ed boy, right?" I nod. "It kills me. I've known for years, there's not a lot a dad can do to stop his daughter from getting busy--" this is the moment where I realize how young-at-heart Mr. Pearce is, that he can say something like that and not seem lame, "And it'd be pointless for me to try to force her to stop, because that'd just send her further away. I've learned..."
I know from reading Tori's diaries he's talking about Tori's teenage years, and his negative reaction to her early dating.
He goes on, "I was worried you'd be upset, I was so strict with you, and now with Mae I'm less so... but you know it didn't work with you, I don't have to explain it, do I?"
"No, I get it, you changed your tactics... for what it's worth, I think Ed and Mae are done."
"Is that what she's so upset about? Well... that's life, I guess." He wasn't much hiding his satisfaction about this.
After another pause, he began to reminisce about how he and Tori used to go fishing and do other boyish things when she was young, and how he missed that kind of thing since she became more of a girly girl. I told him that it was maybe not going to stay this way, but I was not lying when I said I enjoyed it.
As we rowed back to the dock -- having caught nothing -- he advised me that it was all right with him if I wanted to stay at home as long as I needed to, but that he figured I must be getting tired of it. I told him that was one way of thinking about it, and that "a change" may be in order.
Later that afternoon, I was reading in the woods when I heard some distant noises -- bangs that sounded like firecrackers. A while later, Dad and Mae came out of the forest. Dad had a rifle.
"Oh my God, was that you two?"
"Yeah, you heard us, did you?" he said. She was beaming. "We walked about a mile and a half out there to try to keep it down."
"Did you shoot something?"
"Nah, it was just target practice," he grinned.
I had no idea he had a gun, or that Mae would even be interested in firing one, but I have to admit I was a little jealous that I wasn't invited. In any case, it appears to have been a fairly genuine father-daughter moment: Mae's spirits seemed raised. That evening, in our tent, we even had girl-talk -- something Mae hates doing (and I rarely intentionally initiate anyway) and she enthusiastically ran down the list of things that bugged her about Ed, from the way he always talks about himself, to his inability to really express himself, to the size of his dick.
Her mood fluctuated for the rest of the weekend, but generally, it was a good time. I felt more at ease with myself than I usually do, and it was just nice to enjoy the fresh air and sunshine on my skin, spending the weekend dressed ruggedly in tank tops and shorts. It was also pretty awesome watching the fireworks over the water.
Anyway, it was a really fun weekend, but now I've gotta go to bed since I have work tomorrow.
Monday, May 31, 2010
Monday, May 24, 2010
Alia/Rob: 90's Dance
A lesson I keep having to learn no matter what life I'm in: you can't control other people. You'd think, having dated Todd, I would be used to the idea, but it was something that often frustrated me. People are gonna feel what they're gonna feel. It's hard enough to control yourself. Other people? Forget it.
I was chaperoning a dance with Cathy last week. Teachers are obligated to put in a certain number of extra responsibilities, and sometimes I'm okay with them, sometimes not. By that token, dances are a bit easier to stomach than, say, PTA meetings or parent-teach nights. The PTA is a bore, and parent-teacher nights have largely been a train of parents asking why their kids aren't doing so well (admittedly, their teacher is an under-trained novice, but I've gotten better.) Some parents can handle themselves, others decide to forget that I'm a human being and just let loose all their frustrations on me.
So dances. Yeah, that's a bit easier to take. All I have to do is stand around and enjoy the snacks while the kids paw at each other, and make sure they know they're being watched.
By some strange twist of fate, the dance Cathy and I signed on for was the "90's dance." I'm not some old lady, but I grew up in the 90's, and it was trippy to see my youth re-purposed the way people did the 80's when I was young. Nobody dressed up in 90's clothes or anything, but the music was a pretty dead on recreation of what was around back then, ranging the entire decade:
List of artists who were played over the course of three hours: Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Guns N Roses, Soundgarden, Metallica, Boyz 2 Men, Whitney Houston, Mariah Carey, Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, Brandy, Monica, Eve 6, Smashmouth, Sugar Ray, Third Eye Blind, Fatboy Slim, Beastie Boys, NSync, Backstreet Boys, 98 Degrees, Blind Melon, Jamiroquai, Beck, Cranberries, Barenaked Ladies, U2, Rob Zombie, Cher (Believe), Aerosmith, Spice Girls, Michael Jackson, Seal, Chumbawumba. Yeesh. Talk about hitting all the bases. The 90's were one effed-up decade, in retrospect, as far as popular tastes were concerned.
Cathy, who is about Rob's age, was similarly nostalgic for all this, although she has very different memories than I do, obviously. I was in grade school, and a little bit of high school, for all of this, so my earliest school dances would've had Britney and boybands. Also Canadian groups like The Tragically Hip, Great Big Sea and Moist got their due, but I'm getting off topic.
Cathy and I rehashed the stories of our youths, me sort of improvising on the spot to account for my age and gender. I mainly let her do the talking. When the Backstreet Boys' "I Want It That Way" hit, she couldn't take it anymore and led me out on the dancefloor for an "awkward high school slowdance."
I had my hands around her waist, she reached up and rested hers on the back of my shoulders. Suddenly I felt like I was back in a time before all this, way before Rob Garcia and the Trading Post inn and even before heartbreak and angst over Todd or the stress of University, when you could just be with someone and feel awkward over something so simple. And I looked down at this woman and she was clearly thinking the same things, just enjoying her flashback, and then she drew closer and closer, and I didn't mind so much, even when she pressed herself against me and I very clearly had an erection. She felt so small in my arms. Then at the end of the song, she turns her face upward and kisses me in the cheek, then again closer to the lips. I pull away in shock.
She glares at me in... shock? Disappointment? Embarrassment? I don't know. She wasn't pleased with either of us, because she just walked off and didn't talk to me for the rest of the night.
I caught up with her the next day and she was still cold. "I'm sorry about that," she said bitterly, "I guess I just misread the entire thing. I'm an idiot, okay? don't hold it against me." It was half a sincere apology and half pure anger. I know, because I've used that tone.
"Cathy, things are really complicated, and I don't think..."
"No, shut up. It's not complicated at all, you idiot. We're grown-ups. You don't have to act like every little thing is a tragic romance. You have to let yourself have a little fun. I mean Jesus, what did your wife do to you that you can't even just... enjoy things?"
And that was that. I'll never be able to explain exactly why I can't be with her. I was trying very hard not to get close enough to anyone that this sort of emotional reaction would happen, but I guess no matter how hard you try, people can't be taken and packed away like that. Now I've hurt someone without meaning to, and made things awkward with the woman who had pretty much been my closest friend here. I shouldn't take things like this personally, maybe, but I can't say "it's not really my life" because it really is. I did this.
I don't think I was wrong, but I feel bad that it came to this. I wish I could just crawl into bed for the next month and a half and wake up in Maine, but sadly, this is the real world, and I have work to do.
-Alia
I was chaperoning a dance with Cathy last week. Teachers are obligated to put in a certain number of extra responsibilities, and sometimes I'm okay with them, sometimes not. By that token, dances are a bit easier to stomach than, say, PTA meetings or parent-teach nights. The PTA is a bore, and parent-teacher nights have largely been a train of parents asking why their kids aren't doing so well (admittedly, their teacher is an under-trained novice, but I've gotten better.) Some parents can handle themselves, others decide to forget that I'm a human being and just let loose all their frustrations on me.
So dances. Yeah, that's a bit easier to take. All I have to do is stand around and enjoy the snacks while the kids paw at each other, and make sure they know they're being watched.
By some strange twist of fate, the dance Cathy and I signed on for was the "90's dance." I'm not some old lady, but I grew up in the 90's, and it was trippy to see my youth re-purposed the way people did the 80's when I was young. Nobody dressed up in 90's clothes or anything, but the music was a pretty dead on recreation of what was around back then, ranging the entire decade:
List of artists who were played over the course of three hours: Nirvana, Pearl Jam, Guns N Roses, Soundgarden, Metallica, Boyz 2 Men, Whitney Houston, Mariah Carey, Britney Spears, Christina Aguilera, Brandy, Monica, Eve 6, Smashmouth, Sugar Ray, Third Eye Blind, Fatboy Slim, Beastie Boys, NSync, Backstreet Boys, 98 Degrees, Blind Melon, Jamiroquai, Beck, Cranberries, Barenaked Ladies, U2, Rob Zombie, Cher (Believe), Aerosmith, Spice Girls, Michael Jackson, Seal, Chumbawumba. Yeesh. Talk about hitting all the bases. The 90's were one effed-up decade, in retrospect, as far as popular tastes were concerned.
Cathy, who is about Rob's age, was similarly nostalgic for all this, although she has very different memories than I do, obviously. I was in grade school, and a little bit of high school, for all of this, so my earliest school dances would've had Britney and boybands. Also Canadian groups like The Tragically Hip, Great Big Sea and Moist got their due, but I'm getting off topic.
Cathy and I rehashed the stories of our youths, me sort of improvising on the spot to account for my age and gender. I mainly let her do the talking. When the Backstreet Boys' "I Want It That Way" hit, she couldn't take it anymore and led me out on the dancefloor for an "awkward high school slowdance."
I had my hands around her waist, she reached up and rested hers on the back of my shoulders. Suddenly I felt like I was back in a time before all this, way before Rob Garcia and the Trading Post inn and even before heartbreak and angst over Todd or the stress of University, when you could just be with someone and feel awkward over something so simple. And I looked down at this woman and she was clearly thinking the same things, just enjoying her flashback, and then she drew closer and closer, and I didn't mind so much, even when she pressed herself against me and I very clearly had an erection. She felt so small in my arms. Then at the end of the song, she turns her face upward and kisses me in the cheek, then again closer to the lips. I pull away in shock.
She glares at me in... shock? Disappointment? Embarrassment? I don't know. She wasn't pleased with either of us, because she just walked off and didn't talk to me for the rest of the night.
I caught up with her the next day and she was still cold. "I'm sorry about that," she said bitterly, "I guess I just misread the entire thing. I'm an idiot, okay? don't hold it against me." It was half a sincere apology and half pure anger. I know, because I've used that tone.
"Cathy, things are really complicated, and I don't think..."
"No, shut up. It's not complicated at all, you idiot. We're grown-ups. You don't have to act like every little thing is a tragic romance. You have to let yourself have a little fun. I mean Jesus, what did your wife do to you that you can't even just... enjoy things?"
And that was that. I'll never be able to explain exactly why I can't be with her. I was trying very hard not to get close enough to anyone that this sort of emotional reaction would happen, but I guess no matter how hard you try, people can't be taken and packed away like that. Now I've hurt someone without meaning to, and made things awkward with the woman who had pretty much been my closest friend here. I shouldn't take things like this personally, maybe, but I can't say "it's not really my life" because it really is. I did this.
I don't think I was wrong, but I feel bad that it came to this. I wish I could just crawl into bed for the next month and a half and wake up in Maine, but sadly, this is the real world, and I have work to do.
-Alia
Monday, May 17, 2010
Cliff/Tori: Retail therapy
I was out at the mall with Raine on Saturday, and we ran into my co-worker Cyndi and her boyfriend Leo.
Leo looked exhausted. The poor guy was clearly being dragged from store to store while Cyndi tried on outfits and browsed the racks, and in my secretly-male way, I had sympathy. But even so, it put me in mind of exactly how much things have changed for me since, well, the change.
In my real/original/actual/male life, as I've said, I was never that good with women. In fact, I was downright scared of them, and for some reason the fear of rejection seemed like the worst possible outcome of any interaction. Sometimes, I overcompensated, usually at the behest of my friend Justin, but it wasn't a good fit for me (as Alia will recall from our first meeting, when I tried to get into bed with her. Back when Alia WAS a her.)
I remember being dragged around from store to store by my last girlfriend. It was a rocky relationship because we were celibate and I was, well, I was okay with it, but I'm not going to pretend it wasn't the source of some tension, especially after a few years. I was still dating her when I saw that movie The 40-Year-Old Virgin, and I was always -- hell, still am -- worried that I'd end up like that.
Back when I was still myself, I would see a guy like Leo, groaning and rolling his eyes at his girl's shopping, waiting patiently while she compiles potential outfits, and I'd sympathize, but also be bitter. I knew the feeling, but it was far away: and soon the only thought would be "At least you have someone, man."
And now? Now, I shop a lot like Cyndi, although not with as much, uh, enthusiasm. And I think most girls appreciate their Men's patience, so hang in there, Leo, and all guys like Leo. I know we can be very trying. And I don't even care about singlehood, because in my position, it's a damn downright benefit.
Did I just say I shop a lot like Cyndi? Yes. I'm not exactly a fashionista, or whatever you'd call it, but I'm quite fascinated by the number of different styles and fabrics and combos available to women. Skirts, pants, tights, jeans, tops, blouses, button-ups, camis, sweaters... I don't buy a lot, but I do like to look. There's an art to it, or maybe it's a science, figuring out a good outfit, that I never really thought much of as a guy, but when your body has curves to accentuate (or downplay) you think about these things, because comfort and confidence become serious issues. At a certain point several months ago I dedicated myself to being a girl who took pride in her appearance, and it's stuck.
That's not to say I'm capable of doing this on my own. Maybe Raine and Sara think it's odd what an influence they have on me, but their advice and direction has been invaluable. Most of what I buy, I show to them, and ask "Do you think this would go with that? Wouldn't this look cute?" It was definitely a surreal moment when I found out, according to Raine, I have good taste in colors. Go figure!
I was trying on some outfits in the store when I had one of those "This is so weird how normal this feels" moments. Slipping a dress on. Being in my bra and panties. Seeing myself in the mirror. The urge to look hasn't even really hit me that much lately, because I've gotten so used to what's there. And for a moment I thought "Is this right?" but I realized it can't possibly be wrong to feel good about the way you look, regardless what gender you are. I mean, I felt pretty okay about the way I looked as a guy, and I assume I will again. This is just... coping. Right?
Anyway. The whole shopping exercise was therapeutic because I've been dealing with some stress all month. I don't think Buddy's getting the hint that I don't want to date him. As much sympathy as I have for him, I just want to scream whenever he e-mails me to check on my plans for the weekend. He's even managed to tag along on a few group outings, due to his friendship with Raine's Guy. Now that they're getting serious, I'm pretty much the only single girl in a group of 5-7 (depending whether Cyndi and Leo are around)... and whenever Buddy comes by, it just gets that much more awkward. We haven't talked seriously about any of it, I just keep putting him off.
It's still nearly 2 months until I go back to Maine. I feel like I'm going to have to deal with this in the meantime, because the anxiety of having him checking in on me is starting to get to me. It's sad, too, because he's otherwise a nice guy. Just can't take a hint.
Leo looked exhausted. The poor guy was clearly being dragged from store to store while Cyndi tried on outfits and browsed the racks, and in my secretly-male way, I had sympathy. But even so, it put me in mind of exactly how much things have changed for me since, well, the change.
In my real/original/actual/male life, as I've said, I was never that good with women. In fact, I was downright scared of them, and for some reason the fear of rejection seemed like the worst possible outcome of any interaction. Sometimes, I overcompensated, usually at the behest of my friend Justin, but it wasn't a good fit for me (as Alia will recall from our first meeting, when I tried to get into bed with her. Back when Alia WAS a her.)
I remember being dragged around from store to store by my last girlfriend. It was a rocky relationship because we were celibate and I was, well, I was okay with it, but I'm not going to pretend it wasn't the source of some tension, especially after a few years. I was still dating her when I saw that movie The 40-Year-Old Virgin, and I was always -- hell, still am -- worried that I'd end up like that.
Back when I was still myself, I would see a guy like Leo, groaning and rolling his eyes at his girl's shopping, waiting patiently while she compiles potential outfits, and I'd sympathize, but also be bitter. I knew the feeling, but it was far away: and soon the only thought would be "At least you have someone, man."
And now? Now, I shop a lot like Cyndi, although not with as much, uh, enthusiasm. And I think most girls appreciate their Men's patience, so hang in there, Leo, and all guys like Leo. I know we can be very trying. And I don't even care about singlehood, because in my position, it's a damn downright benefit.
Did I just say I shop a lot like Cyndi? Yes. I'm not exactly a fashionista, or whatever you'd call it, but I'm quite fascinated by the number of different styles and fabrics and combos available to women. Skirts, pants, tights, jeans, tops, blouses, button-ups, camis, sweaters... I don't buy a lot, but I do like to look. There's an art to it, or maybe it's a science, figuring out a good outfit, that I never really thought much of as a guy, but when your body has curves to accentuate (or downplay) you think about these things, because comfort and confidence become serious issues. At a certain point several months ago I dedicated myself to being a girl who took pride in her appearance, and it's stuck.
That's not to say I'm capable of doing this on my own. Maybe Raine and Sara think it's odd what an influence they have on me, but their advice and direction has been invaluable. Most of what I buy, I show to them, and ask "Do you think this would go with that? Wouldn't this look cute?" It was definitely a surreal moment when I found out, according to Raine, I have good taste in colors. Go figure!
I was trying on some outfits in the store when I had one of those "This is so weird how normal this feels" moments. Slipping a dress on. Being in my bra and panties. Seeing myself in the mirror. The urge to look hasn't even really hit me that much lately, because I've gotten so used to what's there. And for a moment I thought "Is this right?" but I realized it can't possibly be wrong to feel good about the way you look, regardless what gender you are. I mean, I felt pretty okay about the way I looked as a guy, and I assume I will again. This is just... coping. Right?
Anyway. The whole shopping exercise was therapeutic because I've been dealing with some stress all month. I don't think Buddy's getting the hint that I don't want to date him. As much sympathy as I have for him, I just want to scream whenever he e-mails me to check on my plans for the weekend. He's even managed to tag along on a few group outings, due to his friendship with Raine's Guy. Now that they're getting serious, I'm pretty much the only single girl in a group of 5-7 (depending whether Cyndi and Leo are around)... and whenever Buddy comes by, it just gets that much more awkward. We haven't talked seriously about any of it, I just keep putting him off.
It's still nearly 2 months until I go back to Maine. I feel like I'm going to have to deal with this in the meantime, because the anxiety of having him checking in on me is starting to get to me. It's sad, too, because he's otherwise a nice guy. Just can't take a hint.
Tuesday, May 11, 2010
Alia/Rob: Mentor
Yeesh. If it weren't for the walking reminder of my physical state, I might forget this blog exists.
Call it self-censorship. I don't live a terribly interesting life. Cliff doesn't either, but she's at least willing/able to air her grievances/thoughts on her body, on her life. I get home after a long day at work and just zonk out.
Stress stress stress stress stressstressstress.
For a long while, it was just overwhelming. I wanted to find some quiet corner of the school and cry (manly tears) over how overwhelmed I was. But generally speaking it is not recommended that teachers lose control of their emotions in front of students. So I bottle it all up.
It's hard, man. Let's not kid ourselves here, this is a stressful job. I remember when I was in high school, the feeling of how overwhelming the pressure was, my quiet suspicion that nothing I was doing would affect me in the long term so long as I got into a decent University (I did.) These kids walking around the halls, half of them have the same parental issues as I did, some way worse. Some don't even talk to theirs, for better or worse. I certainly don't know all their stories, but you get to know who's having trouble.
Oh, you get to know things. The way hormones rule this hallway is palpable, to say the least. Monday morning comes and you can tell which ones had a bad weekend. Every little romantic gesture is scrutinized and agonized over. Students' moods and behaviours change on a regular basis, especially the girls. I've chaperoned a couple dances (I'm on duty for one more this week as a matter of fact) and seeing the way these kids attempt to free themselves from their own awkwardness - with varying degrees of success - well, it takes me back.
That's not to say the teachers are immune to this. We gossip, we make cliques, we have in-jokes. In some really sad ways, we emulate the behaviour of the kids for whom we're supposed to set the example. The sex lives of unmarried teachers (like myself and Cathy) are scrutinized by the older ladies teaching English, Geography and History. We all indulge in inappropriate speculations about the kids. It becomes like a weird little soap opera for some of these people.
Some, however, don't seem to care. This is Marshall McPhee, the senior English teacher. Earlier this year, when the Vice Principal was on my ass about my lackluster in-class performance, Mr. McPhee stood up for me, and even became a mentor of sorts. He's the kind of teacher who's been at it for 25 years, and still gets out of bed in the morning, glad to be teaching, where so many of these people have had their spirits ground down. He's a friendly, balding, thin, bearded sort with John Lennon glasses and a button-up vest.
"Rob," he says to me after school one day, "It's our job to positively impact these kids' lives. We may be here for the long term, but they aren't, and it's our responsibility to see them them through that. We only get a few years to do anything for these kids, and even then it's just a sliver of time. And then they're gone. You've got to be strong. You've got to know your stuff, and you've got to be there for them." I'm paraphrasing, of course: This was months ago. But the feeling stuck with me.
There was this girl who, at the beginning of the semester, was having relationship trouble. That much was true. She showed promise, but also distraction. I knew a lot of girls like that in high school -- hell, I envied them, I was never the one who had the boys' attention, until Todd -- and I know it would've been hard for me to take any teacher's advice seriously (especially a male one) but I did what I could.
Basically, what it amounted to was taking her aside after class and assuring her of the potential I saw in her, and reminding her that things were probably going on in her life that felt the most important, but wouldn't seem so relevant down the road. And showing her perceptiveness, she rebuffed, "And all the classes ARE?"
I told her, "At this point, you're learning more about how to be a person than you are about books. We give you assignments and work not only to teach you their lessons, but how to learn, how to work, full stop. Having a life is important, but what's really important is to learn to balance it all, because believe me, it's never going to stop. There will still be boys, if you don't run off every weekend to hang out with them, and instead keep up on your readings."
And she laughed at this, but a little later when we started doing poetry, she was the only one to have anything memorized, and her insights were quite strong as well. She did a report on Sylvia Plath, which was a sort of "Oh God what have I done" moment (I kid, Plath-lovers.) Was it University-level? Of course not. But she's only a sophomore in high school.
Anyway, the balance-talk worked on both ends because I started dealing with school-related issues a little better, even taking a few extra assignments just to hone my abilities. It's still not my dream job, but I'm getting better at it. And like high school, my time here is limited, and in fact coming to an end sooner than later.
Anyway. It's late, and as always I have an early morning tomorrow. Todd sent me this album by this new Canadian band, Zeus. He loves it, but I think it's a little weak until the midway point gem, "Marching Through Your Head," and then there are some lovely tracks after that, such as "The Sound of You" and "At The Risk Of Repeating," which all makes me yearn for home.
I made him promise not to send me the new Broken Social Scene album. I don't want to hear that until I'm a girl again.
-Alia
Call it self-censorship. I don't live a terribly interesting life. Cliff doesn't either, but she's at least willing/able to air her grievances/thoughts on her body, on her life. I get home after a long day at work and just zonk out.
Stress stress stress stress stressstressstress.
For a long while, it was just overwhelming. I wanted to find some quiet corner of the school and cry (manly tears) over how overwhelmed I was. But generally speaking it is not recommended that teachers lose control of their emotions in front of students. So I bottle it all up.
It's hard, man. Let's not kid ourselves here, this is a stressful job. I remember when I was in high school, the feeling of how overwhelming the pressure was, my quiet suspicion that nothing I was doing would affect me in the long term so long as I got into a decent University (I did.) These kids walking around the halls, half of them have the same parental issues as I did, some way worse. Some don't even talk to theirs, for better or worse. I certainly don't know all their stories, but you get to know who's having trouble.
Oh, you get to know things. The way hormones rule this hallway is palpable, to say the least. Monday morning comes and you can tell which ones had a bad weekend. Every little romantic gesture is scrutinized and agonized over. Students' moods and behaviours change on a regular basis, especially the girls. I've chaperoned a couple dances (I'm on duty for one more this week as a matter of fact) and seeing the way these kids attempt to free themselves from their own awkwardness - with varying degrees of success - well, it takes me back.
That's not to say the teachers are immune to this. We gossip, we make cliques, we have in-jokes. In some really sad ways, we emulate the behaviour of the kids for whom we're supposed to set the example. The sex lives of unmarried teachers (like myself and Cathy) are scrutinized by the older ladies teaching English, Geography and History. We all indulge in inappropriate speculations about the kids. It becomes like a weird little soap opera for some of these people.
Some, however, don't seem to care. This is Marshall McPhee, the senior English teacher. Earlier this year, when the Vice Principal was on my ass about my lackluster in-class performance, Mr. McPhee stood up for me, and even became a mentor of sorts. He's the kind of teacher who's been at it for 25 years, and still gets out of bed in the morning, glad to be teaching, where so many of these people have had their spirits ground down. He's a friendly, balding, thin, bearded sort with John Lennon glasses and a button-up vest.
"Rob," he says to me after school one day, "It's our job to positively impact these kids' lives. We may be here for the long term, but they aren't, and it's our responsibility to see them them through that. We only get a few years to do anything for these kids, and even then it's just a sliver of time. And then they're gone. You've got to be strong. You've got to know your stuff, and you've got to be there for them." I'm paraphrasing, of course: This was months ago. But the feeling stuck with me.
There was this girl who, at the beginning of the semester, was having relationship trouble. That much was true. She showed promise, but also distraction. I knew a lot of girls like that in high school -- hell, I envied them, I was never the one who had the boys' attention, until Todd -- and I know it would've been hard for me to take any teacher's advice seriously (especially a male one) but I did what I could.
Basically, what it amounted to was taking her aside after class and assuring her of the potential I saw in her, and reminding her that things were probably going on in her life that felt the most important, but wouldn't seem so relevant down the road. And showing her perceptiveness, she rebuffed, "And all the classes ARE?"
I told her, "At this point, you're learning more about how to be a person than you are about books. We give you assignments and work not only to teach you their lessons, but how to learn, how to work, full stop. Having a life is important, but what's really important is to learn to balance it all, because believe me, it's never going to stop. There will still be boys, if you don't run off every weekend to hang out with them, and instead keep up on your readings."
And she laughed at this, but a little later when we started doing poetry, she was the only one to have anything memorized, and her insights were quite strong as well. She did a report on Sylvia Plath, which was a sort of "Oh God what have I done" moment (I kid, Plath-lovers.) Was it University-level? Of course not. But she's only a sophomore in high school.
Anyway, the balance-talk worked on both ends because I started dealing with school-related issues a little better, even taking a few extra assignments just to hone my abilities. It's still not my dream job, but I'm getting better at it. And like high school, my time here is limited, and in fact coming to an end sooner than later.
Anyway. It's late, and as always I have an early morning tomorrow. Todd sent me this album by this new Canadian band, Zeus. He loves it, but I think it's a little weak until the midway point gem, "Marching Through Your Head," and then there are some lovely tracks after that, such as "The Sound of You" and "At The Risk Of Repeating," which all makes me yearn for home.
I made him promise not to send me the new Broken Social Scene album. I don't want to hear that until I'm a girl again.
-Alia
Tuesday, April 27, 2010
Cliff/Tori: Everything in its place...
...except me.
When I first got here I didn't know what to do with myself. I was just a freaked out boy in a girl's body, wary of everything signifying my change. From the clothes to the house to mirrors to my new "family."
So I threw myself into chores. Since Tori wasn't working last summer, I was around to walk the dog and clean the house and mow the lawn, as awkward as it felt to get all sweaty under my boobs, and as much as I felt the physical difference by getting way more sore than I ever did as a man, I needed something to focus on that didn't require me to pretend as Tori. Even laundry, which as a single guy, I knew how to do, but not for women's garments.
I was thinking about it as I was mowing the lawn this past weekend. I did all those things without question last year, but this year I felt the need to raise a fuss, to try to get Mae to take her share of the chores, which turned into a whole thing. You always fight with your siblings. Even when you get along, which I think I do with Mae. I'm not a big personality, and a lot of her ire is still directed at the real Tori, not anything I've done. It's gotten better, but I'd be nuts to think we were best buds now. And hell, sometimes she makes me crazy from her own laziness.
I'm just fussy. Especially since I became a woman. I feel the need to try to control things and keep them simple. My room still looks basically the way it did when I first became Tori, with all her stuff in boxes, and I remove it as necessary, but I'm very good about keeping things in place.
Maybe it's a girl thing. I mean, a me-as-a-girl thing. For instance, getting my period made me very wary of dirty clothes, just because of how disgusted I felt. Made me realize I couldn't just be lazy, I had to actively do stuff, take care of this body, and by extension my surroundings. Incidentally, I'm on my period right now, in case you cared. I personally feel like there's a connection: the pads (later, tampons) led to leg-and-underarm shaving, then "Torification" and finally to me figuring out that it was possible to just be me under this skin.
I can be a bit of a scatter-brain when it comes to stuff outside my sphere of control. As far as making plans Raine and Sara always call me on being non-committal and sometimes undependable.
Raine has taken more of a liking to her Guy than most of the dudes she's hooked up with, and was really not pleased at my treatment of Buddy. I basically sent him an overly wordy e-mail explaining how as much as I liked him, I don't think I'd make a good girlfriend right now, I'm just not up for it. He said he understood everything, and if I ever wanted to hang out, he'd be up for it. And as much as I feel like I'm leading the poor guy on, I really do think he's a nice guy and I want him around. I just had to make sure that he was aware there was approximately zero chance of him getting as far as last time in the near future. Again, he says, that's not a no, and he can wait.
And God help me, I don't have the strength to say "No" outright, just because I feel too attached to him that I don't wanna be so harsh.
Yeah, it's sad. He seems okay with it, but if it was me, I know I'd be going insane trying to figure this girl out.
Anyway, sorry for the random train of thought post, all. Life is weird.
When I first got here I didn't know what to do with myself. I was just a freaked out boy in a girl's body, wary of everything signifying my change. From the clothes to the house to mirrors to my new "family."
So I threw myself into chores. Since Tori wasn't working last summer, I was around to walk the dog and clean the house and mow the lawn, as awkward as it felt to get all sweaty under my boobs, and as much as I felt the physical difference by getting way more sore than I ever did as a man, I needed something to focus on that didn't require me to pretend as Tori. Even laundry, which as a single guy, I knew how to do, but not for women's garments.
I was thinking about it as I was mowing the lawn this past weekend. I did all those things without question last year, but this year I felt the need to raise a fuss, to try to get Mae to take her share of the chores, which turned into a whole thing. You always fight with your siblings. Even when you get along, which I think I do with Mae. I'm not a big personality, and a lot of her ire is still directed at the real Tori, not anything I've done. It's gotten better, but I'd be nuts to think we were best buds now. And hell, sometimes she makes me crazy from her own laziness.
I'm just fussy. Especially since I became a woman. I feel the need to try to control things and keep them simple. My room still looks basically the way it did when I first became Tori, with all her stuff in boxes, and I remove it as necessary, but I'm very good about keeping things in place.
Maybe it's a girl thing. I mean, a me-as-a-girl thing. For instance, getting my period made me very wary of dirty clothes, just because of how disgusted I felt. Made me realize I couldn't just be lazy, I had to actively do stuff, take care of this body, and by extension my surroundings. Incidentally, I'm on my period right now, in case you cared. I personally feel like there's a connection: the pads (later, tampons) led to leg-and-underarm shaving, then "Torification" and finally to me figuring out that it was possible to just be me under this skin.
I can be a bit of a scatter-brain when it comes to stuff outside my sphere of control. As far as making plans Raine and Sara always call me on being non-committal and sometimes undependable.
Raine has taken more of a liking to her Guy than most of the dudes she's hooked up with, and was really not pleased at my treatment of Buddy. I basically sent him an overly wordy e-mail explaining how as much as I liked him, I don't think I'd make a good girlfriend right now, I'm just not up for it. He said he understood everything, and if I ever wanted to hang out, he'd be up for it. And as much as I feel like I'm leading the poor guy on, I really do think he's a nice guy and I want him around. I just had to make sure that he was aware there was approximately zero chance of him getting as far as last time in the near future. Again, he says, that's not a no, and he can wait.
And God help me, I don't have the strength to say "No" outright, just because I feel too attached to him that I don't wanna be so harsh.
Yeah, it's sad. He seems okay with it, but if it was me, I know I'd be going insane trying to figure this girl out.
Anyway, sorry for the random train of thought post, all. Life is weird.
Sunday, April 18, 2010
Cliff/Tori: The Lost Girl
There's something I want to tell you guys about. It happened before my last post, right before Greg found out about his body maybe going missing. I described that time as being "just a good time to be Cliff being Tori."
I was actually going to write about it when I logged on and read Greg's post, which really put me out of the mood.
Things had been going well in life. It was all a blur of fun bar nights, guys trying unsuccessfully to pick me up, movie nights, the occasional visit with Alia, and of course, more than a few private nights to myself.
This is my guilty pleasure. I shut the door to my room, and as quickly as I want, I can be naked, or down to my bra and panties. Man, when I was a guy, what I wouldn't have done to have complete access to a woman's body, in person. And now that I do, I'm just a little ashamed to admit how much liberty I've taken with it. As you know, I've gotten very comfortable taking things into my own hands. That's no secret. And hell, there's probably a bunch of you who would rather I just write about that.
But that's only part of being Tori, for me. I'd probably go insane with loneliness if that's all I did, because in my old life, well, it kind of was. With all the tools at my disposal, sometimes seems like I could be doing anything.
So this was Friday, April 1st. The day after Greg had posted his post, but before I'd read it. Raine, in her infinite boy-craziness, had arranged herself a date, and wanted me to come along to meet the guy's friend.
Oh, there's always a friend. This sounds bitchy coming from a girl, but from the male perspective, Tori is more attractive than Raine. I've put on some pounds since getting this body, due to lack of exercise, but I'm not a big eater, so it's balanced okay. All the original clothes that came with it still fit, with a couple exceptions. Raine is pretty in a curvy kind of way, and always looks more feminine than me anyway (deliberately on my part,) so I shoo the guys over to her and they forget about me pretty quickly. But oh, there's always a friend.
I know this, because when my best friend Justin and I would hit the bars, I was that friend. The difference is, I'd end up with the Raine while Justin took the Tori home. Having to meet so many of these guys has really put things into perspective for me. Either they stammer and have nothing to talk about, or they're boring and self-absorbed. Raine goes for Spencer Pratt wannabes, pretty boys, which I'm starting to resent, because of how nuts she goes for them.
But this was different. Raine's guy (I'll call him Guy,) is an environmental activist, with hippie-looking shoulder-length hair and a soulpatch. A real sensitive type. I'd met him once, but only heard about the friend.
Raine's Guy's Buddy (I'll call him Buddy) looked more like that guy from Weezer, with the short hair and the glasses. You know, "I look just like Buddy Holly." Alia probably knows the guy's name, but he's not online right now. Part of the reason I went along with Raine's double date is that they were going bowling, which I love. Justin and I were actually in a league in college, but since I've been Tori, my few attempts have been embarrassing because I keep failing at compensating for my altered center of gravity and anatomy (ie boobs throw me off balance.)
Anyway, since it was a pretty casual affair, I didn't have to dress up or anything, which meant capris (Philly was quite warm that week) and a fitted tee. My hair, I pulled back into a ponytail... I've just been letting it grow wild all winter. I should see a stylist before I go back to Maine but I don't know where to start with that.
So Buddy. seemed like a nice enough guy, and only glanced briefly at my breasts to start with. I asking him at first if he was into the environment like his friend, but he just shrugged his shoulders, "I mean, it's good for him, but I'm no activist or anything. I'm in webdesign." I engaged him in conversation about computers, and he paid me the respect of not treating me like I was weird for wanting to do so (admittedly our areas of expertise differ, but it was still neat not to have to pretend I'm just a dumb girl.)
"So are you a good bowler?" he asked.
I told him, "Oh, I used to be, before I got these," gesturing to my breasts.
"Oh, you can just use those to your advantage and distract your opponent."
I can't believe I laughed at that. Just a little. That's like, the oldest one in the boob joke book.
He wasn't awkward, but he wasn't cocky either. He didn't really act like it was a date, and admitted afterward, that like me, he was wary of fix-ups, and just wanted to have fun. He didn't even make any awkward attempts at handsiness as we all proceeded to drink, which put him way up in the win column over the other losers I've been forced to hang out with. The fact that we seemed to share the same sense of humor and like the same movies and that he's the first single guy I've been introduced to who didn't seem to be trying to impress me also worked in his favor. He'd get a gutter ball, point back at me and yell out, "That one was for you!"
At the end of the hour of bowling, we'd split a couple of pitchers between the four of us, and were thus all feeling quite giddy. Raine pulled me aside and asked, "What do you think of Buddy?" I told her, "He's pretty cool."
"So you like him?"
"Yeah, I mean... I don't know."
I was stammering to proclaim not like that but couldn't get it out when she said "You should go to his place."
"Uh, what?"
"Just go home with him, Tori. Give him a shot. It's been like a year since you've gotten any action and it's making you weird. I'm just trying to be a friend."
On another night, with another guy, I probably would have just blown her off and said she didn't know what she was talking about. But Buddy and I were hitting it off more than I have with any guy. For a second I thought to myself, "going home with him is like promising I'll... you know." But I realized it didn't have to. I felt like there was some way I could get out of going all the way -- which, as much as I liked the guy, I didn't want.
So we took the SEPTA bus back to his place. It was only Midnight by that point and I tend to get very keyed up late at night due to my odd hours. "If you see a girl's shoe around here, don't worry. I live with my sister, but she's at her boyfriend's tonight."
He brought us each a beer and grabbed his laptop to show me some funny YouTube videos he'd described earlier in the night. He set the computer up on the coffee table and we hunched over it on the couch. We had to sort of lean into each other to get a good view of the screen. I had my hand on his shoulder to steady myself. And then he kissed me. Just turned his head and planted a quick one on my lips.
I say that, but... it's not like he surprised me with it. Right when he did it, I was thinking to myself "I could totally see myself kissing him right now." So when he did it, just a quick peck to test it out, to give me a chance to push him away and storm out, I just kissed him back. Soon we had our arms around each other and he laid me back on the couch and we just started making out. I kept my hands on his sides while he pawed away at me -- and, okay, that felt awkward, but it was his reward for getting me this far along. Pretty soon, I could tell he was getting hard, and even found myself considering examining the evidence firsthand, but I chose to ignore it while he unclasped my bra and helped himself.
I could feel myself losing control, but I ignored the sirens in my head by slipping my top off over my head. He began to kiss my breasts while his hands went further and further south. And by the time they found their way to their destination, when I felt the initial jolt of his fingers, and it made me moan in a way I never have before. That was the point of no return.
And that's when I hit the brakes.
"Stop, stop, stop, stop," I gasped.
He did and looked up at me. "What's wrong?"
"I'm just... not ready. Too fast." He looked dismayed, but understanding. I elaborated. "You're a great guy and everything, but I'm just not up for this right now. I think I should go."
"The buses have stopped running by now," he reasoned, "I mean, even if we're not gonna -- and that's perfectly fine -- you might as well just stay the night."
"Yeah, that sounds fine," I sighed, putting my top back on. "I can sleep out here, no problem."
"Sure, I'll get you a blanket..."
So I tried to fall asleep for a few hours, sexually frustrated, with Alia's words ringing in my ears, along with all the confusion and guilt that goes along with this little adventure.
I woke up the next morning before he did, but in full view of his sister, who was sitting at the table eating breakfast. When she caught sight of me getting up to leave, I felt like a deer in the headlights, until she just pointed to the corner and said, "Don't forget your bra." Embarrassed, I picked it up, stuffed it in my purse, and hightailed it out of there.
Then when I tried to log on to put it all in order, Greg came on with his story, and it really hit home. So I felt too ashamed to tell it. It just sort of sent me the message that, if I don't go back to my real body, this is my possible future.
He sent me an e-mail a while later, apologizing for being so forward. I have a response drafted up telling him it's all right, but I haven't sent it because I'm just not sure what I want to say... I don't want to lead him on, but if I have to let him down I'd better just do it. It's pretty obvious he has no idea what went wrong. No matter how much you try, it seems like someone's always gonna get hurt.
The whole "abstinence" thing just isn't as easy when people actually want you.
I was actually going to write about it when I logged on and read Greg's post, which really put me out of the mood.
Things had been going well in life. It was all a blur of fun bar nights, guys trying unsuccessfully to pick me up, movie nights, the occasional visit with Alia, and of course, more than a few private nights to myself.
This is my guilty pleasure. I shut the door to my room, and as quickly as I want, I can be naked, or down to my bra and panties. Man, when I was a guy, what I wouldn't have done to have complete access to a woman's body, in person. And now that I do, I'm just a little ashamed to admit how much liberty I've taken with it. As you know, I've gotten very comfortable taking things into my own hands. That's no secret. And hell, there's probably a bunch of you who would rather I just write about that.
But that's only part of being Tori, for me. I'd probably go insane with loneliness if that's all I did, because in my old life, well, it kind of was. With all the tools at my disposal, sometimes seems like I could be doing anything.
So this was Friday, April 1st. The day after Greg had posted his post, but before I'd read it. Raine, in her infinite boy-craziness, had arranged herself a date, and wanted me to come along to meet the guy's friend.
Oh, there's always a friend. This sounds bitchy coming from a girl, but from the male perspective, Tori is more attractive than Raine. I've put on some pounds since getting this body, due to lack of exercise, but I'm not a big eater, so it's balanced okay. All the original clothes that came with it still fit, with a couple exceptions. Raine is pretty in a curvy kind of way, and always looks more feminine than me anyway (deliberately on my part,) so I shoo the guys over to her and they forget about me pretty quickly. But oh, there's always a friend.
I know this, because when my best friend Justin and I would hit the bars, I was that friend. The difference is, I'd end up with the Raine while Justin took the Tori home. Having to meet so many of these guys has really put things into perspective for me. Either they stammer and have nothing to talk about, or they're boring and self-absorbed. Raine goes for Spencer Pratt wannabes, pretty boys, which I'm starting to resent, because of how nuts she goes for them.
But this was different. Raine's guy (I'll call him Guy,) is an environmental activist, with hippie-looking shoulder-length hair and a soulpatch. A real sensitive type. I'd met him once, but only heard about the friend.
Raine's Guy's Buddy (I'll call him Buddy) looked more like that guy from Weezer, with the short hair and the glasses. You know, "I look just like Buddy Holly." Alia probably knows the guy's name, but he's not online right now. Part of the reason I went along with Raine's double date is that they were going bowling, which I love. Justin and I were actually in a league in college, but since I've been Tori, my few attempts have been embarrassing because I keep failing at compensating for my altered center of gravity and anatomy (ie boobs throw me off balance.)
Anyway, since it was a pretty casual affair, I didn't have to dress up or anything, which meant capris (Philly was quite warm that week) and a fitted tee. My hair, I pulled back into a ponytail... I've just been letting it grow wild all winter. I should see a stylist before I go back to Maine but I don't know where to start with that.
So Buddy. seemed like a nice enough guy, and only glanced briefly at my breasts to start with. I asking him at first if he was into the environment like his friend, but he just shrugged his shoulders, "I mean, it's good for him, but I'm no activist or anything. I'm in webdesign." I engaged him in conversation about computers, and he paid me the respect of not treating me like I was weird for wanting to do so (admittedly our areas of expertise differ, but it was still neat not to have to pretend I'm just a dumb girl.)
"So are you a good bowler?" he asked.
I told him, "Oh, I used to be, before I got these," gesturing to my breasts.
"Oh, you can just use those to your advantage and distract your opponent."
I can't believe I laughed at that. Just a little. That's like, the oldest one in the boob joke book.
He wasn't awkward, but he wasn't cocky either. He didn't really act like it was a date, and admitted afterward, that like me, he was wary of fix-ups, and just wanted to have fun. He didn't even make any awkward attempts at handsiness as we all proceeded to drink, which put him way up in the win column over the other losers I've been forced to hang out with. The fact that we seemed to share the same sense of humor and like the same movies and that he's the first single guy I've been introduced to who didn't seem to be trying to impress me also worked in his favor. He'd get a gutter ball, point back at me and yell out, "That one was for you!"
At the end of the hour of bowling, we'd split a couple of pitchers between the four of us, and were thus all feeling quite giddy. Raine pulled me aside and asked, "What do you think of Buddy?" I told her, "He's pretty cool."
"So you like him?"
"Yeah, I mean... I don't know."
I was stammering to proclaim not like that but couldn't get it out when she said "You should go to his place."
"Uh, what?"
"Just go home with him, Tori. Give him a shot. It's been like a year since you've gotten any action and it's making you weird. I'm just trying to be a friend."
On another night, with another guy, I probably would have just blown her off and said she didn't know what she was talking about. But Buddy and I were hitting it off more than I have with any guy. For a second I thought to myself, "going home with him is like promising I'll... you know." But I realized it didn't have to. I felt like there was some way I could get out of going all the way -- which, as much as I liked the guy, I didn't want.
So we took the SEPTA bus back to his place. It was only Midnight by that point and I tend to get very keyed up late at night due to my odd hours. "If you see a girl's shoe around here, don't worry. I live with my sister, but she's at her boyfriend's tonight."
He brought us each a beer and grabbed his laptop to show me some funny YouTube videos he'd described earlier in the night. He set the computer up on the coffee table and we hunched over it on the couch. We had to sort of lean into each other to get a good view of the screen. I had my hand on his shoulder to steady myself. And then he kissed me. Just turned his head and planted a quick one on my lips.
I say that, but... it's not like he surprised me with it. Right when he did it, I was thinking to myself "I could totally see myself kissing him right now." So when he did it, just a quick peck to test it out, to give me a chance to push him away and storm out, I just kissed him back. Soon we had our arms around each other and he laid me back on the couch and we just started making out. I kept my hands on his sides while he pawed away at me -- and, okay, that felt awkward, but it was his reward for getting me this far along. Pretty soon, I could tell he was getting hard, and even found myself considering examining the evidence firsthand, but I chose to ignore it while he unclasped my bra and helped himself.
I could feel myself losing control, but I ignored the sirens in my head by slipping my top off over my head. He began to kiss my breasts while his hands went further and further south. And by the time they found their way to their destination, when I felt the initial jolt of his fingers, and it made me moan in a way I never have before. That was the point of no return.
And that's when I hit the brakes.
"Stop, stop, stop, stop," I gasped.
He did and looked up at me. "What's wrong?"
"I'm just... not ready. Too fast." He looked dismayed, but understanding. I elaborated. "You're a great guy and everything, but I'm just not up for this right now. I think I should go."
"The buses have stopped running by now," he reasoned, "I mean, even if we're not gonna -- and that's perfectly fine -- you might as well just stay the night."
"Yeah, that sounds fine," I sighed, putting my top back on. "I can sleep out here, no problem."
"Sure, I'll get you a blanket..."
So I tried to fall asleep for a few hours, sexually frustrated, with Alia's words ringing in my ears, along with all the confusion and guilt that goes along with this little adventure.
I woke up the next morning before he did, but in full view of his sister, who was sitting at the table eating breakfast. When she caught sight of me getting up to leave, I felt like a deer in the headlights, until she just pointed to the corner and said, "Don't forget your bra." Embarrassed, I picked it up, stuffed it in my purse, and hightailed it out of there.
Then when I tried to log on to put it all in order, Greg came on with his story, and it really hit home. So I felt too ashamed to tell it. It just sort of sent me the message that, if I don't go back to my real body, this is my possible future.
He sent me an e-mail a while later, apologizing for being so forward. I have a response drafted up telling him it's all right, but I haven't sent it because I'm just not sure what I want to say... I don't want to lead him on, but if I have to let him down I'd better just do it. It's pretty obvious he has no idea what went wrong. No matter how much you try, it seems like someone's always gonna get hurt.
The whole "abstinence" thing just isn't as easy when people actually want you.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Greg/Priya: Insurgency
Wow. So i did not check this blog once this week. I had to go to work and to do so I had to put this whole situation out of my mind. Its nearly impossible to teach a bunch of little kids and keep them straight and paying attention if your mind is wandering all day, so I did whatever I could to "be Priya" at work this week. I did pretty well, I didnt break down crying at school or anything, but there were some reminders of my old life that made me sad. Particular this one little girl who happens to be named Amber.
Anyway, when I got home Friday I checked the blog and found what I later confirmed to be a Trading Post Inn Blog record 12 comments on my post, most of which were full of great ideas on how to get my life back, some more feasible than others.
First off, Id like to thank Todd, Alia, and Cliff for being so empathetic and supportive. Although I will admit I didn't read most of Cliff's last post. I started skimming when he got to the part about a wedding and being a bridesmaid. I have been in contact with a few of them and the all pledged to help as much as they can.
The best idea any poster had was to do some research into Dee's life and see if shes telling truth. The body of Dolores Henderson is currently inhabited by Hilary Benson, a 30 year old pharmacy tech from Memphis. Hilary and I had emailed briefly when we set up the chain to get people back in their bodies, and she was still going back to the inn to get hers back, even if Dee wasnt planning on taking what she left there.
Hilary confirmed that Dee was an insurance adjuster living in Oxford, Mississippi, and that she was 45 and got divorced in 2008. What I didnt know about was that Dee had a kid who was nearly my age. A 22 year old daughter who moved to Dallas after high school. Apparently the empty nest helped put the divorce in motion.
Hilary couldnt give me many details about the divorce, because she didnt know them. Her ex husband had left the state afterwards and they havent spoken. She agreed to look at the legal documents and pry the kid for information the best she could.
One thing that did help was she sent pictures of her new body, clothed of course. Dee looked like a typical 45 year old. Not obese but some fat in a few areas, some wrinkles and a couple of gray hairs. Not the worst body I could think of, but not something I wanna spend my life in.
Anyway, before I go up and down and talk about realistic scenarios where I can mess with Dee enough to convince her to give my life back, Ive got to say that Im absolutely not going to do anything illegal. I cant risk it. If i get caught, its not Greg Schmitt getting the criminal record, its Priya Patel. And Priya is a friend of mine, and friends dont risk putting other friends bodies in lock up. If I go to jail and not the inn, neither of us gets our body back. Not to mention the fact that Kidnapping/Extortion are the quickest ways to get fired as a Kindergarten teacher.
The first legal suggestion made was to tell the boss. This sounds good, but probably wont do anything. For one thing I was "The Boss", or at least I was at that hotel. I was the general manager, meaning that my direct superior was a district manager from corporate who only came to the hotel twice a month. For another thing, employer/employee relationships are perfectly legal with our parent company, provided that they are consensual and that the proper paperwork is filled out once it becomes official. As to before they were official, im not sure I can do anything unless they did it at work. Also I'm not sure I want to do something that will get Greg Schmitt fired and have it say on Greg Schmitt's references that he was dismissed for sexual impropriety. Plus Heather would have to press charges. I dont know if any of the other employees would get jealous, Heather has always been my personal aide and shes the only one. I dont know if they could prove "preferential treatment".
This brings me a great idea someone had: Mess with Heather. This has real possibilities, but I'll have to be subtle. I cant go, as the person suggested, and befriend her and try to sabotage the relationship on the inside because Heather might recognize me from the day I confronted Dee at the hotel, and because Dee would know who I am and tell Heather to stay away from me.
I do like the idea of making Heather think SHES been cheated on. Somehow I'm going to find a way to get a pair of Priya's underwear in a position for Heather to see them. Thanks to yoga, Im much slimmer than both Heather and Amber, and she'll know the pair belongs to someone else. The trick will be getting access to her, as Dee moved out of my old apartment and I dont know her new address, nor Heathers. I tried looking it up on the hotel database from home, but all the passwords and login prompts had been changed. Makes me think Dee was taking precautions.
Im also going to try to find out a way to make Dee think that Heather is cheating. This is gonna require a little bit of stalking but I think a few anonymous flowers and candygrams might do the trick.
Im currently organizing everyone who would believe me to help send messages to Heather trying to tell her whats going on/ Greg is an asshole and she needs to break it off. This actually holds some promise because I'd imagine shed get curious and do a little research of her own. Im not afraid to have people call the hotel number either.
One person suggested making such a scene that the person who is behind the Inn would intervene to keep it from going public. Im not sure this'll work because:
1. Im not sure who is behind the Inn's curse
2. I dont think they need to intervene to keep this quiet. The curse has worked pretty effective over the past hundred plus years that nobody has gone public that we know of. Even this blog is viewed by most as little more than a work of fiction.
3. Considering the things that have happened to Ashlyn, I dont think I want to be in debt to "Pygmalion" or whomever.
Off of point number 2 above, someone suggested showing this blog to both Amber and Heather, and that Im going to do. But im not sure how much success I'll have. Theres something about the curse. When I first posted, it was before I was changed. I didnt even notice that the other posters were people who had been changed. Still, its worth a shot, and Im going to be emailing links to them when I can. Although I cant do as they suggested and make it a redirect for all logins on the hotel system, as I no longer have Admin access.
Again, thank you all for your suggestions. I'm going to start lining up the logistics of these things and start setting them into action. Im not about to watch my life get stolen without a fight. I'll keep you posted
-Greg
Anyway, when I got home Friday I checked the blog and found what I later confirmed to be a Trading Post Inn Blog record 12 comments on my post, most of which were full of great ideas on how to get my life back, some more feasible than others.
First off, Id like to thank Todd, Alia, and Cliff for being so empathetic and supportive. Although I will admit I didn't read most of Cliff's last post. I started skimming when he got to the part about a wedding and being a bridesmaid. I have been in contact with a few of them and the all pledged to help as much as they can.
The best idea any poster had was to do some research into Dee's life and see if shes telling truth. The body of Dolores Henderson is currently inhabited by Hilary Benson, a 30 year old pharmacy tech from Memphis. Hilary and I had emailed briefly when we set up the chain to get people back in their bodies, and she was still going back to the inn to get hers back, even if Dee wasnt planning on taking what she left there.
Hilary confirmed that Dee was an insurance adjuster living in Oxford, Mississippi, and that she was 45 and got divorced in 2008. What I didnt know about was that Dee had a kid who was nearly my age. A 22 year old daughter who moved to Dallas after high school. Apparently the empty nest helped put the divorce in motion.
Hilary couldnt give me many details about the divorce, because she didnt know them. Her ex husband had left the state afterwards and they havent spoken. She agreed to look at the legal documents and pry the kid for information the best she could.
One thing that did help was she sent pictures of her new body, clothed of course. Dee looked like a typical 45 year old. Not obese but some fat in a few areas, some wrinkles and a couple of gray hairs. Not the worst body I could think of, but not something I wanna spend my life in.
Anyway, before I go up and down and talk about realistic scenarios where I can mess with Dee enough to convince her to give my life back, Ive got to say that Im absolutely not going to do anything illegal. I cant risk it. If i get caught, its not Greg Schmitt getting the criminal record, its Priya Patel. And Priya is a friend of mine, and friends dont risk putting other friends bodies in lock up. If I go to jail and not the inn, neither of us gets our body back. Not to mention the fact that Kidnapping/Extortion are the quickest ways to get fired as a Kindergarten teacher.
The first legal suggestion made was to tell the boss. This sounds good, but probably wont do anything. For one thing I was "The Boss", or at least I was at that hotel. I was the general manager, meaning that my direct superior was a district manager from corporate who only came to the hotel twice a month. For another thing, employer/employee relationships are perfectly legal with our parent company, provided that they are consensual and that the proper paperwork is filled out once it becomes official. As to before they were official, im not sure I can do anything unless they did it at work. Also I'm not sure I want to do something that will get Greg Schmitt fired and have it say on Greg Schmitt's references that he was dismissed for sexual impropriety. Plus Heather would have to press charges. I dont know if any of the other employees would get jealous, Heather has always been my personal aide and shes the only one. I dont know if they could prove "preferential treatment".
This brings me a great idea someone had: Mess with Heather. This has real possibilities, but I'll have to be subtle. I cant go, as the person suggested, and befriend her and try to sabotage the relationship on the inside because Heather might recognize me from the day I confronted Dee at the hotel, and because Dee would know who I am and tell Heather to stay away from me.
I do like the idea of making Heather think SHES been cheated on. Somehow I'm going to find a way to get a pair of Priya's underwear in a position for Heather to see them. Thanks to yoga, Im much slimmer than both Heather and Amber, and she'll know the pair belongs to someone else. The trick will be getting access to her, as Dee moved out of my old apartment and I dont know her new address, nor Heathers. I tried looking it up on the hotel database from home, but all the passwords and login prompts had been changed. Makes me think Dee was taking precautions.
Im also going to try to find out a way to make Dee think that Heather is cheating. This is gonna require a little bit of stalking but I think a few anonymous flowers and candygrams might do the trick.
Im currently organizing everyone who would believe me to help send messages to Heather trying to tell her whats going on/ Greg is an asshole and she needs to break it off. This actually holds some promise because I'd imagine shed get curious and do a little research of her own. Im not afraid to have people call the hotel number either.
One person suggested making such a scene that the person who is behind the Inn would intervene to keep it from going public. Im not sure this'll work because:
1. Im not sure who is behind the Inn's curse
2. I dont think they need to intervene to keep this quiet. The curse has worked pretty effective over the past hundred plus years that nobody has gone public that we know of. Even this blog is viewed by most as little more than a work of fiction.
3. Considering the things that have happened to Ashlyn, I dont think I want to be in debt to "Pygmalion" or whomever.
Off of point number 2 above, someone suggested showing this blog to both Amber and Heather, and that Im going to do. But im not sure how much success I'll have. Theres something about the curse. When I first posted, it was before I was changed. I didnt even notice that the other posters were people who had been changed. Still, its worth a shot, and Im going to be emailing links to them when I can. Although I cant do as they suggested and make it a redirect for all logins on the hotel system, as I no longer have Admin access.
Again, thank you all for your suggestions. I'm going to start lining up the logistics of these things and start setting them into action. Im not about to watch my life get stolen without a fight. I'll keep you posted
-Greg
Todd: Babysitter
Cliff's not kidding when he says that when something happens to a fellow Inn-person, you take it on yourself. Nearly a year after being myself -- although I haven't felt a whole lot like myself in that time -- I still have nightmares where I'm forced into going back to the Inn or where I never did. Where I'm still Anne-Marie.
I describe them as nightmares because even at the best of times it was a drag (...no pun intended.) Constantly playing wife and mother was not my idea of a holiday, piling on menstrual cramps, physical weakness, the occasional migraine and breast-tenderness for scenery. There was a time when sex was the most important thing in my life (roughly the years between 2000 and 2008) but having a nice female orgasm every now and again -- really inconsistently -- was just not enough to make me look back fondly on my time as Anne-Marie. And those, kids, I loved 'em, but half the time I had no idea what to do about them. This was particularly obvious when I just didn't know what to say when their grandfather died. I was not cut out for motherhood.
I've kept in contact with Anne-Marie, just a little. We exchange the occasional e-mail but for the most part she's technophobic (being Julia helped this just a little, but still) so her information comes out in dribs and drabs. She's also a fairly private person... which is odd considering I've done stuff with her husband. I'm guessing this stems from a desire to put the entire experience behind her, which I can't say I blame her.
But she does vent, every now and again, because she at least knows she can rely on me for support. So when she notices little Ellie, now at 16, has grown into a bit of a troubled teen, she can't help but blame her time as Kalli. Ellie's showing a rebellious streak that definitely wasn't the case before the change, but in a way, Bryan probably acted anyway. I suggested it was possible the whole "lesbian" thing may have somehow gotten out, leading to some bitterness. For context, I asked whether Ellie was seeing anyone, and Anne-Marie said she didn't know. That year as "roommates" did a lot to damage their once-close relationship.
Somewhere, I suspect Ellie's mother is claiming a victory on that one (if a slightly Pyrrhic one.)
And speaking of teenage daughters, Hayley reacted very negatively to Anne-Marie's return. I know I wasn't that stern of an authority figure, but I didn't realize how lax I'd been until Anne-Marie came back and started laying down the law. I always thought of Hayley as a bright, friendly presence, a genuinely sweet girl, but lately I guess she's just following in her cousin's "bitter teen girl" footsteps.
Anyway. These are problems everyone goes through, and as much guilt as I feel about leaving Anne-Marie and Ellie to resolve their own issues, it's just not part of my world anymore. I've left Connecticut behind. But of course that doesn't mean I can forget Maine.
No, what Greg's predicament really reminded me of -- and forgive me for being self-centered here but I can only say "Sorry to hear that, Greg" a couple times before it loses meaning -- was Alia. And Crystal and Bryan. And how, even though I've read enough of this blog to know better, it just seemed unfathomable that someone would just try to abscond with another person's body. It's the old Inn curse at work again I guess. You don't believe it until it happens to you. That never stopped me from eying Crystal suspiciously, but this really illustrated the distinction between the situations.
Suddenly -- and I never thought I'd get to this point -- I'm actually grateful to Bry for what he's done. As perverse as his entire plan was, it seems to be working. No, I don't generally approve of using sex as a weapon (anymore) and I definitely don't approve of him getting busy with my girlfriend's body, it seems to be going well.
I know this because, as a favour to Sean Flaherty and Erica, I agreed to babysit little Katie last night while they had their first date night since the baby's birth. Feeling a bit squeamish about being left alone with an infant, I reached out to the only person I could find: Crystal.
"I'm glad you called me," she said when she arrived, "I love babies. Did I ever tell you that?"
"Yeah, I think you mentioned it once or twice." It was actually all she could talk about when the subject of Erica's pregnancy would come up.
After a while, we got to talking. "I just always regretted certain aspects of my life," she said, "I put off being a mother in favour of a career, and then my career didn't work out well, and then one day I woke up, I was nearly forty, unmarried, childless..."
"Have you thought about what's going to happen after you go back?" I emphasized these last words, as if to say You are going back, right?
"I... am," she said, drawing that one out a bit too long for my liking, "I really do like Bryan. I might even love him. But if he knew the real me, if he saw what I really looked like, he might not be so... enthusiastic."
I told her that seemed unlikely. Bryan is the only person I know to have gotten a chubby from the six-breasted stripper in Jabba's palace in Return of the Jedi. The man has extremely broad tastes. I did not mention this, however, as that comparison is probably not welcome.
We spoke a bit more about her and Bryan's relationship, but out of respect I won't transcribe, since a lot of it was personal. Not just the sex stuff, but certain, shall we say, insecurities that come from being a woman her age.
After she changed the kid and put her down for a nap, she studied my face, "I still don't see it. This man I am sitting next to was once somebody's wife."
"For a while, yeah," I laughed, "But I'm retired from the wifing business." She listened, in rapt attention while I shared some of my fond memories of Conner and Hayley. She told me about her niece and nephew, whom she hadn't seen in years because they live out west in Wyoming of all places.
"So did you learn anything important about women when you were one?"
"Sure," I smirked, "That it's simultaneously very easy and very difficult to turn down sex." She burst out in laughter -- an eerie mutation of the laugh I'm most used to from Alia. A bit throatier. It made me uncomfortable, on some level. But it was a laugh nonetheless.
"You sound like Bryan! He told me about his whole lesbian thing. Jeez, what is it with you guys? It's all about sex. Never mind being in a different social status, being stared at or objectified or marginalized or forced to wear uncomfortable clothes and make-up just to look good, or being small -- all you want to know is where your next lay comes from!" She smiled and shook her head.
I responded, jokingly, "Oh, yeah? What about you? How long were you in Alia's body before you hooked up with Bry?"
"Okay, that's not fair. We started off just as friends, and we seriously just bonded. It was the most natural..." she hesitated, growing visibly uncomfortable with being so open.
I interrupted, "No, it's okay, I get it. I was just kidding about it."
"No, it's fair. I mean, you've been a woman, it's only fair if I level with you. When I found out what I'd become, it definitely didn't take me long to start feeling sexual again. And then when I saw the two of you..." She paused. "Can I be honest? Don't take this the wrong way, because I'm so happy with Bryan I can't even believe it, but when I first saw the two of you, you were the one I was more interested in."
Say what.
"I don't know. Maybe it was Alia's body pointing me in your direction. Maybe it was the way she described you in her letter, maybe it was your look. I can't explain it, but at first glance, it was you. But you were very quiet, very dark at the time... probably because of Alia, I suppose. You were so closed-off that I never had a chance to get to know you until recently. No offense."
"Yeah, I was pretty bitter at the time," I admitted, "I didn't have much direction in life, I was real confused how this was all going to shake out. It took months before I could start being myself again."
We both pondered, quietly, for a moment. I don't know what she was thinking of, but I was just feeling thankful that my morose outlook had saved me from further complicating things with Alia, and allowed this whole Bryan/Crystal thing to happen.
In an ideal world, none of this would've happened anyway, but here we are.
I learned more about Crystal as a person in that night than I had in all the months she's been here. In a way, it was incredibly eerie talking to her, because I couldn't help but be reminded of all the amazing talks I've had with Alia over the years. But at the same time, it helped me confront some of my own anxieties.
Crystal, I think, is one of the good ones. I trust her. I'm still jittery about things, and you can never tell what's going to happen, but I know she's doing her part, which is enough for me.
-Todd
I describe them as nightmares because even at the best of times it was a drag (...no pun intended.) Constantly playing wife and mother was not my idea of a holiday, piling on menstrual cramps, physical weakness, the occasional migraine and breast-tenderness for scenery. There was a time when sex was the most important thing in my life (roughly the years between 2000 and 2008) but having a nice female orgasm every now and again -- really inconsistently -- was just not enough to make me look back fondly on my time as Anne-Marie. And those, kids, I loved 'em, but half the time I had no idea what to do about them. This was particularly obvious when I just didn't know what to say when their grandfather died. I was not cut out for motherhood.
I've kept in contact with Anne-Marie, just a little. We exchange the occasional e-mail but for the most part she's technophobic (being Julia helped this just a little, but still) so her information comes out in dribs and drabs. She's also a fairly private person... which is odd considering I've done stuff with her husband. I'm guessing this stems from a desire to put the entire experience behind her, which I can't say I blame her.
But she does vent, every now and again, because she at least knows she can rely on me for support. So when she notices little Ellie, now at 16, has grown into a bit of a troubled teen, she can't help but blame her time as Kalli. Ellie's showing a rebellious streak that definitely wasn't the case before the change, but in a way, Bryan probably acted anyway. I suggested it was possible the whole "lesbian" thing may have somehow gotten out, leading to some bitterness. For context, I asked whether Ellie was seeing anyone, and Anne-Marie said she didn't know. That year as "roommates" did a lot to damage their once-close relationship.
Somewhere, I suspect Ellie's mother is claiming a victory on that one (if a slightly Pyrrhic one.)
And speaking of teenage daughters, Hayley reacted very negatively to Anne-Marie's return. I know I wasn't that stern of an authority figure, but I didn't realize how lax I'd been until Anne-Marie came back and started laying down the law. I always thought of Hayley as a bright, friendly presence, a genuinely sweet girl, but lately I guess she's just following in her cousin's "bitter teen girl" footsteps.
Anyway. These are problems everyone goes through, and as much guilt as I feel about leaving Anne-Marie and Ellie to resolve their own issues, it's just not part of my world anymore. I've left Connecticut behind. But of course that doesn't mean I can forget Maine.
No, what Greg's predicament really reminded me of -- and forgive me for being self-centered here but I can only say "Sorry to hear that, Greg" a couple times before it loses meaning -- was Alia. And Crystal and Bryan. And how, even though I've read enough of this blog to know better, it just seemed unfathomable that someone would just try to abscond with another person's body. It's the old Inn curse at work again I guess. You don't believe it until it happens to you. That never stopped me from eying Crystal suspiciously, but this really illustrated the distinction between the situations.
Suddenly -- and I never thought I'd get to this point -- I'm actually grateful to Bry for what he's done. As perverse as his entire plan was, it seems to be working. No, I don't generally approve of using sex as a weapon (anymore) and I definitely don't approve of him getting busy with my girlfriend's body, it seems to be going well.
I know this because, as a favour to Sean Flaherty and Erica, I agreed to babysit little Katie last night while they had their first date night since the baby's birth. Feeling a bit squeamish about being left alone with an infant, I reached out to the only person I could find: Crystal.
"I'm glad you called me," she said when she arrived, "I love babies. Did I ever tell you that?"
"Yeah, I think you mentioned it once or twice." It was actually all she could talk about when the subject of Erica's pregnancy would come up.
After a while, we got to talking. "I just always regretted certain aspects of my life," she said, "I put off being a mother in favour of a career, and then my career didn't work out well, and then one day I woke up, I was nearly forty, unmarried, childless..."
"Have you thought about what's going to happen after you go back?" I emphasized these last words, as if to say You are going back, right?
"I... am," she said, drawing that one out a bit too long for my liking, "I really do like Bryan. I might even love him. But if he knew the real me, if he saw what I really looked like, he might not be so... enthusiastic."
I told her that seemed unlikely. Bryan is the only person I know to have gotten a chubby from the six-breasted stripper in Jabba's palace in Return of the Jedi. The man has extremely broad tastes. I did not mention this, however, as that comparison is probably not welcome.
We spoke a bit more about her and Bryan's relationship, but out of respect I won't transcribe, since a lot of it was personal. Not just the sex stuff, but certain, shall we say, insecurities that come from being a woman her age.
After she changed the kid and put her down for a nap, she studied my face, "I still don't see it. This man I am sitting next to was once somebody's wife."
"For a while, yeah," I laughed, "But I'm retired from the wifing business." She listened, in rapt attention while I shared some of my fond memories of Conner and Hayley. She told me about her niece and nephew, whom she hadn't seen in years because they live out west in Wyoming of all places.
"So did you learn anything important about women when you were one?"
"Sure," I smirked, "That it's simultaneously very easy and very difficult to turn down sex." She burst out in laughter -- an eerie mutation of the laugh I'm most used to from Alia. A bit throatier. It made me uncomfortable, on some level. But it was a laugh nonetheless.
"You sound like Bryan! He told me about his whole lesbian thing. Jeez, what is it with you guys? It's all about sex. Never mind being in a different social status, being stared at or objectified or marginalized or forced to wear uncomfortable clothes and make-up just to look good, or being small -- all you want to know is where your next lay comes from!" She smiled and shook her head.
I responded, jokingly, "Oh, yeah? What about you? How long were you in Alia's body before you hooked up with Bry?"
"Okay, that's not fair. We started off just as friends, and we seriously just bonded. It was the most natural..." she hesitated, growing visibly uncomfortable with being so open.
I interrupted, "No, it's okay, I get it. I was just kidding about it."
"No, it's fair. I mean, you've been a woman, it's only fair if I level with you. When I found out what I'd become, it definitely didn't take me long to start feeling sexual again. And then when I saw the two of you..." She paused. "Can I be honest? Don't take this the wrong way, because I'm so happy with Bryan I can't even believe it, but when I first saw the two of you, you were the one I was more interested in."
Say what.
"I don't know. Maybe it was Alia's body pointing me in your direction. Maybe it was the way she described you in her letter, maybe it was your look. I can't explain it, but at first glance, it was you. But you were very quiet, very dark at the time... probably because of Alia, I suppose. You were so closed-off that I never had a chance to get to know you until recently. No offense."
"Yeah, I was pretty bitter at the time," I admitted, "I didn't have much direction in life, I was real confused how this was all going to shake out. It took months before I could start being myself again."
We both pondered, quietly, for a moment. I don't know what she was thinking of, but I was just feeling thankful that my morose outlook had saved me from further complicating things with Alia, and allowed this whole Bryan/Crystal thing to happen.
In an ideal world, none of this would've happened anyway, but here we are.
I learned more about Crystal as a person in that night than I had in all the months she's been here. In a way, it was incredibly eerie talking to her, because I couldn't help but be reminded of all the amazing talks I've had with Alia over the years. But at the same time, it helped me confront some of my own anxieties.
Crystal, I think, is one of the good ones. I trust her. I'm still jittery about things, and you can never tell what's going to happen, but I know she's doing her part, which is enough for me.
-Todd
Wednesday, April 07, 2010
Cliff/Tori: Support
I haven't been on in a few weeks, barely even checked the blog (I mainly do when Alia tells me he posted) because I'd been, as weird as this sounds, enjoying life.
I know, I feel extremely guilty about writing that right now, but at the time, it was the truth. The weather got very gorgeous very quickly and unlike last summer I was not feeling self-conscious about my body. I've long since (well, depending on your count) accepted that for the time being, I look like this, I wear these clothes, I should make myself comfortable. So if I need to shave my legs and underarms so I can show some bare leg and shoulder, so be it. I was feeling good about feeling good. On the home stretch of my return to the Inn, time started to fly.
I don't know. It was just a good time to be Cliff being Tori. As miserable as the work days sometimes are, I got through them, then hung out with "the gang" at Raine and Sara's place, or the bar, or wherever. I didn't even feel bad about taking the night for myself occasionally, just to come home and relax, because I've been more social in the last few months than I've been in years.
Then I logged onto the blog late on April 1 or I guess the 2nd by then, and there was Greg's post. And it just hit my like a ton of bricks. All the carefree attitude I had the last few weeks just disintegrated in the harsh reality of it.
Suddenly all the fun I'd been having didn't seem so fun. The clothes, the hair, the boobs, and everything else that came with it, felt very bitter to me.
Greg, I'm so sorry about what's happening with you. Seriously. I don't even know what I would do if I found myself in your situation (crawl into a hole and die maybe.) Suddenly all the paranoia about not getting my body back has hit me again. The first thing I did after I read that post was e-mail Willy to make sure we were still cool. The fact that he took several days to get back to me (two days but it felt like a week) did not ease my mind.
He assured me that yes, everything was still going to plan, and that if I was really uncertain about it I should come up to Buffalo and check in on him for Easter. As much as that would set things straight for me, I still couldn't go through with it. I still carry a sneaking suspicion that he might want to try picking up where we left off, getting a few bonus miles out of our bodies before we go back. And my own suspicions that I may not be strong enough to resist the urge to try, because I already know how I'd rationalize it (oh, it's my body, he knows who I really am, it's not like he loves Tori or anything.) Best to avoid the problem altogether.
Not to mention, separating myself from the Pearces has become very difficult lately -- it's not like those first few months where I just stayed out of their way. "Mom" and I cook together and we all have movie nights and other weirdly home-sweet-home stuff. We're not the Brady Bunch but this isn't Married with Children either.
But finally, I just wasn't in the mood for anything this weekend. The entire time, the knowledge that one of us isn't making it back to the Inn -- I don't know Greg except through the blog, but I do know we're going through the same thing (except he's lost his fiancee to boot, which makes it way worse than anything that could happen to me) and I do feel a connection there. It's like that thing someone was telling Todd about the mushrooms. We're all part of a big secret family.
It all just weighed on my shoulders the entire weekend. So I just kinda sat, catatonic, while being welcomed to Tori's uncle's place (the same place we spent Christmas) by a parade of relatives whose names and backstories I have a hard time keeping straight. "Oh there's uncle whatsisface who brew his own wine, and Aunt whoosits and her three kids." Even more confusingly, both Dad's and Mom's side came by for the dinner, which was crazy, but I guess I didn't realize that the two halves of the family could be close. Repeatedly, I had to have embarrassing conversations where I attempted to account for the state of Tori's life. No, haven't really decided what career I want, still not dating anyone, blah blah. These things that hopefully will not be my problems in a few months..... yet by constantly having to address them it reminded me of what it would be like if they were. Which means really, they might as well be. And all the while, everyone's sort of disguising their disappointment with my apparent lack of direction, and I don't have any human connection whatsoever.
And then Ken shows up.
God bless Ken. Tori's older brother has been extremely cool the few times I've met him, and from our increasingly amusing conversations on MSN/Facebook. They have a very strong relationship and thankfully that has transplanted over to me. I just like the dude. He's like the brother I never had -- which is ironic in a way because I do have a brother, I just don't get along with him as well as I'd like.
Mae even brought Ed along, although they disappeared early and only returned for dinner... so...... yeah.
Anyway, Ken was there with his fiancee Jana. He proposed on New Year's, and she's been in crazy wedding-planning mode for a few months. They're planning a fall wedding. Most of the family loves her, although I think she's a little boring. Pretty, though, in a classic beauty kind of way. But if you saw me say that out loud, it would seem kind of bitchy, because I've heard myself-as-Tori described in similar ways (more like "pretty but weird.")
Ken made the rounds, and let Jana bond with the other women, and found me to try to bring me out of my gloom. He was a great guy for trying but at that point I was feeling really low. He asked me about it and I was evasive.
"It's just... life stuff. I mean, I'm doing okay for now, but I'm not sure where I go from here." It was totally in-character stuff, covering for my real problems with the believable fakes.
Ken admitted that telemarketing really didn't sound like a good long-term plan, but if it wasn't killing me, it was good enough to keep at until I figure out something better. I told him that wasn't very good advice, and he grinned and shrugged, "What do you want to hear from me? I have the worst job, but I'm happy enough that I don't care." He works in banks or something nonspecific like that.
I was puzzled. "If you hate your job so much, why do you consider yourself happy?"
"I'm getting married soon, Vic." Only Ken and Mae call me Vic. I kinda like it (because if you squint your ears it sounds like Cliff.) "I'm in love with an amazing woman, I don't mean to rub it in or anything, but I couldn't care less about job satisfaction right now."
This did not help. On top of everything else, part of the reason I was supposedly miserable is that I'm single? I didn't want to admit it, but even when I was doing IT, which I liked (despite not being passionate about it, I felt needed and was good at it, so I generally liked it) I knew that yeah, loneliness was a problem. But I had just started being happy being my version of Tori. Why'd he have to rub it in? I just gritted my teeth.
"I don't know," he added, "Maybe it's not a relationship. Maybe it is the job. Maybe it's everything."
"Yeah, it's everything." I sighed, forcing a laugh.
"Maybe it's because you live at--" he stopped himself.
There was a pause before I finished the thought "At home? Yeah. That probably doesn't help."
Look, it's not my place to start rearranging Tori's whole life, especially not now, and as much as I've come to like the Pearces, I can't deny that if I had my choice, I'd be out on my own. But again, it's all the "I'm not myself, this is not my life" stress. I just couldn't express any of that.
So we changed the subject.
"So, I was talking to Jana," he said, "And she kind of liked the idea that you and Mae would be her bridesmaids." That was a bit startling. Thinking back, it was maybe a bit rude to just be stone cold about it, like "Yeah, that'll be fun," showing no enthusiasm. I know I'm not planning on being around for it, but at this time I was practically convinced that I was, and it all just... ugh, it's all too much.
Ken seemed disappointed that this didn't cheer me up (it totally would've been Tori's thing) and that really drove home how much of a mood I was in. Ken and Jana were stayign at our place, and that night, we rented Zombieland... they were cuddled on the couch to one side, I was on the other, and I have to admit, seeing them be so close was really a bummer. Ken wasn't totally wrong, but he couldn't know that he was the one I was really jealous of.
It all just comes back to wanting to be a man holding a girl like that.
So I just thought I'd get that off my chest. Sorry to be so self-obsessed at a time when Greg has some real problems, though. I feel kind of useless because I just have no idea how I'd handle a situation like that. I hope you get it sorted out.
The rest of us just have to keep living the way we are.
I know, I feel extremely guilty about writing that right now, but at the time, it was the truth. The weather got very gorgeous very quickly and unlike last summer I was not feeling self-conscious about my body. I've long since (well, depending on your count) accepted that for the time being, I look like this, I wear these clothes, I should make myself comfortable. So if I need to shave my legs and underarms so I can show some bare leg and shoulder, so be it. I was feeling good about feeling good. On the home stretch of my return to the Inn, time started to fly.
I don't know. It was just a good time to be Cliff being Tori. As miserable as the work days sometimes are, I got through them, then hung out with "the gang" at Raine and Sara's place, or the bar, or wherever. I didn't even feel bad about taking the night for myself occasionally, just to come home and relax, because I've been more social in the last few months than I've been in years.
Then I logged onto the blog late on April 1 or I guess the 2nd by then, and there was Greg's post. And it just hit my like a ton of bricks. All the carefree attitude I had the last few weeks just disintegrated in the harsh reality of it.
Suddenly all the fun I'd been having didn't seem so fun. The clothes, the hair, the boobs, and everything else that came with it, felt very bitter to me.
Greg, I'm so sorry about what's happening with you. Seriously. I don't even know what I would do if I found myself in your situation (crawl into a hole and die maybe.) Suddenly all the paranoia about not getting my body back has hit me again. The first thing I did after I read that post was e-mail Willy to make sure we were still cool. The fact that he took several days to get back to me (two days but it felt like a week) did not ease my mind.
He assured me that yes, everything was still going to plan, and that if I was really uncertain about it I should come up to Buffalo and check in on him for Easter. As much as that would set things straight for me, I still couldn't go through with it. I still carry a sneaking suspicion that he might want to try picking up where we left off, getting a few bonus miles out of our bodies before we go back. And my own suspicions that I may not be strong enough to resist the urge to try, because I already know how I'd rationalize it (oh, it's my body, he knows who I really am, it's not like he loves Tori or anything.) Best to avoid the problem altogether.
Not to mention, separating myself from the Pearces has become very difficult lately -- it's not like those first few months where I just stayed out of their way. "Mom" and I cook together and we all have movie nights and other weirdly home-sweet-home stuff. We're not the Brady Bunch but this isn't Married with Children either.
But finally, I just wasn't in the mood for anything this weekend. The entire time, the knowledge that one of us isn't making it back to the Inn -- I don't know Greg except through the blog, but I do know we're going through the same thing (except he's lost his fiancee to boot, which makes it way worse than anything that could happen to me) and I do feel a connection there. It's like that thing someone was telling Todd about the mushrooms. We're all part of a big secret family.
It all just weighed on my shoulders the entire weekend. So I just kinda sat, catatonic, while being welcomed to Tori's uncle's place (the same place we spent Christmas) by a parade of relatives whose names and backstories I have a hard time keeping straight. "Oh there's uncle whatsisface who brew his own wine, and Aunt whoosits and her three kids." Even more confusingly, both Dad's and Mom's side came by for the dinner, which was crazy, but I guess I didn't realize that the two halves of the family could be close. Repeatedly, I had to have embarrassing conversations where I attempted to account for the state of Tori's life. No, haven't really decided what career I want, still not dating anyone, blah blah. These things that hopefully will not be my problems in a few months..... yet by constantly having to address them it reminded me of what it would be like if they were. Which means really, they might as well be. And all the while, everyone's sort of disguising their disappointment with my apparent lack of direction, and I don't have any human connection whatsoever.
And then Ken shows up.
God bless Ken. Tori's older brother has been extremely cool the few times I've met him, and from our increasingly amusing conversations on MSN/Facebook. They have a very strong relationship and thankfully that has transplanted over to me. I just like the dude. He's like the brother I never had -- which is ironic in a way because I do have a brother, I just don't get along with him as well as I'd like.
Mae even brought Ed along, although they disappeared early and only returned for dinner... so...... yeah.
Anyway, Ken was there with his fiancee Jana. He proposed on New Year's, and she's been in crazy wedding-planning mode for a few months. They're planning a fall wedding. Most of the family loves her, although I think she's a little boring. Pretty, though, in a classic beauty kind of way. But if you saw me say that out loud, it would seem kind of bitchy, because I've heard myself-as-Tori described in similar ways (more like "pretty but weird.")
Ken made the rounds, and let Jana bond with the other women, and found me to try to bring me out of my gloom. He was a great guy for trying but at that point I was feeling really low. He asked me about it and I was evasive.
"It's just... life stuff. I mean, I'm doing okay for now, but I'm not sure where I go from here." It was totally in-character stuff, covering for my real problems with the believable fakes.
Ken admitted that telemarketing really didn't sound like a good long-term plan, but if it wasn't killing me, it was good enough to keep at until I figure out something better. I told him that wasn't very good advice, and he grinned and shrugged, "What do you want to hear from me? I have the worst job, but I'm happy enough that I don't care." He works in banks or something nonspecific like that.
I was puzzled. "If you hate your job so much, why do you consider yourself happy?"
"I'm getting married soon, Vic." Only Ken and Mae call me Vic. I kinda like it (because if you squint your ears it sounds like Cliff.) "I'm in love with an amazing woman, I don't mean to rub it in or anything, but I couldn't care less about job satisfaction right now."
This did not help. On top of everything else, part of the reason I was supposedly miserable is that I'm single? I didn't want to admit it, but even when I was doing IT, which I liked (despite not being passionate about it, I felt needed and was good at it, so I generally liked it) I knew that yeah, loneliness was a problem. But I had just started being happy being my version of Tori. Why'd he have to rub it in? I just gritted my teeth.
"I don't know," he added, "Maybe it's not a relationship. Maybe it is the job. Maybe it's everything."
"Yeah, it's everything." I sighed, forcing a laugh.
"Maybe it's because you live at--" he stopped himself.
There was a pause before I finished the thought "At home? Yeah. That probably doesn't help."
Look, it's not my place to start rearranging Tori's whole life, especially not now, and as much as I've come to like the Pearces, I can't deny that if I had my choice, I'd be out on my own. But again, it's all the "I'm not myself, this is not my life" stress. I just couldn't express any of that.
So we changed the subject.
"So, I was talking to Jana," he said, "And she kind of liked the idea that you and Mae would be her bridesmaids." That was a bit startling. Thinking back, it was maybe a bit rude to just be stone cold about it, like "Yeah, that'll be fun," showing no enthusiasm. I know I'm not planning on being around for it, but at this time I was practically convinced that I was, and it all just... ugh, it's all too much.
Ken seemed disappointed that this didn't cheer me up (it totally would've been Tori's thing) and that really drove home how much of a mood I was in. Ken and Jana were stayign at our place, and that night, we rented Zombieland... they were cuddled on the couch to one side, I was on the other, and I have to admit, seeing them be so close was really a bummer. Ken wasn't totally wrong, but he couldn't know that he was the one I was really jealous of.
It all just comes back to wanting to be a man holding a girl like that.
So I just thought I'd get that off my chest. Sorry to be so self-obsessed at a time when Greg has some real problems, though. I feel kind of useless because I just have no idea how I'd handle a situation like that. I hope you get it sorted out.
The rest of us just have to keep living the way we are.
Sunday, April 04, 2010
Greg/Priya: No, I wasnt joking
Wow, did I get a lot of comments on my last post, for which I'm grateful. Its good to know that people pay attention and give insight into my situation.
Most of the commentators were debating on whether or not it was an April Fool's post, and it most definitely wasn't. Apparently my world came crashing down on a day when people were least likely to believe it happened. I didn't even think about the date at time.
One person who left a comment was all on board with the kidnapping and detailed 3 disturbingly complex and well thought out scenarios.
One idea was to drug my old body and have myself or an accomplice take it to Maine. This wouldn't work because I don't think comatose people can get on airplanes. Also I look nothing like my old body and could never pass off as a relative. The whole being Indian thing is a dead giveaway. And an accomplice would be difficult to get because nobody would believe why I'm taking the body to Maine, thanks to the curse.
Another idea was to hold my old body at gunpoint and take to Maine. This would be next to impossible because I live in the state with probably the toughest gun laws as well as the fact that someone so much bigger than me would probably escape along the way.
His last idea was to arrange for Heather to take a trip to Maine and use it as a way to leverage Dee. I don't know how I would get a total stranger to go on a trip, and I think my former body would be able to talk her out of it.
Two posters had an entirely different idea, which was to take Amber to the inn, have her transform and then explain that it wasn't me that broke us up. (The commentators used the name "Heather" but in context the meant Amber, id imagine its easy to mix the two up since I don't label my posts with keywords). This scenario is right out never gonna happen. What if Amber got turned into a little kid? Or an old person? Or someone stole her body? Take it from me folks, you don't send someone you care about to the Trading Post Inn.
Anyway, the very next day I got a phone call from someone who thought it MUST be an April Fool's hoax. Priya. In all my sorrows I totally forgot that I had her life and staying in it would make me no worse than Dee. And Priyas my friend, and I owe it to her to give her life back. This means Ill be going back to the Inn this summer even if my body doesn't.
The last commenter said a few things that I wanna clear up. They said:
"something here doesn't make sense. If Dee truly was a married, heterosexual woman in her previous life, then it seems extremely odd that she would fall passionately in love with another woman less than a year after landing in Greg's body. According to testimony presented in this blog since its inception by the various inn victims who have experienced a gender change, the body change doesn't automatically produce a corresponding mental change regarding sexual preference. So, for the relationship with Heather to have developed at all, Dee would have to be either a)bisexual or b)lying about "her" previous life. Or c)this truly is an "April Fools" post."
Let me point something out from someone who knows first hand. You take the sexual orientation of the body you have on. I was a heterosexual male and as discussed before, women do absolutely nothing for me now. Not even Amber.
This has been documented as well by all other previous posters. Ashlyn and Liz started being with men eventually, and as far as I know they're still into guys. Todd spent an entire year having sex with a man as his wife. So while the inn doesn't trigger a corresponding mental change, it does trigger a physical attraction that matches the body's previous owner. Once the previous posters got over their qualms about having sex, they had no problem doing it. My theory is that Dee had sex with Amber on her first night in town, thus breaking down any mental barriers pretty quickly. It might have clouded her thinking, causing her to look at all women that way, hence going after Heather.
Although to be honest I have no idea whether or not Dee was lying about her previous life. I havent seen a photo or anything, never bothered to check up on that.
That same poster also had the best idea of them all, which is to try and sabotage Dee and Heathers relationship, causing her to have no motivation to stay in my body and to give it back. If any of you out there have ideas on how to accomplish this, they would be greatly appreciated.
Anyway, since my last post I've had a lot of time to think about my options for the future. I finally wrapped my head around it all today, seeing as I was alone and the city was mostly quiet for Easter. But since Hindus don't celebrate Easter, it was just a Sunday for the Patel family.
As I said before, im going to have to go back to the Inn. But since there's a chain of 3 people or so on each side of me looking to get back into their bodies by staying in the same room as me (Priya included) that means Im probably gonna have to go in and fill in the gap. Which more than likely means that come July i'll turn into Deb. Which I don't plan on as a long term solution but its the only body available as of now. Maybe ill find someone who WANTS to be her and get a new life that way, but as of right now im not looking forward to it.
-Greg (still and always on the inside.
Most of the commentators were debating on whether or not it was an April Fool's post, and it most definitely wasn't. Apparently my world came crashing down on a day when people were least likely to believe it happened. I didn't even think about the date at time.
One person who left a comment was all on board with the kidnapping and detailed 3 disturbingly complex and well thought out scenarios.
One idea was to drug my old body and have myself or an accomplice take it to Maine. This wouldn't work because I don't think comatose people can get on airplanes. Also I look nothing like my old body and could never pass off as a relative. The whole being Indian thing is a dead giveaway. And an accomplice would be difficult to get because nobody would believe why I'm taking the body to Maine, thanks to the curse.
Another idea was to hold my old body at gunpoint and take to Maine. This would be next to impossible because I live in the state with probably the toughest gun laws as well as the fact that someone so much bigger than me would probably escape along the way.
His last idea was to arrange for Heather to take a trip to Maine and use it as a way to leverage Dee. I don't know how I would get a total stranger to go on a trip, and I think my former body would be able to talk her out of it.
Two posters had an entirely different idea, which was to take Amber to the inn, have her transform and then explain that it wasn't me that broke us up. (The commentators used the name "Heather" but in context the meant Amber, id imagine its easy to mix the two up since I don't label my posts with keywords). This scenario is right out never gonna happen. What if Amber got turned into a little kid? Or an old person? Or someone stole her body? Take it from me folks, you don't send someone you care about to the Trading Post Inn.
Anyway, the very next day I got a phone call from someone who thought it MUST be an April Fool's hoax. Priya. In all my sorrows I totally forgot that I had her life and staying in it would make me no worse than Dee. And Priyas my friend, and I owe it to her to give her life back. This means Ill be going back to the Inn this summer even if my body doesn't.
The last commenter said a few things that I wanna clear up. They said:
"something here doesn't make sense. If Dee truly was a married, heterosexual woman in her previous life, then it seems extremely odd that she would fall passionately in love with another woman less than a year after landing in Greg's body. According to testimony presented in this blog since its inception by the various inn victims who have experienced a gender change, the body change doesn't automatically produce a corresponding mental change regarding sexual preference. So, for the relationship with Heather to have developed at all, Dee would have to be either a)bisexual or b)lying about "her" previous life. Or c)this truly is an "April Fools" post."
Let me point something out from someone who knows first hand. You take the sexual orientation of the body you have on. I was a heterosexual male and as discussed before, women do absolutely nothing for me now. Not even Amber.
This has been documented as well by all other previous posters. Ashlyn and Liz started being with men eventually, and as far as I know they're still into guys. Todd spent an entire year having sex with a man as his wife. So while the inn doesn't trigger a corresponding mental change, it does trigger a physical attraction that matches the body's previous owner. Once the previous posters got over their qualms about having sex, they had no problem doing it. My theory is that Dee had sex with Amber on her first night in town, thus breaking down any mental barriers pretty quickly. It might have clouded her thinking, causing her to look at all women that way, hence going after Heather.
Although to be honest I have no idea whether or not Dee was lying about her previous life. I havent seen a photo or anything, never bothered to check up on that.
That same poster also had the best idea of them all, which is to try and sabotage Dee and Heathers relationship, causing her to have no motivation to stay in my body and to give it back. If any of you out there have ideas on how to accomplish this, they would be greatly appreciated.
Anyway, since my last post I've had a lot of time to think about my options for the future. I finally wrapped my head around it all today, seeing as I was alone and the city was mostly quiet for Easter. But since Hindus don't celebrate Easter, it was just a Sunday for the Patel family.
As I said before, im going to have to go back to the Inn. But since there's a chain of 3 people or so on each side of me looking to get back into their bodies by staying in the same room as me (Priya included) that means Im probably gonna have to go in and fill in the gap. Which more than likely means that come July i'll turn into Deb. Which I don't plan on as a long term solution but its the only body available as of now. Maybe ill find someone who WANTS to be her and get a new life that way, but as of right now im not looking forward to it.
-Greg (still and always on the inside.
Thursday, April 01, 2010
Greg/Priya: Dumped
So, I'm blogging because this is the only place someone in my position can vent their feelings that I know of. I don't know how many of our readers actually believe us, or if they actually CAN believe us thanks to the curse, but between them and the other contributors, it sure helps to have someone who listens
Ive been crying for the last two hours, because today has easily been the worst day of my life, which is saying something considering Ive had a day where i changed into another person.
Amber called me today crying. I was at work so i didn't hear her bawling until i checked my voice-mail at lunch. I called her back and she was still upset and when I asked what was wrong she choked out "Greg...Dumped..me.."
Clearly this concerned me in a way that goes beyond "best-friend-shoulder-to-cry-on". So i left work, didn't even think about it. I hadn't taken a sick day all year and it's kindergarten so its not like you need to find a well qualified sub for half a day.
Amber was at her place since they had the fight late last night and she was too upset to go into work. Dee was not in the apartment, so I'm assuming she went to work.
After a big hug and a 2 minute sob, I finally asked her what happened
"Well, I told you about how Greg's been distant for awhile now, and you said it was probably just wedding jitters, and I believed that and he did go out of his way to show me he loved me on Valentine's Day, but after that he just became distant again. The last night..."
She trailed off as she cried at the memory of what happened. I hugged her and when she calmed down she continued
"Last night he came to me and told me he didn't love me and that he had been cheating on me for the last 6 months with his secretary, Heather"
My jaw dropped and I was both shocked and mad. I couldn't say anything. Amber saw the look on my face and continued
"He said that hes fallen in love with her and that he was gonna move in with her and that hes sorry but he just couldn't lie to me anymore"
After that we both broke down crying. After all it was my relationship too, and I was so mad at Dee for doing this to Amber just so she could sleep with my secretary. I comforted and consoled Amber for a few hours until I told her there was something I needed to do and I would be back later.
It was around 4:30 so Dee would still be at work. When I got to the hotel lobby, Heather was at the front desk. She didnt recognize me and said in a very cheerful manner "How may I help you?"
"Yes, may I please speak with your manager?" I said rather curtly. Which in retrospect was kinda mean. Yeah, shes the other woman, but I always liked Heather, shes a nice gal, but kinda quiet. I always sensed she had a crush on me but she was way to mousy to ever make a move and she knew I was engaged.
She turned toward my office which is in a room next to the desk and said "Hun, there's someone here to see you" in a saccharin voice that made my stomach turn. When my old body emerged from the office and saw me he looked only a little bit surprised. "Oh, its you." Dee said flatly "Come on in the back" Heather watched idly curious as I followed him into the office and shut the door.
"I had a feeling Id here from you soon" she said
"What the HELL is going on?" I demanded
She looked me in the eye and in a very calm voice said "I'm sorry you had to find out this way, but things just kinda happened between me and Heather. There was chemistry from Day 1. We have a lot in common and around October we started seeing each other in secret. Amber does nothing for me emotionally or mentally, we just don't click. Having to spend 24 hours a day pretending to love someone like that is just miserable. Heather was the complete opposite and she made me love coming to work and over time ive grown to love her"
I wanted to strangle her. "Well you realize the mess this makes for me? How am I supposed to fix things when I get my body back?"
She looked at the ground
"You don't think..." I started coldly.
"I spent the last 21 years of my life in a marriage that was loveless for the last 15. He and I weren't right for each other and I wasted the better part of my life with him. Now it seems that fate has shown me a new person that is worth it, and given me an opportunity to be with her. I cant just walk away from that..."
"ITS NOT YOURS TO WALK AWAY FROM!" I shouted, not caring if Heather heard or not.
She shushed me "Listen, I'm sorry to have to do this to you, but did you ever think that this is fate trying to tell you something? Like maybe you and Amber don't really belong together?"
I lunged at her. I wanted to choke her right then and there. Sadly she now had about 70lbs on me and held me at bay easily.
"Im gonna need you to calm down or I'm gonna call security" she said firmly "No i suggest you go home and figure out your life and don't come back here again or Ill call the cops"
At that moment, everything went numb. She had all the power. All the leverage. I think this must be what Jake and Art felt like when they first heard that they're lives had been stolen. When I read their stories my reaction was "wow, that sucks for them" and now its just a million times worse. Short of kidnapping Dee and strapping her to a bed in Maine, all my family, friends, and life are gonna be gone.
I left the hotel in silence. I sat on the train on the way home, just staring blankly ahead. A million thoughts going through my head but none really taking hold enough to affect me. It was just a profound sadness.
I couldn't go back to Amber so I went back to my apartment instead. I sent her a text saying I'm sorry and id be over later to help talk to her. Fortunately, her mom had also been keeping her company so she wasn't alone.
It was 6 o'clock when i just collapsed on the couch and started bawling. All the emotions that I felt at first just washed over me. I thought about all my memories with Amber. The day we met. Our first date. The first time we had sex. The day I proposed. Now, those are just memories. Ive been downgraded from love of her life to best friend. Forced to see her every day and be reminded of how horrible things turned out.
I was crying when I started writing this, but now, an hour later, im just sniffling. I guess it does help to write your feelings down, and while im still miserable I can at least function clearly. Able to think. Able to cope with the fact that Im gonna have to live the rest of my life as Priya.
Although the kidnapping idea has its merits....
-Priya
Ive been crying for the last two hours, because today has easily been the worst day of my life, which is saying something considering Ive had a day where i changed into another person.
Amber called me today crying. I was at work so i didn't hear her bawling until i checked my voice-mail at lunch. I called her back and she was still upset and when I asked what was wrong she choked out "Greg...Dumped..me.."
Clearly this concerned me in a way that goes beyond "best-friend-shoulder-to-cry-on". So i left work, didn't even think about it. I hadn't taken a sick day all year and it's kindergarten so its not like you need to find a well qualified sub for half a day.
Amber was at her place since they had the fight late last night and she was too upset to go into work. Dee was not in the apartment, so I'm assuming she went to work.
After a big hug and a 2 minute sob, I finally asked her what happened
"Well, I told you about how Greg's been distant for awhile now, and you said it was probably just wedding jitters, and I believed that and he did go out of his way to show me he loved me on Valentine's Day, but after that he just became distant again. The last night..."
She trailed off as she cried at the memory of what happened. I hugged her and when she calmed down she continued
"Last night he came to me and told me he didn't love me and that he had been cheating on me for the last 6 months with his secretary, Heather"
My jaw dropped and I was both shocked and mad. I couldn't say anything. Amber saw the look on my face and continued
"He said that hes fallen in love with her and that he was gonna move in with her and that hes sorry but he just couldn't lie to me anymore"
After that we both broke down crying. After all it was my relationship too, and I was so mad at Dee for doing this to Amber just so she could sleep with my secretary. I comforted and consoled Amber for a few hours until I told her there was something I needed to do and I would be back later.
It was around 4:30 so Dee would still be at work. When I got to the hotel lobby, Heather was at the front desk. She didnt recognize me and said in a very cheerful manner "How may I help you?"
"Yes, may I please speak with your manager?" I said rather curtly. Which in retrospect was kinda mean. Yeah, shes the other woman, but I always liked Heather, shes a nice gal, but kinda quiet. I always sensed she had a crush on me but she was way to mousy to ever make a move and she knew I was engaged.
She turned toward my office which is in a room next to the desk and said "Hun, there's someone here to see you" in a saccharin voice that made my stomach turn. When my old body emerged from the office and saw me he looked only a little bit surprised. "Oh, its you." Dee said flatly "Come on in the back" Heather watched idly curious as I followed him into the office and shut the door.
"I had a feeling Id here from you soon" she said
"What the HELL is going on?" I demanded
She looked me in the eye and in a very calm voice said "I'm sorry you had to find out this way, but things just kinda happened between me and Heather. There was chemistry from Day 1. We have a lot in common and around October we started seeing each other in secret. Amber does nothing for me emotionally or mentally, we just don't click. Having to spend 24 hours a day pretending to love someone like that is just miserable. Heather was the complete opposite and she made me love coming to work and over time ive grown to love her"
I wanted to strangle her. "Well you realize the mess this makes for me? How am I supposed to fix things when I get my body back?"
She looked at the ground
"You don't think..." I started coldly.
"I spent the last 21 years of my life in a marriage that was loveless for the last 15. He and I weren't right for each other and I wasted the better part of my life with him. Now it seems that fate has shown me a new person that is worth it, and given me an opportunity to be with her. I cant just walk away from that..."
"ITS NOT YOURS TO WALK AWAY FROM!" I shouted, not caring if Heather heard or not.
She shushed me "Listen, I'm sorry to have to do this to you, but did you ever think that this is fate trying to tell you something? Like maybe you and Amber don't really belong together?"
I lunged at her. I wanted to choke her right then and there. Sadly she now had about 70lbs on me and held me at bay easily.
"Im gonna need you to calm down or I'm gonna call security" she said firmly "No i suggest you go home and figure out your life and don't come back here again or Ill call the cops"
At that moment, everything went numb. She had all the power. All the leverage. I think this must be what Jake and Art felt like when they first heard that they're lives had been stolen. When I read their stories my reaction was "wow, that sucks for them" and now its just a million times worse. Short of kidnapping Dee and strapping her to a bed in Maine, all my family, friends, and life are gonna be gone.
I left the hotel in silence. I sat on the train on the way home, just staring blankly ahead. A million thoughts going through my head but none really taking hold enough to affect me. It was just a profound sadness.
I couldn't go back to Amber so I went back to my apartment instead. I sent her a text saying I'm sorry and id be over later to help talk to her. Fortunately, her mom had also been keeping her company so she wasn't alone.
It was 6 o'clock when i just collapsed on the couch and started bawling. All the emotions that I felt at first just washed over me. I thought about all my memories with Amber. The day we met. Our first date. The first time we had sex. The day I proposed. Now, those are just memories. Ive been downgraded from love of her life to best friend. Forced to see her every day and be reminded of how horrible things turned out.
I was crying when I started writing this, but now, an hour later, im just sniffling. I guess it does help to write your feelings down, and while im still miserable I can at least function clearly. Able to think. Able to cope with the fact that Im gonna have to live the rest of my life as Priya.
Although the kidnapping idea has its merits....
-Priya
Wednesday, March 31, 2010
Alia/Rob: Movie night
Cathy was really into the idea of dragging me out to see the movie with her friends. She was talking about it all week.
I don't know what to make of the situation. If I were a guy, I would think she's into me. Hell, if I were a girl being described the situation I would think she's into the guy. But I've been up front with her about the fact that I am not looking for a relationship of any kind. Still she persists. I've been friends with guys before, but never did such a thorough job of confusing them about what I wanted (I think.)
The sad thing is, I really do like her as a person. I never hear anything about Cliff's interactions with males, aside from her occasional peeks into the men in Raine's, Sarah's, and that other chick's life. I don't know how she's coping with the estrangement of her gender, but I'm feeling really odd about it.
I can say I'm looking forward all I want, and how I know that in a few months, if all goes as planned, I will be myself again. But in the present, part of me just wants to take care of this situation one way or the other.
Unfortunately, that is not what happened. Inaction reigned once again in the life of Alia Frye/Roberto Garcia. Probably for the best, since my last two big dramatic actions have netted me a lot of ill feelings and a male body.
So what did happen? Exactly what you might've expected. I went with Cathy to the movies. We met her four girlfriends, one of whom had a boyfriend. The other guy and I bookended the ladies, with Cathy to my right. They spent the entire film being being alternately appalled and amused by what they saw on the screen - what such a large group of women were doing at such an obvious guy film I had no idea. There were parts they did seem to like, and parts that simply made them groan. The girl with the boyfriend spent the whole night asking him for updates on the plot, and Cathy and I fell into a bit of a running commentary of our own that probably did not amuse those around us.
For my part, the film got more than a few laughs out of me. My mother would be embarrassed, I used to be such a dainty girl, shy about everything. The opening dog-rear joke madem e roll my eyes but subsequent humour related to bodily functions made me laugh more and more as the film went on. Maybe it's the male body, maybe it's just me. I never hated these movies but I definitely don't remember laughing at them like that before.
We all went out for coffee afterward at a ridiculously pretentious pseudo-Starbucks wannabe place. In theory I was getting to know the girls better but I found them too similar to a lot of the gabby shallow types I knew in University, the ones I secretly envied at one point. The boyfriend for his part looked at me with a look of understanding "Yeah dude, I get it," except no, dude, you don't.
I asked Cathy afterward what was up with the film choice, and they explained it was their theory that watching guy flicks made them understand men more. "I know you probably think we all have you figured out, and for the most part we do, but that doesn't mean we don't want to know more."
I laughed, "Trust me, Cathy, I'm a lot more complicated than I let on."
"Oh, is that so?"
And for a second there, it looked like she was going to go in for the kiss, or she was expecting me to do so, but instead of anything, we both stood still - until she poked me in the abs playfully and walked off into the night.
What do you do with a woman like that? Who plays with you one night, then comes back on Monday and talks about this booty call she made. I mean, I've had many conversations with my girlfriends about random dudes, but rarely for the benefit of guys like the one I currently am. She comes up to me Monday at work and says to me "Hey, you wanna know something? After we hung out on Friday night, I called this guy I know. He was busy, so we met up the next night, and..." well there you go.
Why did I need to hear this, I ask. She shrugs and says she just thought I might be able to use it. She looks down at my belt - except not at my belt - and says "don't think I don't notice."
Goddamn this little thing. We disagree about so much.
-Alia
I don't know what to make of the situation. If I were a guy, I would think she's into me. Hell, if I were a girl being described the situation I would think she's into the guy. But I've been up front with her about the fact that I am not looking for a relationship of any kind. Still she persists. I've been friends with guys before, but never did such a thorough job of confusing them about what I wanted (I think.)
The sad thing is, I really do like her as a person. I never hear anything about Cliff's interactions with males, aside from her occasional peeks into the men in Raine's, Sarah's, and that other chick's life. I don't know how she's coping with the estrangement of her gender, but I'm feeling really odd about it.
I can say I'm looking forward all I want, and how I know that in a few months, if all goes as planned, I will be myself again. But in the present, part of me just wants to take care of this situation one way or the other.
Unfortunately, that is not what happened. Inaction reigned once again in the life of Alia Frye/Roberto Garcia. Probably for the best, since my last two big dramatic actions have netted me a lot of ill feelings and a male body.
So what did happen? Exactly what you might've expected. I went with Cathy to the movies. We met her four girlfriends, one of whom had a boyfriend. The other guy and I bookended the ladies, with Cathy to my right. They spent the entire film being being alternately appalled and amused by what they saw on the screen - what such a large group of women were doing at such an obvious guy film I had no idea. There were parts they did seem to like, and parts that simply made them groan. The girl with the boyfriend spent the whole night asking him for updates on the plot, and Cathy and I fell into a bit of a running commentary of our own that probably did not amuse those around us.
For my part, the film got more than a few laughs out of me. My mother would be embarrassed, I used to be such a dainty girl, shy about everything. The opening dog-rear joke madem e roll my eyes but subsequent humour related to bodily functions made me laugh more and more as the film went on. Maybe it's the male body, maybe it's just me. I never hated these movies but I definitely don't remember laughing at them like that before.
We all went out for coffee afterward at a ridiculously pretentious pseudo-Starbucks wannabe place. In theory I was getting to know the girls better but I found them too similar to a lot of the gabby shallow types I knew in University, the ones I secretly envied at one point. The boyfriend for his part looked at me with a look of understanding "Yeah dude, I get it," except no, dude, you don't.
I asked Cathy afterward what was up with the film choice, and they explained it was their theory that watching guy flicks made them understand men more. "I know you probably think we all have you figured out, and for the most part we do, but that doesn't mean we don't want to know more."
I laughed, "Trust me, Cathy, I'm a lot more complicated than I let on."
"Oh, is that so?"
And for a second there, it looked like she was going to go in for the kiss, or she was expecting me to do so, but instead of anything, we both stood still - until she poked me in the abs playfully and walked off into the night.
What do you do with a woman like that? Who plays with you one night, then comes back on Monday and talks about this booty call she made. I mean, I've had many conversations with my girlfriends about random dudes, but rarely for the benefit of guys like the one I currently am. She comes up to me Monday at work and says to me "Hey, you wanna know something? After we hung out on Friday night, I called this guy I know. He was busy, so we met up the next night, and..." well there you go.
Why did I need to hear this, I ask. She shrugs and says she just thought I might be able to use it. She looks down at my belt - except not at my belt - and says "don't think I don't notice."
Goddamn this little thing. We disagree about so much.
-Alia
Tuesday, March 16, 2010
Cliff/Tori: Behind closed doors
Most days, I think to myself, "I should post on the blog more" but I can never think of what to write down.
I mean, it used to be so strange to be here. I had all these little experiences about being a woman and about living with Tori's family and I'd save them up, and the ones I didn't write about it was because they were either too personal or they were too boring. About the tenth post I drafted up about how uncomfortable I was sleeping (because it hadn't occurred to me that I shouldn't sleep on my breasts) I began to feel self-conscious about repetition. So if you feel like you're missing any of the story, maybe you are, but I think I'm saying everything that's vital.
I mean, what is my life right now? You can figure it out. I'm still a guy in a girl's body, except that has become so much less shocking over the last 6 or 7 months. I still have my problems, still get taken off-guard sometimes by my hormones depending on the time of month, but it's mainly gotten fairly routine. Sometimes my friends... Tori's friends, but I call them my friends because they are my friends... think I'm lame for not going out with them, but this last month has really given me cause to rein in the social tendencies. I do go out from time to time, I go shopping, I go to bars, but I'm not having any shocking adventures. I almost wish I was, just to talk about it.
But I'm still sane, I'm still me. I've survived this long. In four months time, I will be in Maine, waiting to get my body back.
It feels like so long, but it's so close I can feel it, and that excites me more than anything else.
But there's a bittersweet part to it. I feel really welcome in this family. It's strange: I got the sense from Tori's journals that her family was often talking down to her or or generally negative, but... well, they've been super nice to me. I hate the idea that they like me as Tori better than her, but it shows that if she'd meet them halfway, they'd really appreciate it. For a few months I felt, and acted, like a guest, but they welcomed me in and I really do feel like they're my family.
I considered going up to Buffalo for my (real) birthday, but it coincides with the Easter weekend, and Tori's brother has threatened to disown me if I miss the Eastern gathering at the Pearce house, and since I think he's such a nice guy I've agreed. Plus, being out of my body for so long, it would be weird to go back early, again, as Tori.
Part of me suspects an ulterior motive for Willie even asking me to come up then. We've hardly spoken since we made arrangements for the Inn, partially a conscious decision on my part due to the effect he had on me the last time I was there, which led to me having a long, still-unresolved identity crisis thing. I almost wish he and I had gone all the way, because then I would know something. At best, I've got whatever gets me going when I play with myself. It's not guys, and it's not girls, it's just myself. The only thing that really turns me on is the idea of being alone with myself. But then thoughts of my own male face looking down at me, smiling, taking me by the hand... I can't deny I get a bit of a shiver when I think back on it, and I still have no idea what that means.
I'm worried, in short, that Willie would want to take advantage of that, and though I think he's a very nice person, I'm taking Alia's advice not to complicate things. Not now.
Like I said, I've gotten so attached to Tori's family that I feel like they deserve my presence if they want it. That goes for her parents, and even Mae. Oh, man, Mae, I feel so bad for her. Tori is still not a big fan of hers, even though she's been a very good sister to me. I feel like we've sort of matured together, and it will be a shame to let go of that. But that's the future. Let me tell you about the present.
I came home the other night from work and went up the stairs, to just kick back in my room for a while, when I came across Mae crouched down next to "mom & dad's" room. I asked "What's going on?" and with a weird, serious look on her face, she mouths the words "Mom and dad are fighting."
I feel my stomach sink. Mr. and Mrs. Pearce have been like my own parents, and they seem to be very close. I always see them joking around,quite lovey-dovey, they have a weekly date night. I haven't seen them fight at all since I got here. So, feeling some concern, I crouched down and put my ear to the door.
I listened for some yelling or some arguing, or something, but all I could hear were muffled sounds of... I wasn't entirely sure. And then it dawned on me. And Mae, seeing the look of my face, got a grin on her face three miles wide. Mom and dad weren't fighting, they were fucking! The increasingly-loud female moans inside confirmed this.
Embarrassed, I rushed off to my room. Mae gave chase, following me to my room and shutting the door behind her, laughing her ass off as soon as it was shut. for my part, I could hardly breathe I was laughing so hard. I don't know why it was funny, it just was.
"Your face!" she wheezed, "Your fucking face was so--!"
"That was not cool! Why were you listening to that?"
She explained, since her room shares a wall with theirs, she hears them anytime they do it, and she felt like I deserved the privilege as well. My face was red with shock and embarrassment. I buried my face in my pillow. Mae joined me on the bed, lying widthwise, we just sat there trying to get over it until she observed, "Jeez, Vic, what's up with your room?" (I should point out that although all Tori's friends call her Tori, her family switches between Tori and Vic/Vicki/Victoria. Mae uses Vic most often, because I think Tori has said she doesn't like it.)
I don't have many visitors. At present time, my room is a schizophrenic cross between a girl who has just moved in (boxes everywhere) and a girl who can't clean up after herself (clothes everywhere.) "I'm just... busy, I guess. It doesn't bother me."
"Jeez, no wonder you're not getting any action. Guys can't get hard for a slob like you."
"Hey," I pointed out, "When a guy gets a shot at someone like this," I gestured at my body, "the last thing he's looking at are the bras on the floor." The observation felt a little sleazy as I said it, but I have to admit it's true.
She snorted, somewhat-lovingly, "You're so full of yourself, Tori. I used to hate that about you. You're still pretty hard to live with sometimes. I mean, shit, you know what I mean? I love you and everything, but sometimes you walk around like you haven't got a clue what's going on around here."
"It's been a confusing year for me," I say, trying to reach some semblance of honesty.
"I can be a bitch sometimes, I know," she admitted. Then she looked at me, expecting em to admit the same.
"I do my best, Mae." I got a little tripped up, "You're my little sister. It hasn't always been easy, but... you know? We get along now, right?"
"Yeah," she smiled. Then she spotted a top on the floor. "Is that mine?"
"Huh? Oh, no, that's mine." It was just a plaid top I picked up back in October when I was staying with Tori and Rob in Louisville.
"Oh yeah, I forgot you dress like that sometimes..." it was definitely more "her" style, but I don't really conform to any particular style. Some days I indulge in Tori's frilly clothes, some days I like the basic workshirt-looking ones. That's the amazing thing about women's clothes. She unbunched it, "You mind if I...?"
"Sure, go ahead," I shrugged.
Then, sitting right there, she took her top off, and I should note she was not wearing a bra. I mean, it's not like she flashed me - she did twist her body away modestly, but I did see everything.
It was weird how comfortable she was doing that. I watched her button up the shirt.
Mae is a bit smaller than me, has rounder hips and about the same size of a chest. There would be a stronger family resemblance if we had the same hairstyle, but I have kept Tori's long hair because I'm not interested in making that kind of change. Also she sometimes wears reading glasses, plastic-framed emo-type glasses.
She smoothed out the chest. Only the middle buttons were done up. She cupped the underside of her breasts, I guess to simulate a bra. I watched this, expecting to be caught leering.
I want to clarify... I'm not lusting after her or anything. She's young, and she's my sister. But after all these months I'm still curious about how women feel about their bodies, and Mae caught me off guard with her comfort. Maybe it's a sisterly thing, maybe it's particular to her.
She did catch the look on my face eventually, and asked what was up with it. I said, "How would you feel if I took off my top right now?"
She shrugged, "Well, I wouldn't stare. I'd probably be a little jealous. I don't know. Wouldn't weird me out. You're the one who goes skinny dipping with those friends of yours, hot tubbing and shit. Is it weird 'cause I'm your sister?"
"A little bit."
Irritated, she unbuttoned the top again, letting her breasts hang. I tried not to stare. She looked me in the eye, I was very confused. She began to laugh, "Oh my God, you are totally freaked out right now!" she looked down at herself then back at me. "Shit, Tori, they're just breasts!"
"Yeah, but--" I stammered, "They're your breasts!"
Still laughing, she slipped the top back on, but instead of buttoning it, clutched the two sides with her hand and lay back on the bed. "You're so weird."
Then after a silence, she sighed, "I think me and Ed are gonna end soon."
"Oh yeah?"
"It was probably a mistake to have sex with him. We were going so well before that, and then we did it... I mean, I like sex, a lot more than I thought I would, but Ed won't stop asking about it. It's so annoying. He didn't used to be this way."
"Boys," I sighed, lying back, "I wish I could tell you it gets easier, but it's just..." I stopped. I really had no clue what to say. Somewhere inside of me is a boy who is still glad he can see a pair of tits whenever he wants, feel a pussy, even if they're his. I shouldn't put myself down. I corrected myself, "Even if they really are all like that, the good ones can hide it."
She sat up and said, "Mom and dad are probably done now, I'm gonna go back to my room."
She walked off in my shirt. "Don't be a stranger..." I called out. Not looking back, she gave me a thumbs up.
I mean, it used to be so strange to be here. I had all these little experiences about being a woman and about living with Tori's family and I'd save them up, and the ones I didn't write about it was because they were either too personal or they were too boring. About the tenth post I drafted up about how uncomfortable I was sleeping (because it hadn't occurred to me that I shouldn't sleep on my breasts) I began to feel self-conscious about repetition. So if you feel like you're missing any of the story, maybe you are, but I think I'm saying everything that's vital.
I mean, what is my life right now? You can figure it out. I'm still a guy in a girl's body, except that has become so much less shocking over the last 6 or 7 months. I still have my problems, still get taken off-guard sometimes by my hormones depending on the time of month, but it's mainly gotten fairly routine. Sometimes my friends... Tori's friends, but I call them my friends because they are my friends... think I'm lame for not going out with them, but this last month has really given me cause to rein in the social tendencies. I do go out from time to time, I go shopping, I go to bars, but I'm not having any shocking adventures. I almost wish I was, just to talk about it.
But I'm still sane, I'm still me. I've survived this long. In four months time, I will be in Maine, waiting to get my body back.
It feels like so long, but it's so close I can feel it, and that excites me more than anything else.
But there's a bittersweet part to it. I feel really welcome in this family. It's strange: I got the sense from Tori's journals that her family was often talking down to her or or generally negative, but... well, they've been super nice to me. I hate the idea that they like me as Tori better than her, but it shows that if she'd meet them halfway, they'd really appreciate it. For a few months I felt, and acted, like a guest, but they welcomed me in and I really do feel like they're my family.
I considered going up to Buffalo for my (real) birthday, but it coincides with the Easter weekend, and Tori's brother has threatened to disown me if I miss the Eastern gathering at the Pearce house, and since I think he's such a nice guy I've agreed. Plus, being out of my body for so long, it would be weird to go back early, again, as Tori.
Part of me suspects an ulterior motive for Willie even asking me to come up then. We've hardly spoken since we made arrangements for the Inn, partially a conscious decision on my part due to the effect he had on me the last time I was there, which led to me having a long, still-unresolved identity crisis thing. I almost wish he and I had gone all the way, because then I would know something. At best, I've got whatever gets me going when I play with myself. It's not guys, and it's not girls, it's just myself. The only thing that really turns me on is the idea of being alone with myself. But then thoughts of my own male face looking down at me, smiling, taking me by the hand... I can't deny I get a bit of a shiver when I think back on it, and I still have no idea what that means.
I'm worried, in short, that Willie would want to take advantage of that, and though I think he's a very nice person, I'm taking Alia's advice not to complicate things. Not now.
Like I said, I've gotten so attached to Tori's family that I feel like they deserve my presence if they want it. That goes for her parents, and even Mae. Oh, man, Mae, I feel so bad for her. Tori is still not a big fan of hers, even though she's been a very good sister to me. I feel like we've sort of matured together, and it will be a shame to let go of that. But that's the future. Let me tell you about the present.
I came home the other night from work and went up the stairs, to just kick back in my room for a while, when I came across Mae crouched down next to "mom & dad's" room. I asked "What's going on?" and with a weird, serious look on her face, she mouths the words "Mom and dad are fighting."
I feel my stomach sink. Mr. and Mrs. Pearce have been like my own parents, and they seem to be very close. I always see them joking around,quite lovey-dovey, they have a weekly date night. I haven't seen them fight at all since I got here. So, feeling some concern, I crouched down and put my ear to the door.
I listened for some yelling or some arguing, or something, but all I could hear were muffled sounds of... I wasn't entirely sure. And then it dawned on me. And Mae, seeing the look of my face, got a grin on her face three miles wide. Mom and dad weren't fighting, they were fucking! The increasingly-loud female moans inside confirmed this.
Embarrassed, I rushed off to my room. Mae gave chase, following me to my room and shutting the door behind her, laughing her ass off as soon as it was shut. for my part, I could hardly breathe I was laughing so hard. I don't know why it was funny, it just was.
"Your face!" she wheezed, "Your fucking face was so--!"
"That was not cool! Why were you listening to that?"
She explained, since her room shares a wall with theirs, she hears them anytime they do it, and she felt like I deserved the privilege as well. My face was red with shock and embarrassment. I buried my face in my pillow. Mae joined me on the bed, lying widthwise, we just sat there trying to get over it until she observed, "Jeez, Vic, what's up with your room?" (I should point out that although all Tori's friends call her Tori, her family switches between Tori and Vic/Vicki/Victoria. Mae uses Vic most often, because I think Tori has said she doesn't like it.)
I don't have many visitors. At present time, my room is a schizophrenic cross between a girl who has just moved in (boxes everywhere) and a girl who can't clean up after herself (clothes everywhere.) "I'm just... busy, I guess. It doesn't bother me."
"Jeez, no wonder you're not getting any action. Guys can't get hard for a slob like you."
"Hey," I pointed out, "When a guy gets a shot at someone like this," I gestured at my body, "the last thing he's looking at are the bras on the floor." The observation felt a little sleazy as I said it, but I have to admit it's true.
She snorted, somewhat-lovingly, "You're so full of yourself, Tori. I used to hate that about you. You're still pretty hard to live with sometimes. I mean, shit, you know what I mean? I love you and everything, but sometimes you walk around like you haven't got a clue what's going on around here."
"It's been a confusing year for me," I say, trying to reach some semblance of honesty.
"I can be a bitch sometimes, I know," she admitted. Then she looked at me, expecting em to admit the same.
"I do my best, Mae." I got a little tripped up, "You're my little sister. It hasn't always been easy, but... you know? We get along now, right?"
"Yeah," she smiled. Then she spotted a top on the floor. "Is that mine?"
"Huh? Oh, no, that's mine." It was just a plaid top I picked up back in October when I was staying with Tori and Rob in Louisville.
"Oh yeah, I forgot you dress like that sometimes..." it was definitely more "her" style, but I don't really conform to any particular style. Some days I indulge in Tori's frilly clothes, some days I like the basic workshirt-looking ones. That's the amazing thing about women's clothes. She unbunched it, "You mind if I...?"
"Sure, go ahead," I shrugged.
Then, sitting right there, she took her top off, and I should note she was not wearing a bra. I mean, it's not like she flashed me - she did twist her body away modestly, but I did see everything.
It was weird how comfortable she was doing that. I watched her button up the shirt.
Mae is a bit smaller than me, has rounder hips and about the same size of a chest. There would be a stronger family resemblance if we had the same hairstyle, but I have kept Tori's long hair because I'm not interested in making that kind of change. Also she sometimes wears reading glasses, plastic-framed emo-type glasses.
She smoothed out the chest. Only the middle buttons were done up. She cupped the underside of her breasts, I guess to simulate a bra. I watched this, expecting to be caught leering.
I want to clarify... I'm not lusting after her or anything. She's young, and she's my sister. But after all these months I'm still curious about how women feel about their bodies, and Mae caught me off guard with her comfort. Maybe it's a sisterly thing, maybe it's particular to her.
She did catch the look on my face eventually, and asked what was up with it. I said, "How would you feel if I took off my top right now?"
She shrugged, "Well, I wouldn't stare. I'd probably be a little jealous. I don't know. Wouldn't weird me out. You're the one who goes skinny dipping with those friends of yours, hot tubbing and shit. Is it weird 'cause I'm your sister?"
"A little bit."
Irritated, she unbuttoned the top again, letting her breasts hang. I tried not to stare. She looked me in the eye, I was very confused. She began to laugh, "Oh my God, you are totally freaked out right now!" she looked down at herself then back at me. "Shit, Tori, they're just breasts!"
"Yeah, but--" I stammered, "They're your breasts!"
Still laughing, she slipped the top back on, but instead of buttoning it, clutched the two sides with her hand and lay back on the bed. "You're so weird."
Then after a silence, she sighed, "I think me and Ed are gonna end soon."
"Oh yeah?"
"It was probably a mistake to have sex with him. We were going so well before that, and then we did it... I mean, I like sex, a lot more than I thought I would, but Ed won't stop asking about it. It's so annoying. He didn't used to be this way."
"Boys," I sighed, lying back, "I wish I could tell you it gets easier, but it's just..." I stopped. I really had no clue what to say. Somewhere inside of me is a boy who is still glad he can see a pair of tits whenever he wants, feel a pussy, even if they're his. I shouldn't put myself down. I corrected myself, "Even if they really are all like that, the good ones can hide it."
She sat up and said, "Mom and dad are probably done now, I'm gonna go back to my room."
She walked off in my shirt. "Don't be a stranger..." I called out. Not looking back, she gave me a thumbs up.
Monday, March 15, 2010
Alia/Rob: Middle ground
My life - and by that I mean Rob's life as led by me - is exhausting.
I'll be the first to admit that I don't have much of a life outside of the job. Cathy was on my case about this as we supervised the cafeteria today. I keep telling her we're not kids, and that by the time I get home from my after-school commitments, I'm usually too tired to do anything.
I make fun of her for nagging me and ask, "What are you, my wife?" unconsciously forgetting the implications of that statement.
She replies, "Ouch," then pauses a moment to let the meaning settle. Awkward. Then she continues, "No, I'm your friend. I want you to get out there and meet people, have fun while there's time. Don't get old too soon." Too late, I think, but anyway. "Do you do anything but work, watch TV and sleep?"
"Sure," I say, trying to defend myself, wanting to seem like it was true. "I go to movies, I... grocery shop... laundromat."
She laughs, "Errands don't count, buddy! You told me you were busy on Valentine's day. Don't tell me you were folding shirts."
"No, that was a real... well, it was platonic." I had a note of shame in my voice, not because I wish it weren't, but because it's irritating that Cathy is so right and yet so wrong.
"Look," she says, "Once a month, some friends and I go out to see a movie. Usually something we can laugh at. Next week, we're gonna go see that Hot Tub Time Travel movie."
"Hot Tub Time Machine," I correct her.
"You should come along, okay?"
I roll my eyes. "What kind of friends? Women?"
"Mostly, but it's a mix. one of my girlfriends usually brings her boyfriend, too, even though we can't really stand him. Otherwise I think you'd like them."
"What do you mean I'd like them? Is this a fix-up or something?" I start to get really defensive for no good reason.
"What? No!" she says in a way that means kinda, adding "Look, I'm not gonna lie. I do think it would be cool if you ended up liking one of my friends, but that isn't what this is about. I just want to hang out with you in a non-school setting for once, let you loosen up."
I give her the benefit of the doubt. Listen, I think Cathy's a really cool woman. She reminds me of myself. Smart, with a bit of a playful streak, but less vulnerable. My problem is that once I started dating Todd, I became sort of a "guys' girl," because I realized I hadn't enjoyed the company of women that much in my teen life. Now that I'm a guy, it's sort of coming back estranged (this is my vague recollection of Freud) and I like it. So I do want to hang out with her, but I don't want to lead her, or any of her friends, on.
So I agree to it. I've kind of followed the opposite path from Cliff... she got really social pretty quickly and regretted it, and I've been anti-social this whole time and regret it. We both need to find middle ground.
-Alia
I'll be the first to admit that I don't have much of a life outside of the job. Cathy was on my case about this as we supervised the cafeteria today. I keep telling her we're not kids, and that by the time I get home from my after-school commitments, I'm usually too tired to do anything.
I make fun of her for nagging me and ask, "What are you, my wife?" unconsciously forgetting the implications of that statement.
She replies, "Ouch," then pauses a moment to let the meaning settle. Awkward. Then she continues, "No, I'm your friend. I want you to get out there and meet people, have fun while there's time. Don't get old too soon." Too late, I think, but anyway. "Do you do anything but work, watch TV and sleep?"
"Sure," I say, trying to defend myself, wanting to seem like it was true. "I go to movies, I... grocery shop... laundromat."
She laughs, "Errands don't count, buddy! You told me you were busy on Valentine's day. Don't tell me you were folding shirts."
"No, that was a real... well, it was platonic." I had a note of shame in my voice, not because I wish it weren't, but because it's irritating that Cathy is so right and yet so wrong.
"Look," she says, "Once a month, some friends and I go out to see a movie. Usually something we can laugh at. Next week, we're gonna go see that Hot Tub Time Travel movie."
"Hot Tub Time Machine," I correct her.
"You should come along, okay?"
I roll my eyes. "What kind of friends? Women?"
"Mostly, but it's a mix. one of my girlfriends usually brings her boyfriend, too, even though we can't really stand him. Otherwise I think you'd like them."
"What do you mean I'd like them? Is this a fix-up or something?" I start to get really defensive for no good reason.
"What? No!" she says in a way that means kinda, adding "Look, I'm not gonna lie. I do think it would be cool if you ended up liking one of my friends, but that isn't what this is about. I just want to hang out with you in a non-school setting for once, let you loosen up."
I give her the benefit of the doubt. Listen, I think Cathy's a really cool woman. She reminds me of myself. Smart, with a bit of a playful streak, but less vulnerable. My problem is that once I started dating Todd, I became sort of a "guys' girl," because I realized I hadn't enjoyed the company of women that much in my teen life. Now that I'm a guy, it's sort of coming back estranged (this is my vague recollection of Freud) and I like it. So I do want to hang out with her, but I don't want to lead her, or any of her friends, on.
So I agree to it. I've kind of followed the opposite path from Cliff... she got really social pretty quickly and regretted it, and I've been anti-social this whole time and regret it. We both need to find middle ground.
-Alia
Saturday, February 27, 2010
Todd: All in the Family
In the late hours of February 17th 2010, the world met Katherine Anne LaFleur Flaherty. Katie. My biological daughter.
I'd be lying if I said I was immune to the sentiment. Even if I had nothing to do with the act of conceiving her, and will not likely be part of raising her, she's... out there in the world. She carries my DNA. She's part of me. When I held her, I felt a connection, but I can't exactly describe what. It's a little like the connection you feel to someone whose body you are occupying. Asked if I had any thoughts on a middle name, I suggested Anne, for Anne Marie.
Erica was absolutely bursting when she first saw the little peanut. Hopped up on the emotions of a fairly difficult labour, exhaustion, euphoria, she watched this little pink somebody squirming in her arms and just broke down in tears of delight, beaming. She whispered "You're here, you're here."
Sean was still out west, amidst the craziness of the Olympics and his reason for being there, which is a potential job. What kind of a job takes you two weeks to get (or not get) I have no idea.
The night before it happened, I'd had one of my recurring nightmares. I don't think I've actually mentioned them on the blog, because every time I have one I am just too weirded out to get a handle on myself and write about it. In this one, I was in Toronto, but sometimes I'm back in Connecticut. But the nightmare's recurring theme is the Inn: I look down and suddenly I'm back in Anne Marie's body. I've got her breasts, her chubby thighs, her little knees, her arms, her feet, her wide hips, her round bum, her pussy. I feel everything I did the way when I was her. It's a little colder, my muscles ache a little more, I feel a little lethargic and my breasts feel tender with age. I feel myself get a little wet, but not with arousal, with nervousness or fear (it's a dream, it doesn't have to make sense.) But everyone knows it's me. Alia was in this one. She was in her own body, but she wasn't acting like herself, but in the dream it was her and not Crystal. And I felt like she was getting angry at me for being Anne Marie, but she wasn't really. She was totally indifferent, but her seeing me like that made me feel so ashamed. Sometimes it's not Alia, sometimes it's my mom, or Bryan, or Erica, or my third grade teacher. But this deep, sore feeling wells up until I jolt awake. I don't get back to sleep most nights when I have them.
So anyway, I was up, and understandably freaked out. I was thinking about making a drink or smoking a bowl (except Erica doesn't have any at her place, where I've been staying, which is probably just as well as it is one of many bad habits I have been trying to leave behind.) Anyway. I was up on the couch, just not falling asleep, when suddenly I hear this rustling from Erica's room, followed by cries of intense (agony?) She calls out my name and bursts through the door. "Todd, Todd, it's happening!" she pants.
After a brief period of confused panic, during which I tried to figure out how to discern she was actually going into labour, I got her to the hospital (driving her car, a Kia.) While she was wheeled off, I called Sean in Vancouver to let him know he was going to be a dad.
I wasn't sure whether I wanted to be in the delivery room, but she did ask, so I thought, "Who am I to reject a pregnant lady's demands?" So in I went, to act as birthing partner, even though I hadn't done any Lamaze classes or anything (during my time staying with her, she did give me a primer on what would be expected, should she give birth, but it's one thing to hear, another thing to experience.)
What she couldn't know, and what I feel a little bad for thinking so hard about, was how traumatic it was for me. I mean, as far as she knows, I've never been a woman, don't know what having a vagina feels like, can't imagine something bursting out of it. But while no, I didn't know anything about the actuality of birth, I definitely lived through enough menstruation and other vaginal events to be able to synthesize it in my head. It's like imagining getting a finger cut off: you have fingers, and the rest you can fill in with your imagination.
This lasted a few hours, all the while I was wincing in sympathy pain in my imaginary vagina. 14 hours later, just before 11 PM, the cord was cut, and the little girl was in the open. Free and clear.
Bryan and Crystal were waiting outside, although Bry had nodded off. Crystal cooed over the baby like, well, a woman who really wanted one (which Bry took with self-effacing humour: "You're too young to want a baby.") Bry patted me on the back, and I joked "Hey, my work is done here. She's Sean's problem now."
I had only a little moment with her alone. I told her, "Katie, someday, you're going to wonder about this day. I don't know what your mommy and daddy are going to tell you, but someday they'll have to explain how you got here, and why daddy wasn't in the room with mommy, and who was holding her hand when... when she brought you into the world. I don't know who I'm gonna be to you, kiddo. I don't know if I wanna be Uncle Todd or other-daddy, or what. I don't want to be a stranger, but I think it's sad... I think it's sad that even if your mom tells you the truth, that still... you'll never be able to know the truth about where your real daddy was the day you were born."
When I got home, the first thing I did was e-mail Deb down in Florida to let her know that her daughter had been born.
Then I went to sleep for the first time in about 24 hours, going to work in the morning and returning to the hospital as soon as I could.
-Todd
I'd be lying if I said I was immune to the sentiment. Even if I had nothing to do with the act of conceiving her, and will not likely be part of raising her, she's... out there in the world. She carries my DNA. She's part of me. When I held her, I felt a connection, but I can't exactly describe what. It's a little like the connection you feel to someone whose body you are occupying. Asked if I had any thoughts on a middle name, I suggested Anne, for Anne Marie.
Erica was absolutely bursting when she first saw the little peanut. Hopped up on the emotions of a fairly difficult labour, exhaustion, euphoria, she watched this little pink somebody squirming in her arms and just broke down in tears of delight, beaming. She whispered "You're here, you're here."
Sean was still out west, amidst the craziness of the Olympics and his reason for being there, which is a potential job. What kind of a job takes you two weeks to get (or not get) I have no idea.
The night before it happened, I'd had one of my recurring nightmares. I don't think I've actually mentioned them on the blog, because every time I have one I am just too weirded out to get a handle on myself and write about it. In this one, I was in Toronto, but sometimes I'm back in Connecticut. But the nightmare's recurring theme is the Inn: I look down and suddenly I'm back in Anne Marie's body. I've got her breasts, her chubby thighs, her little knees, her arms, her feet, her wide hips, her round bum, her pussy. I feel everything I did the way when I was her. It's a little colder, my muscles ache a little more, I feel a little lethargic and my breasts feel tender with age. I feel myself get a little wet, but not with arousal, with nervousness or fear (it's a dream, it doesn't have to make sense.) But everyone knows it's me. Alia was in this one. She was in her own body, but she wasn't acting like herself, but in the dream it was her and not Crystal. And I felt like she was getting angry at me for being Anne Marie, but she wasn't really. She was totally indifferent, but her seeing me like that made me feel so ashamed. Sometimes it's not Alia, sometimes it's my mom, or Bryan, or Erica, or my third grade teacher. But this deep, sore feeling wells up until I jolt awake. I don't get back to sleep most nights when I have them.
So anyway, I was up, and understandably freaked out. I was thinking about making a drink or smoking a bowl (except Erica doesn't have any at her place, where I've been staying, which is probably just as well as it is one of many bad habits I have been trying to leave behind.) Anyway. I was up on the couch, just not falling asleep, when suddenly I hear this rustling from Erica's room, followed by cries of intense (agony?) She calls out my name and bursts through the door. "Todd, Todd, it's happening!" she pants.
After a brief period of confused panic, during which I tried to figure out how to discern she was actually going into labour, I got her to the hospital (driving her car, a Kia.) While she was wheeled off, I called Sean in Vancouver to let him know he was going to be a dad.
I wasn't sure whether I wanted to be in the delivery room, but she did ask, so I thought, "Who am I to reject a pregnant lady's demands?" So in I went, to act as birthing partner, even though I hadn't done any Lamaze classes or anything (during my time staying with her, she did give me a primer on what would be expected, should she give birth, but it's one thing to hear, another thing to experience.)
What she couldn't know, and what I feel a little bad for thinking so hard about, was how traumatic it was for me. I mean, as far as she knows, I've never been a woman, don't know what having a vagina feels like, can't imagine something bursting out of it. But while no, I didn't know anything about the actuality of birth, I definitely lived through enough menstruation and other vaginal events to be able to synthesize it in my head. It's like imagining getting a finger cut off: you have fingers, and the rest you can fill in with your imagination.
This lasted a few hours, all the while I was wincing in sympathy pain in my imaginary vagina. 14 hours later, just before 11 PM, the cord was cut, and the little girl was in the open. Free and clear.
Bryan and Crystal were waiting outside, although Bry had nodded off. Crystal cooed over the baby like, well, a woman who really wanted one (which Bry took with self-effacing humour: "You're too young to want a baby.") Bry patted me on the back, and I joked "Hey, my work is done here. She's Sean's problem now."
I had only a little moment with her alone. I told her, "Katie, someday, you're going to wonder about this day. I don't know what your mommy and daddy are going to tell you, but someday they'll have to explain how you got here, and why daddy wasn't in the room with mommy, and who was holding her hand when... when she brought you into the world. I don't know who I'm gonna be to you, kiddo. I don't know if I wanna be Uncle Todd or other-daddy, or what. I don't want to be a stranger, but I think it's sad... I think it's sad that even if your mom tells you the truth, that still... you'll never be able to know the truth about where your real daddy was the day you were born."
When I got home, the first thing I did was e-mail Deb down in Florida to let her know that her daughter had been born.
Then I went to sleep for the first time in about 24 hours, going to work in the morning and returning to the hospital as soon as I could.
-Todd
Saturday, February 20, 2010
Alia/Rob: Valentine
There are some cliches about women I've never cared for. It isn't that they don't have a grain of truth, but I think the truth is more nuanced than some people (men) assume.
One is that we're obsessed with emotions (romance, commitment, etc.) I think this definitely varies from girl to girl. I never felt passionate desire about another person (romantically) until I met Todd. Seriously. My whole teenage life was spent being shy and not very in touch with my emotions. There was a boy who liked me a lot, and I didn't feel the same way, and I humoured him a little bit before realizing how our perceptions of each other didn't match up, and when I finally had to be honest with him, he didn't take it well. I've seen boys, and men, break down emotionally. Don't tell me men aren't ruled by their emotions.
My first Valentine's day with Todd, we had just gotten together, and our relationship was very new and very passionate. I was definitely expecting something other than what I got, because he spent the whole night drunk to the point of incapacitation in my dorm room bed, with me handy with a receptacle for his vomit, rambling the entire time about how important I was to him (this was about three and a half months into our relationship) and how grateful he was to be with a girl like me. I began to wonder what I had gotten myself into.
That shouldn't be a pleasant memory for me. It symbolizes seemingly all the problems I had with him later, having to take care of him, having to put up with his immaturity, but the heart is a complicated thing and when I think back to that memory, I think of young love, and I barely remember the smell of alcohol-soaked vomit in a trashbin.
Flash forward 5 years to 2009. Apparently, my Todd was in Connecticut having "relations" (his charming word for it, alternating with "boner time") with Hal Adkisson while the man I believed to be him - in actuality a woman named Deb - was leaving me to my own devices. I've never felt lower than I did during that time, and the painful part of this whole ordeal is that even though I know the truth, that doesn't make the memory hurt any less. I mean, he had acted unfairly to me before, but this was the first time since knowing him he had flat-out ignored my existence. Imagine how hurtful, how baffling, it must've been for me at the time. And that led to certain actions of which I am not proud. But they were my choices.
(That miserable Valentine's Day was roughly on par with the previous year, which I spent observing the crumbling of my relationship with the real Todd. Amazing how things can change... but as much as Todd refers to me as "his girlfriend," the reality, as you can guess, is more complicated.)
So, even alone, far from home, male, paunchy, and frustrated both professionally and sexually, this was not fixing to be my worst Valentine's Day ever. But over the weekend I was feeling the need for some human contact, so I asked Cliff if she had any plans for the night.
She said no. In her group of six, four of them are happily coupled, while Raine was intending to go to a singles event to scam on guys. There was really no place for her. The content of our last posts notwithstanding, I think she's a really cool person, we get along well, and I feel like if we've got to suffer through this together, we may as well make the best of it (not in that way, though.) I offered to take her out to dinner.
She agreed, but pushed the chivalry, the "oh, why don't you let me pay" angle, and we ended up compromising and going Dutch. It wasn't a real date anyway.
I picked her up in a rental car. She was waiting at the door, saying she didn't want the hassle of introducing me to her "parents" inside, which I understand given the circumstances. We went out to the only place we could agree was sufficiently nice and yet still seemingly within our price range, a Sushi restaurant. Cliff was wary, she'd never had Sushi in her previous life, and apparently Tori did not enjoy it, but with a wry smile, she said to me, "I think if there's one thing we know about me nowadays, it's that I'm open to new things." That gave me a bit of a laugh.
We went inside - the place was packed but I had called the night before to squeeze in a reservation (but we still had to wait at the bar.) When she checked her overcoat, I saw a Cliff - make that a Tori - I had not yet met.
She had a very subtle make-up job, mascara and glossy lips. I couldn't tell whether someone had helped her with them or she just winged it (if so, doing a pretty good job.) She wore a silver necklace that didn't look like it matched the outfit and had been chosen at random from the jewelry box. The pendant, a heart, fell just at the top of her cleavage... she was wearing a rather low-cut black dress with a hemline that fell to the knee, and very obviously a push-up bra.
She caught me in my male gaze. She smirked, "See something you like, Rob?"
With a snort of flustered laughter, I replied "You can call me Al. It's a compromise." It's also a Paul Simon reference, a favourite dumb joke of Todd's, a way of keeping him in the conversation, and probably too obscure of a music reference for Cliff (not really shown herself to be a major music freak, but boy does she know computers.)
We took seats at the bar and I said, "You didn't have to do this."
"Well, let me have it," she said, "If I'm lucky, I won't have too many more opportunities to play dress-up."
"A lot of guys wouldn't be comfortable dressing that way."
"A few months in a body like this gives you time to get used to the idea," she replied.
"You pulled it off, except..."
"What?"
I said, "Your hair's a little wild." It has a tendency toward poofiness. Haircare takes a long time to master. She said she knows, and said she'd hoped she could get away with it. I said, normally, it would be fine, but with a more formal outfit like she had on, it looked odd. "I'd recommend a straightener, just to make mit more manageable."
At this point, smiling and saying "Thanks," she swept her hair behind her ear and I noticed something else.
"No earrings?"
"I wore them for a little bit, but they were hard to keep putting back in, so I let the holes close up. I keep meaning to get them re-done, but I'm a little nervous about it. I just wanna give tori her body back the same way it was when..."
She trailed off, so I completed her thought, "Yeah, I'm the same way. That's why I'm planning on putting those extra 8 pounds back on while I'm still Rob." She gave a little laugh. "Well anyway,, you look..." I paused and searched my mind for the right word before finally settling on "Nice." Yes, I have a Bachelor's Degree in English.
"You're just saying that."
"Well, think about it," I said "Tori's a very pretty girl. It must be hard walking the balance between her look, and your identity--"
"Yeah," she cut me off a little bit, "After a while, I got sick of thinking about how hard it is. It's all on the blog. I'm a guy, I'm a girl. I mean, have you ever really thought about how amazing this has all been?"
"Of course. Every day."
"I mean, knock on wood, Al, we're going home. I can stop holding my breath. I can really look around at the world around me safe in the knowledge that--"
"Don't jinx it."
She sighed. We ordered drinks - a beer for me and a rum and coke for her. She protested, thinking it would turn me into a drunk driver, but I insisted Rob's ability to handle alcohol was not slight.
We were eventually seated and she continued. "I read some of your posts about your relationship with Todd." I'd told her a bit about it as well, "You said you used to be real shy and introverted and not all that much into relationships."
"Yeah, that was pretty much it."
"That's me, Al. Except I never grew out of it." A waiter approached and I ordered for her, at her request.
She went on, "I've been thinking a lot about our conversation." (I thought, Jeez, this again?) "And you were right. It seems very complicated. I'm not built for that. I only asked you, because you know the truth about me, and I thought-- not that that would make it okay, but, I thought it would be wrong to be with someone who didn't know the truth about me."
I re-affirmed my belief that "It woukd be wrong for us to go after anyone."
She said, "Yeah, but that doesn't mean I can't want it. That's why it's so weird. that feeling I got when I met Willie... the way he seemed to see me, not Tori. That's what I want. And my main goal for when we get back is to find someone I can connect with."
Our food was served and she looked down at it noncommittally: both to the idea that she could find someone when she gets back to her normal self, and to the food.
"Hey," I said, taking the first bite, "You're surviving. That's all you've got to do."
She began to eat. After a few bites, she appraised the flavour and decided "It's not bad."
I raised my glass, "To new experiences!" She clinked a cheers. After we sipped, I added, "As my Mexican ancestors would say, Que Sera Sera."
She smirked, "That's not Spanish, I think it's Latin."
"Well, whatever. I know English, and high school French. That's it."
So then she said, with slight awe and envy, "You know, it's amazing. I'm here rambling about all my breakdowns and my sex-obsession, and you're just... you seem fine. You're like a rock. It's like it doesn't even bother you."
"Well, that's sorta true," I sighed, "It could be it just never hit me as hard as you. There are days when I feel absolutely shitty about this body -- sluggish, cut off from that feeling of... femininity, I guess you could say."
"Yeah, I'd say that," she winced.
"And there's days when I feel like I've got the whole world on my shoulders. The principal at this school is really on my ass, realizing I'm not, well, the most professional teacher ever. I'm trying, Cliff, I really am, but it does overwhelm me sometimes. I just have too much on my mind to stop and think Holy Crap I'm in a weird body. most of the time. When it does hit me, I feel like a total freak, but it's not often. And then there's the other difference... I have Todd to rely on. It helps to be so close with someone who's already been through it, and who's there for you. All you've got is me, and I haven't been so great at being your friend."
"That's not true," she protested, "You're a good friend. We're having dinner."
"Yeah, but sometimes, I mean, I feel guilty for not reaching out to you more."
"Well, you're here now," she said and we kept eating. She seemed to take to the sushi.
I still don't feel like I've excised my guilt over this whole situation. From the moment we sat down and realized how weird it was we had both changed our roles, we've both sort of stayed in our own spots, and she really seems to have had a tougher time of it. If we both make it out of this alive, it's possible I've made a good new friend. Hell, Cliff's family is only just across the border.
For now, though, the tough times seemed like they'd passed. We went upstairs to the Karaoke bar. Tori's voice is very nice, but not the way Cliff uses it to scream "I Want you To Want Me." I fared no better on "Satisfaction." I had no excuse though, because I was definitely sober enough to drive her home.
She wasn't so sober, though: she fell asleep on my shoulder on the drive back to her place. She looked so peaceful, it almost breaks your heart to know what she's been through.
-alia
One is that we're obsessed with emotions (romance, commitment, etc.) I think this definitely varies from girl to girl. I never felt passionate desire about another person (romantically) until I met Todd. Seriously. My whole teenage life was spent being shy and not very in touch with my emotions. There was a boy who liked me a lot, and I didn't feel the same way, and I humoured him a little bit before realizing how our perceptions of each other didn't match up, and when I finally had to be honest with him, he didn't take it well. I've seen boys, and men, break down emotionally. Don't tell me men aren't ruled by their emotions.
My first Valentine's day with Todd, we had just gotten together, and our relationship was very new and very passionate. I was definitely expecting something other than what I got, because he spent the whole night drunk to the point of incapacitation in my dorm room bed, with me handy with a receptacle for his vomit, rambling the entire time about how important I was to him (this was about three and a half months into our relationship) and how grateful he was to be with a girl like me. I began to wonder what I had gotten myself into.
That shouldn't be a pleasant memory for me. It symbolizes seemingly all the problems I had with him later, having to take care of him, having to put up with his immaturity, but the heart is a complicated thing and when I think back to that memory, I think of young love, and I barely remember the smell of alcohol-soaked vomit in a trashbin.
Flash forward 5 years to 2009. Apparently, my Todd was in Connecticut having "relations" (his charming word for it, alternating with "boner time") with Hal Adkisson while the man I believed to be him - in actuality a woman named Deb - was leaving me to my own devices. I've never felt lower than I did during that time, and the painful part of this whole ordeal is that even though I know the truth, that doesn't make the memory hurt any less. I mean, he had acted unfairly to me before, but this was the first time since knowing him he had flat-out ignored my existence. Imagine how hurtful, how baffling, it must've been for me at the time. And that led to certain actions of which I am not proud. But they were my choices.
(That miserable Valentine's Day was roughly on par with the previous year, which I spent observing the crumbling of my relationship with the real Todd. Amazing how things can change... but as much as Todd refers to me as "his girlfriend," the reality, as you can guess, is more complicated.)
So, even alone, far from home, male, paunchy, and frustrated both professionally and sexually, this was not fixing to be my worst Valentine's Day ever. But over the weekend I was feeling the need for some human contact, so I asked Cliff if she had any plans for the night.
She said no. In her group of six, four of them are happily coupled, while Raine was intending to go to a singles event to scam on guys. There was really no place for her. The content of our last posts notwithstanding, I think she's a really cool person, we get along well, and I feel like if we've got to suffer through this together, we may as well make the best of it (not in that way, though.) I offered to take her out to dinner.
She agreed, but pushed the chivalry, the "oh, why don't you let me pay" angle, and we ended up compromising and going Dutch. It wasn't a real date anyway.
I picked her up in a rental car. She was waiting at the door, saying she didn't want the hassle of introducing me to her "parents" inside, which I understand given the circumstances. We went out to the only place we could agree was sufficiently nice and yet still seemingly within our price range, a Sushi restaurant. Cliff was wary, she'd never had Sushi in her previous life, and apparently Tori did not enjoy it, but with a wry smile, she said to me, "I think if there's one thing we know about me nowadays, it's that I'm open to new things." That gave me a bit of a laugh.
We went inside - the place was packed but I had called the night before to squeeze in a reservation (but we still had to wait at the bar.) When she checked her overcoat, I saw a Cliff - make that a Tori - I had not yet met.
She had a very subtle make-up job, mascara and glossy lips. I couldn't tell whether someone had helped her with them or she just winged it (if so, doing a pretty good job.) She wore a silver necklace that didn't look like it matched the outfit and had been chosen at random from the jewelry box. The pendant, a heart, fell just at the top of her cleavage... she was wearing a rather low-cut black dress with a hemline that fell to the knee, and very obviously a push-up bra.
She caught me in my male gaze. She smirked, "See something you like, Rob?"
With a snort of flustered laughter, I replied "You can call me Al. It's a compromise." It's also a Paul Simon reference, a favourite dumb joke of Todd's, a way of keeping him in the conversation, and probably too obscure of a music reference for Cliff (not really shown herself to be a major music freak, but boy does she know computers.)
We took seats at the bar and I said, "You didn't have to do this."
"Well, let me have it," she said, "If I'm lucky, I won't have too many more opportunities to play dress-up."
"A lot of guys wouldn't be comfortable dressing that way."
"A few months in a body like this gives you time to get used to the idea," she replied.
"You pulled it off, except..."
"What?"
I said, "Your hair's a little wild." It has a tendency toward poofiness. Haircare takes a long time to master. She said she knows, and said she'd hoped she could get away with it. I said, normally, it would be fine, but with a more formal outfit like she had on, it looked odd. "I'd recommend a straightener, just to make mit more manageable."
At this point, smiling and saying "Thanks," she swept her hair behind her ear and I noticed something else.
"No earrings?"
"I wore them for a little bit, but they were hard to keep putting back in, so I let the holes close up. I keep meaning to get them re-done, but I'm a little nervous about it. I just wanna give tori her body back the same way it was when..."
She trailed off, so I completed her thought, "Yeah, I'm the same way. That's why I'm planning on putting those extra 8 pounds back on while I'm still Rob." She gave a little laugh. "Well anyway,, you look..." I paused and searched my mind for the right word before finally settling on "Nice." Yes, I have a Bachelor's Degree in English.
"You're just saying that."
"Well, think about it," I said "Tori's a very pretty girl. It must be hard walking the balance between her look, and your identity--"
"Yeah," she cut me off a little bit, "After a while, I got sick of thinking about how hard it is. It's all on the blog. I'm a guy, I'm a girl. I mean, have you ever really thought about how amazing this has all been?"
"Of course. Every day."
"I mean, knock on wood, Al, we're going home. I can stop holding my breath. I can really look around at the world around me safe in the knowledge that--"
"Don't jinx it."
She sighed. We ordered drinks - a beer for me and a rum and coke for her. She protested, thinking it would turn me into a drunk driver, but I insisted Rob's ability to handle alcohol was not slight.
We were eventually seated and she continued. "I read some of your posts about your relationship with Todd." I'd told her a bit about it as well, "You said you used to be real shy and introverted and not all that much into relationships."
"Yeah, that was pretty much it."
"That's me, Al. Except I never grew out of it." A waiter approached and I ordered for her, at her request.
She went on, "I've been thinking a lot about our conversation." (I thought, Jeez, this again?) "And you were right. It seems very complicated. I'm not built for that. I only asked you, because you know the truth about me, and I thought-- not that that would make it okay, but, I thought it would be wrong to be with someone who didn't know the truth about me."
I re-affirmed my belief that "It woukd be wrong for us to go after anyone."
She said, "Yeah, but that doesn't mean I can't want it. That's why it's so weird. that feeling I got when I met Willie... the way he seemed to see me, not Tori. That's what I want. And my main goal for when we get back is to find someone I can connect with."
Our food was served and she looked down at it noncommittally: both to the idea that she could find someone when she gets back to her normal self, and to the food.
"Hey," I said, taking the first bite, "You're surviving. That's all you've got to do."
She began to eat. After a few bites, she appraised the flavour and decided "It's not bad."
I raised my glass, "To new experiences!" She clinked a cheers. After we sipped, I added, "As my Mexican ancestors would say, Que Sera Sera."
She smirked, "That's not Spanish, I think it's Latin."
"Well, whatever. I know English, and high school French. That's it."
So then she said, with slight awe and envy, "You know, it's amazing. I'm here rambling about all my breakdowns and my sex-obsession, and you're just... you seem fine. You're like a rock. It's like it doesn't even bother you."
"Well, that's sorta true," I sighed, "It could be it just never hit me as hard as you. There are days when I feel absolutely shitty about this body -- sluggish, cut off from that feeling of... femininity, I guess you could say."
"Yeah, I'd say that," she winced.
"And there's days when I feel like I've got the whole world on my shoulders. The principal at this school is really on my ass, realizing I'm not, well, the most professional teacher ever. I'm trying, Cliff, I really am, but it does overwhelm me sometimes. I just have too much on my mind to stop and think Holy Crap I'm in a weird body. most of the time. When it does hit me, I feel like a total freak, but it's not often. And then there's the other difference... I have Todd to rely on. It helps to be so close with someone who's already been through it, and who's there for you. All you've got is me, and I haven't been so great at being your friend."
"That's not true," she protested, "You're a good friend. We're having dinner."
"Yeah, but sometimes, I mean, I feel guilty for not reaching out to you more."
"Well, you're here now," she said and we kept eating. She seemed to take to the sushi.
I still don't feel like I've excised my guilt over this whole situation. From the moment we sat down and realized how weird it was we had both changed our roles, we've both sort of stayed in our own spots, and she really seems to have had a tougher time of it. If we both make it out of this alive, it's possible I've made a good new friend. Hell, Cliff's family is only just across the border.
For now, though, the tough times seemed like they'd passed. We went upstairs to the Karaoke bar. Tori's voice is very nice, but not the way Cliff uses it to scream "I Want you To Want Me." I fared no better on "Satisfaction." I had no excuse though, because I was definitely sober enough to drive her home.
She wasn't so sober, though: she fell asleep on my shoulder on the drive back to her place. She looked so peaceful, it almost breaks your heart to know what she's been through.
-alia
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