Greg/Alexis: Season Finale

Life is a big, crazy roller coaster. Not like a real life roller coaster but something that you would design in Roller Coaster Tycoon and none of the park guests would ride it because it was too crazy. Full of high hills, low valleys, and turns that will leave you dizzy and with neck pain. I dont know if its true of all life or I just notice it more because I'm so used to living someone else's life. I think the fact that major events in my life(s) have been chronicled on this blog for the last few years makes it more apparent as well.

When I last posted a little over 2 weeks ago, I was in the dumps. The sting of Amber having moved on permanently focused my attention on all that the inn had taken from me. Lately though, I've begun to appreciate all the unique experiences and situations the inn has given to me.

Over the past 12 months I've gained first hand insight on being gay, being a manager, living in Vermont, as well as much more insight into being a woman. I also learned how to be whatever role it was that I filled for Malinda. At first I was trying to be her guide or mentor then it evolved into babysitter until finally it became friend, which really is what all of us need most after the trauma of becoming someone else.

I'm glad now I didn't give up on her entirely because she was there when I needed a friend, and I think she could really sympathize with what I was going through and I didn't have to pretend to be anyone else around her.

So home life turned into girls night in on the weekdays and girls night out on the weekends, where we would go out drinking. And not "lets go to the bar for a few" drinking but "hardcore sorority girl scream really loud" drinking. I'll admit that I used to think that girls like that were vapid and annoying, but it is really fun to blow off steam and just dance like crazy. Malinda was really encouraging at getting me out of my shell at first and even politely declined when guys would ask her do dance. (I didn't get many invitations, even in a fancy dress and makeup the haircut and body type are a dead giveaway).

Anyway, Saturday night we got back to our place about 2 am still a little tipsy and I'm unsure how this next part progressed. Maybe it was her subtly teasing me about her getting more attention and me responding that I'd do better at a gay bar. Maybe it was flipping channels and her idly commenting on how cute some girl on tv was. Maybe it was us debating ordering a late night pizza and commenting on how it would go to her my thighs and her butt, and then each of us commenting on how nice each of those looked. Anyway it happened, we were face to face, talking, and then we interrupted each other with a kiss.

I froze. I remembered the fallout of our last kiss and didn't want it to happen again. "I'm sorry" I stammered "I dont know what came over me. I didn't mean to--"

She responded by kissing me again. Harder, with her hand around my head and her tongue in my mouth. "Don't talk me out of this" she said with a laugh. Overcome by my dry spell and the moment I rolled with it for a few more minutes before she began stroking my leg, which caused me to stroke hers in turn. Finally she took a deep breath, looked me in the eyes and said "Upstairs"

I wasn't going to second guess her so I stood up and took her by the hand upstairs. I wanted to carry her, but even in my fit form I'm not that strong as a girl. I pushed her down on the bed and took my shoes off. I began struggling out of my dress in a pretty unsexy way before lifting Malinda up, kissing her, and saying "unzip me". She obliged and I slithered out of my club dress.

She stared at me for a moment, kneeling there in only my thong, and idly stroked my abs "You ARE fit" she said, a bit awestruck. She continued exploring like a kid in a candy store, which makes sense because I was the first naked woman she'd seen under these circumstances. Finally she started slowly kissing my neck and I stroked her back while taking in the sensations. Eventually she started playing with my breast before moving her mouth down to my nipples. Clearly she felt like taking the lead in this.

Taking the passive role I unzipped her and laid down on the bed. She kissed and explored a little while longer before taking my panties off and getting to work. I fully expected her to be clumsy at it what with her being a bit of a prude before, but she got into it. I don't know if it was the fact that was she aroused combined with her lifetime knowledge of the female anatomy but she wasn't half bad. After I felt an orgasm wash over me she looked over at me with a huge smile on her face. "Success?" she asked knowing answer.

All I did was nod, sit up, kiss her and whisper "Your turn". Now it was my turn to be awestuck. As I helped her out of her dress I got my first look at Malinda's (really Sharon's) naked body. Obviously I had checked her out and stolen glances when she wasn't looking, but this was different. It was clear that Malinda had been taking care of it. Unlike Annabelle who had a perfectly chiseled athlete's body, Sharon's is more feminine and soft, with just the right amount of curve.

I used every trick I had learned over the past year or so, almost as if I were trying to make sure she came away with a positive view of lesbian sex. Her nails digging into the sheets and screams at the end were all the assurance I needed.

I curled up next to her, still feeling the effects of alcohol but a lot less so. I put my arms around her "So?"

"So..." she giggled "Pretty cool"

We kissed a little more before falling asleep in each others arms. When we woke up I was nervous, hoping it wasn't just the alcohol. She opened her eyes and smiled at me.

"About last night" I said nervously

"No replay" she said mockingly "You've got to get to work"

"I meant...how do you feel about it"

She responded by kissing me softly "Same as last night"

"So this makes us...."

"It makes you late, and me gay. But we've got two weeks left like this so lets avoid over labeling" She then got out of bed and put her robe on to make breakfast while I got ready for work.

That was about 10 days ago, and most of the subsequent nights have been similar. I had to beg her to tell the blog about it, because while it is personal and private, its also a major development in this life.

So while we prepare for our return trip to the inn, we're living basically as wife and wife, but well aware of the temporary nature of it and she is excited to get back to her old life. Everything seems to be in place in that regard.

It feels like a mini happy ending for me, at least to this chapter. The different lives ive been in seem like movies or television seasons, and every year theres a new season or sequel. This one by far has been my favorite.

-Greg

Burt (Lisa): It's like walking into the middle of a movie and needing an explanation

I've been sitting here for a while trying to figure out what to say for myself. I understand there's a lot of followers out there who probably know even more about this situation than me, even though I'm living it. But it's nice to know I have someone I can talk to.

First of all, Lisa, Shaun and Zane are all really nice people, and as soon as I figured out who they all were, and who I was supposed to be, we got along pretty great. Lisa seemed exasperated at first at the idea of not getting her own body back, but she knows I didn't do this on purpose. Obviously.

In preparation for my new part (so to speak) she gave me a heartening talk about how it's not that hard to fake your way through someone else's life... the "Inn's magic" does most of the work. The real task is not to disrupt the delicate balance of another person's personal life. Fair enough, I suppose. From what I've learned the previous "Shaun and Lisa" were a married couple in their real lives and decided to carry that over to their time in these bodies. The real Shaun and Lisa are understandably not pleased about the situation that leaves them, I mean us.

That's caused a certain amount of tension for me. Our living conditions are now that of a one-bedroom apartment and let's be honest, it would probably be better to have some space and time to figure this all out for myself. Shaun's been a good sport, but I sense him gritting his teeth when trying to negotiate the morning routine.

Lisa's body... hm. I'm taking it one day at a time. I have sisters so I'm aware of the level of maintenance a female body requires. It's a good body, roughly my own age, holding up well without much "extra." Lisa is a pretty practical woman, so it's not like her wardrobe is full of oversexualized or even embarrassingly feminine attire. For comfort's sake, I've been favoring dresses and low cut tops in this summer heat. They definitely have an advantage there, and this is coming from a California guy!

I definitely feel odd getting home at night and unclasping my bra, letting "the girls" out as I prepare for bed... it feels almost naughty that I have this body to myself even though (as Lisa often points out) it's hardly in "pinup" condition. But quite frankly, it's nothing to be ashamed of, as far as women go. Good shape.

I haven't discussed my feelings about it much with Lisa, but hopefully she understands there are certain... views I'm entitled to as current tenant of her body.

Does that sound weird? I sound weird don't I. Don't mind me. I'm not here to make trouble. Really. You'll get that about me.

Greg/Alexis: Ghosts

So it's been awhile since you last heard from me, and its not because I don't like you guys anymore, its just that we have an unwritten rule at this blog is that you hold off on posting if someone else has something more important to say. And for like the past 2 or 3 weeks or so about 5 people on this blog have had something happen to them thats life-changing, and since I knew about them ahead of time (I'm special) I let those guys have the forum to work out their issues. Plus the Zane/Lisa/Burt debacle is a cautionary tale for anyone who ever tries to use the inn to their own advantage.

When I last posted here I was ready to dive head long into the online dating pool. A month later I'm sad to report that I splashed around and floundered like a little kid in that regard.


Turns out, the limited amount of single gay women in Vermont arent exactly looking for someone with a very short term expectation who is oddly mysterious about her personal life. Most of the time it wound up being a few emails exchanged before either of us decided we weren't on the same page.

One woman I did wind up meeting. Her name was Elise and she was a couple years older than me, about 35. She actually lived about 20 minutes outside of Burlington but was new to the whole scene, mainly because she wasn't officially out of the closet yet. She was looking to experience new things and maybe experiment a little if we hit it off, no strings attached. That was all I needed to hear.

We met at a small coffee shop in her town. She wasn't bad to look at, a few extra pounds and glasses but cute curly brown hair and a nice smile. She gave me an awkward hug when we first saw each other but I laughed it off and we sat down to talk.

The thing is, once we started talking, the conversation would always shift back to me being gay or being gay in general. This made me slightly uncomfortable, not only because I was hardly an expert in the subject but it made me seem like I was there only to satisfy her curiosity. As the night wore on it became clear that this chick either had a fantasy she wanted to play out or needed to try something to convince herself of something, either way I didn't feel like playing guinea pig, so I politely declined even when she offered to take me back to her place.

I kind of regretted not taking her up on the offer as my drought continued, until last weekend when I got some news that really shook me up.

Sometime last year I stopped using my old facebook profile from my original body, as well as any other online representation of Greg Schmitt. It was part closure and acceptance that I was never goingto be the original me ever again, so I stopped acting like it online. Maintaining contact with people from my past was useless if I was never going to be able to see or talk to them again, so the only person from my old life who knows how to get in touch with me is Priya, and that's because she was inn cursed too.

Anyway, we rarely talked other than a few odd emails here and there, but the other day she sent me an email with a link to the local newspaper's website. Specifically to the marriage announcements section. There, standing next to a man slightly taller than her, was Amber. My former fiancee. I broke down and started crying. I mean, sure it makes sense for her to move on with her life, after all as far as shes concerned, Greg left her and ran away with his secretary. Its just that I never really got to say goodbye. I spent time living the life of her best friend before leaving her behind along with everyone I ever grew up with. I've put her out of my mind and over her mostly, but without any updates or contact with her she remains in my mind just as she was when I left her almost two years ago.

That sent me once again into a state of mourning not just for my relationship, but for my old self. I didn't like what I had become, a vagrant soul making the best of whatever an ancient curse had to offer him, or her as I've been for so long. A shade of my former self, living life in the bodies of other people after he was figuratively dead to so many of his loved ones.

I don't know if theres light at the end of this tunnel, all I know is that there is another tunnel. This particular one hasn't been half bad. I'm young, I live in a cool place, and I seemed to have worked things out with Malinda, who has been really sympathetic and patient with me since I found out about Amber's wedding.

In one month's time Malinda and I will be back in Maine, hopefully she'll get her happy ending and go back to Texas. Me? I'm just hoping its not too painful

-Greg

Tori: Like a Ton of Bricks

There have been a few times in my life when the truth hit me like a ton of bricks. The first was when I woke up in the body of a woman. The second was when I found out I wasn't going back. The third was when I realized I had to break up with Buddy and pursue Alex. And every time, this blog was here for me. I never thought I'd have a moment like that again in my life, but Friday night, I had the worst.

I have never been so mad at someone I care so much about, and until he arrived at my door I considered cutting him out of my life completely. I'm a pretty strong person by now, I should be able to walk away from someone if they treat me like that. But it was the first time he had ever shown that side of himself. The first time I saw any dissatisfaction and anger about our relationship. Even when he told me he didn't want to move in, he was nice about it. I wanted closure on this issue... I wanted to know what was behind that outburst. If it ended with us breaking up, I could accept that, but I needed to give him a chance.

When he arrived, I had him sit down, and I put him at ease by saying I had gotten Raine out of the apartment for the night. He didn't know where to begin. Neither did I. We each opened a beer.

"We can't pretend nothing happened last night," I said.

"I'm not like that, Tori," he said. "You know me."

"Yeah, I thought I did."

"I get frustrated sometimes. Not with you, but with... other stuff in my life. Stuff I can't tell you about, but it’s starting to get in the way."

"That's not gonna cut it," I told him. "You love me. I love you. You shouldn't feel like there's anything you can't tell me. Just respect me enough to talk to me instead of bottling it up."

"If I tell you this, it's going to change your opinion of me. It's going to change everything."

“If you don’t trust me, I don’t know if we can be together,” I told him.

He stalled a while before I finally dragged it out of him. He said it wasn't a problem until he realized we were going to be together a long time, that he cared about me and that I wanted to move in. He admitted he knew all the advantages, and that there was no lack of love or desire to move in but for certain reasons it wasn't "practical."

Then he asked if I trusted him to always be honest, and if I would promise to believe the thing he was about to say, and forgive him if necessary. I got a serious bad feeling in the pit of my stomach, but the answer was, of course, "Yes." There has to be honesty, right?

"I'm not who you think I am," he said. "And I want you to know that even though this makes no sense at all, it's the truth, and I would never do anything to hurt you."

And then he took a deep breath and told me a very familiar story.

A few years ago, before he met me, he took a trip to New England, winding up in Maine.

And wouldn't you know it. One morning, he and everyone else staying at this little Inn woke up to find they had been transformed into different people.

His name isn't really Alex, it's George Mueller. He's only been "Alex" for two years.

I just sat there, trying to keep a blank expression on my face as he told me this story that I lived through, treating me like I would never imagine such a thing... I mean, I never imagined trying to explain my situation to anyone because, well, I guess I was afraid I might sound like Alex did here. He was so worried I thought he was nuts. I just nodded along trying to figure out how to react.

"I never lied to you on purpose," he repeated, "It's just that I never thought I could tell anyone and make them believe me... but I feel so close to you, I thought maybe, just maybe you'd give me the benefit of the doubt."

It took me a while to realize he was telling me this without knowing the truth about me. That this was pure trust on his part, hoping I would be understanding about this strange situation.

I spent a long time just thinking it over in my head. It was a lot to come to terms with. I took a long time figuring out how I was "supposed" to react, as if it was all new to me.

For a second, just a second, I wanted to throw my arms around him and admit my own truth, to show him he wasn't alone. But I stopped myself. I had this intense feeling of self-consciousness. It was selfish of me to want to keep this illusion up, but after my experience with Karen a few months ago, I felt so exposed just talking to someone who knew the truth about me... like I had to be both Cliff and Tori, and I gave up on being Cliff a long time ago. I really don't think I can have someone in my life, someone I care about, knowing who I used to be. I would always worry that they'd look at me and try to see Cliff, judge me because I came to love this life as second nature. I was afraid he just wouldn't be able to handle it.

He leaned in, and asked hopefully, "Do you believe me?"

"Yeah... I think I do," I said, then added, "There's always been this strange aura about you."

He wrapped his arms around me and kissed me.

“I’m sorry I lashed out,” he said. “I was thinking about how much I love you, and how much I feel you love me... and I got scared. For a second, I thought pushing you away was better than telling the truth. Anytime I think about how close we are, I get scared you'll hate me for lying and I... I freaked out. I hope you can forgive me.”

I took a deep breath. “I can.”

When he pulled away, he stood up and said, "It's a lot to expect someone to handle this. I can't prove it. It makes no sense, even to me. You might just be humoring me, but it's out there. You can think whatever you want about it, but I'm glad I said it."

“I’m glad you did, too,” I told him.

And then he left.

And then I went and lay down in bed and thought "God... what am I gonna do now?"

Tori: It won't go away

I thought this "moving in" issue was settled. Maybe not to my liking, but like a lot of things in my life I learned to deal with it. For reasons he has never explained, he doesn't feel comfortable enough for either of us to uproot, even though we've been sleeping together for almost a year, had all the prerequisite coupley moments, and said the L-word as often as each other's names. I mean, whatever.

But I've accepted it. He doesn't want to go domestic. Sure, he loved when we could carpool, or when I was out of work and making him breakfast every other morning, but things have changed. Suddenly it's not so convenient when I'm at his place and we both have to get to work, and he doesn't want to give me a lift because of the traffic going that direction will require us to leave an hour early.

Me staying over simply doesn't work. I was lying in bed at 11 last night. He was drifting off to sleep next to me, and I was mentally trying to figure out how to get to work for the next morning. I only had one choice. With a deep breath, I slowly lifted his arm off me and sat up.

He muttered sleepily, "Oh, just gonna fuck me and leave then?"

I'm not in a joking mood but I pretend, telling him "Sorry beautiful, you know the drill."

"Can we just lie here a little while longer?" I can see his real intentions by the tent he's pitching under the sheets, and as much as I'd love another ride, I really need to get home.

"If you want, we can resume this party at my place," I offer as a consolation prize.

He won't take it. I don't know why, but he just won't do it with Raine next door. We've been known to make love at volumes that go through walls (I'm sorry, I can't help it) and she's teased us about it. I mean, I can take it, it's girl-talk, but I don't think he likes her knowing how long he can (or can't) last. I tell him he has nothing to worry about, but you know men.

I think in general he doesn't like her, though. A while ago I found out she was having a little fling with Danny, our supposedly-gay friend. It ended in June, and she was pretty beat up about it. I was supportive, even though I didn't get how it happened. Alex was not supportive of my support.

Just to let you know, that whole thing apparently started when Raine was invited to "partake" in a three-way with Danny and a bisexual guy, and I guess they thought they had chemistry, just the two of them. Alex, in an attempt to wash his hands of the whole scenario, now dislikes coming over to my place. It's really driven a wedge in our social circle.

On the drive back to my place, I let it slip: "I just hate that you don't like any of my friends."

He defended himself: He liked my friends fine until they all started screwing around and making it impossible to be around them. I rolled my eyes. Everyone has friends like that. So Raine and Danny had a falling out. Sara and Thom are off in their own little engaged world. TRhat didn't mean they weren't good people, who are important to me.

"You don't like any of my friends either," he said.

"You don't have any friends," I replied. BAD. MOVE.

(I mean, is it obvious I haven't had a ton of relationship experience? But I really thought I was getting the hang of it.)

He loses it. "I have friends! I'm friends with everyone I work with. You never come by the old office to say hi."

"Because I work too now! And it's embarrassing enough to be the only person who got fired, out of like 200 people" I was ballparking this figure because I was tired and upset, "And I don't remember you ever talking too much about anyone from work."

"Because so many of them are women and you get so jealous anytime I even look at another girl!"

"I do not!"

"You're always talking about how much better looking you are, how glad you are that you don't look like them or dress like them or whatever that means... remember when that Karen chick came up from Louisville? You really seemed to fucking hate her, even though you claimed she was a friend. I think the reason you wanted to rush into moving in was because you were afraid I'd cheat on you if I ever got out of your sight. Even though I'm the one that should be worried about you."

All the breath left my body. All the blood rushed to my face. I just stared at him as he stared out at the night road. I had to speak slowly. "What. The Fuck. Is That. Supposed. To Mean."

He said exactly what I knew it meant: "It means I stole you from Buddy, and there's always a chance I'll just lose you to the next guy."

I welled up with tears. I couldn't face him. I couldn't talk anymore. When we got back to my place, I just quietly left the car and stomped into the building, getting in the elevator, letting my tears hit the ground.

I couldn't believe someone I loved so much would say such mean, hurtful things. Even when we fight, we never fight, but for whatever reason we just lost it on each other, and he really didn't fucking hold back.

I spent all night crying in my pillow wondering: What the hell did he want from me? He wants me around, but he doesn't want me to live with him, doesn't like my friends, doesn't like the inconvenience of me having to do stuff without him (like work.) Is it so wrong, after all I've been through, to want a little consistency in my life?

I have to remind myself, Alex doesn't know "what I've been through." But his interpretation of my personality, my "jealousy" and worst of all the idea that someone might "steal me" from him really hit hard.

From the way he made me feel about myself... I mean, that was not okay at all. And for the first time since we started, I thought about breaking up with him, but I couldn't bring myself to give much power to that thought. One bad night isn't going to erase the good ones. It's not like this is typical.

I thought about it all day today. Hell, I probably talked my co-worker's ear off about it. For his part, he was a pretty patient listener. Then while I was writing this blog entry, I got this text:

"I'm so sorry for last night. I think I'm ready to talk about this. I hope you are too."

It's 7:00 now. I told him to come over at 8. It's time for us to have a serious talk about our relationship.

Lisa/Zane: Picking up from there...

"Lisa/Zane." Oh, my God, even after all the stuff we've been through with this Inn, I never expected I would be typing a phrase like that.

I couldn't spend too much time taking inventory, when Shaun called me over to show me what had become of Anthony's "substitute." I don't know why both of us sort of assumed Zane was in my body, since Anth's was between us, and if I took Zane's, then the person next to Shaun would have to be "me."

But going back even further, to the conversation Zane and I had that, I guess, lasted long enough into the night that our transformations kickstarted without us knowing it... I was so pissed off at Anthony. Even moreso now, but even then. Look, none of us have great lives. I'm struggling, Zane's chronically unemployed, and Doug left his life as something of a mess. A year away wasn't likely to make things better for any of us, but Anthony opting out, and leaving us with a new person to explain this whole shitty situation... that was a dick move. And I had to rant to somebody, and Zane and I had been getting on so well all week that s/he was my go-to. If I had been in Shaun's room, maybe I'd be in my own body.

Maybe I'd be in his body, and he'd be in mine. Still a crappy situation, but one we could explain easier.

So we're all faced with this complication, with Burt in my body. Zane, by process of elimination, is now Anthony. When I came to his door, and I said who I was, he got this perverse grin, this shit-eating grin Anthony sometimes gets that makes me want to punch him. It's all very "no time to explain."

So we gathered in Burt's room, where I have the very surreal visual, like watching myself on video doing something I don't remember... it's "me" sitting on the bed, draped in a much larger man's clothes, hair looking stringy, face puffy from lack of sleep. Ugh, I could hardly look.

But Shaun took the leadership role, being the one who wasn't in the wrong body.

He stammered a while. "You're um... you used to be... uh... you're not..."

"Who are you people?" Burt finally asks.

"My name is Shaun," he says, "And this is Zane, and, and, uh, Lisa." I had to hide my eyes.

"What happened to me?"

"It happened to all of us," Shaun answered, "Um, what we know, uh, we don't know everything about this, but, see, the Inn has some kind of curse on it... it's been going on for years. It takes your body... and it gives it to someone else."

I'll spare you the rest of the details. I don't know if I could have explained it any better, but there was so much backtracking and elaborating and contradicting in his explanation it probably made things a lot worse.

Like I said, the thing I hated the most is that we had to explain it.

But basically, we rambled through the whole story of how we found out about the inn last year, spent a year living in these other bodies, and made it back year later.

"But... I'm a woman."

"Yeah... um, see, it's not exact." He gestured to me, "Lisa was supposed to get her body back, but somehow it didn't go... as planned."

Burt was doing weird things, like running his fingers through my hair, trying to piece it all together in his head.

"I have to be a woman for a year... and you people... all went through this already?"

"Look, take your time with it," Shaun said, "This happens a lot, apparently, so... like, just try not to freak out too hard. It's gonna be okay."

I couldn't have done better. It was terrible, but I couldn't have done better.

We had a similar, slightly more well thought out version of the same discussion several times later that day. No one looks to be facing any tragedy in this case. I think a lot of the visitors in the previous block were at a bachelor party - mostly men - whereas half the inn this week was a singles mixer, so... there were a few other women who became guys.

I guess there's a lot to cover here, but I get really weird when I try to write too much of it, which is sorta why I never wrote here too much. I'm trying to get over it, though, because obviously this whole transformation game isn't over for me!

-Lisa...Zane... LiZane.

Shaun: Aftershocks

I don't think any of us, for a year, considered the possibility of not going back to the Inn.

Ethically, none of us wanted to. I had stolen another man's wife. Lisa had stolen a girl's youth. Zane had inherited some very real problems. And Anthony, we all knew, had some level of guilt for bringing us to the Inn. Whenever I spoke to him all year, he's mentioned feeling like it was his responsibility to get us back safe and sound.

Failure was not an option. And as shocking as it was to see Anthony's post, eventually we accepted that he did what he did for us. I wish he would have discussed it with us beforehand, but we can see his reasons for keeping it a secret.

Zane was the most amused. "I can't believe that bitch didn't tell me!" she laughed. "She knows how pissed off Wes was when I said I'd be taking this trip without him. I would've loved to see the look on his face when he saw me grow my cock back."

"So what do we do?" Lisa asked. "Do we, like... go introduce ourselves to him? Or do we just wait for the transformation to explain everything?" She had a point... for at least a year, this person was going to look like our friend. And yet part of me didn't want to see what he looked like, didn't want to face the reality of what we were doing to his life. Didn't want to humanize him.

Besides, we couldn't have warned him his life was about to be turned upside down. In fact, none of us could have known exactly how badly it was going to be turned upside down.

We didn't have to wonder too long, actually. That was the night it happened. The others can describe you their experiences transforming "back," being "ready" for it as ready as you can be... mind was subtle, like being in a warm bath I guess. My skin started to get irritated, then all of a sudden late that night, I had a bit less hair and a bit more of a gut. That's it.

When I was sure it was happening to me, I rushed next door. I know there's some kind of location aspect of who-becomes-who, but once the process was started, I knew. it would be safe to leave my room.

We had four rooms all lined up. To my left was Lisa's room. Beside that was supposed to be Anthony, and on the other side was Zane. Knowing how "out of it" Zane could get, I figured I should go talk to Lisa right away to discuss how to explain our situation to the new Anthony. So I gathered my thoughts, checked to make sure my own changes were finished (right down to the scar on my elbow from when I was ten!) and went over to Lisa's room and knocked. The door opened a crack. Someone looked out at me.

It wasn't Lisa.

When they saw who I was, they opened the door wide, but stayed behind it. "Get in, quick," the voice said.

I turned to see Zane, standing with his back against the wall, wrapped in bedspread.

"Zane? What are you doing in--"

"It's not Zane," he cut me off. He lowered his eyes to the ground. "It's Lisa."

I stared. I felt faint. Despite all our preparations something had gone wrong. Even though I knew I was back in my own body, I was hurt - disappointed, shocked, annoyed - that this had happened.

Lisa began to pace around, frantically explaining - she had gone to Zane's room for a talk. They'd been spending a lot of time together since the trip began, Zane had opened up to her all about his experience as Clara and they bonded. They ended up talking way into the night and hadn't even realized the transformation must have started when Lisa went back to her room... only to be rudely awakened by growing a, er... Zane-part.

I can't even speak to that.

Lisa, however, handled it as only a minor frustration. As much as this was a failure in our plan, at least we knew what was happening. There was somebody next door who needed our help.

I told Lisa to go see what was up with Zane when she was ready, and meet me at "Anthony's" room. I figured it would be reassuring for Zane to see his own face if he ended up in Lisa's body, and that hopefully this next year would be less traumatic than the last.

I went over to introduce myself to "Anthony." Anth had left us with this unfortunate task of bringing this person into the "Inn" world - explaining what we know about the Inn, including how it's possible to change back. I kept going over the words in my head, trying to figure out the exact right angle to come at it.

I knocked on the door. No answer. "Listen, if you can hear me--" I shouted at the door, "I know something has happened to you in there, and I need to explain it to you. It's not... it's no big deal, please don't freak out..."

The doorknob turned.

And there she was. Lisa.

Or, somebody in Lisa's body. Looking at me with murder in her eyes.

That would be Burt Cobb, the 31-year-old man Anthony had intended to give his body.

Suddenly I completely forgot what I was going to say.

Anthony/CeeCee: I'm Sorry For This.

My name is Anthony Levine. Or at least, it used to be.

I've spent the ten months living in the body of a woman named Charlotte Christopoulos. It has not been easy. For any man, adjusting to the life of a woman would be a chore. You can imagine why, and you'd only be halfway there. There is still so much to know about being someone else. Anyone else. I took this challenge and, as I have with a lot of other obstacles in my life, did the best I could with it. It was hard, stressful, nerve-wracking, but I couldn't let on that I was struggling. There was work to do.

I messed up. Because it was an accident there is no reason I should feel guilty, but I do. Because of me three of my closest friends were transformed into other people, so I've worked tirelessly to get them, and me, back where we belong. I was single-minded. Survive, thrive, earn money to return to Maine, ignore the voice in my head reminding me of all the people my company - a travel agency - sent to that inn in Maine over the years. How many ruined lives are implicitly on my hands. Atone.

Bad things happen, no matter how good you are at planning. People will make mistakes, or things happen that are beyond your control. In my old life, I was a VP, I had a beautiful girlfriend I was planning to marry, I had money and status. Then I was turned into this, and somebody else had to be turned into me.

That somebody else... was a child. A preteen without enough sense of the world to deal with life at the level I was living. I could do everything right as Charlotte, but there was no way that kid was ever going to be a good Anthony.

He lost everything for me. Shaun has written about how guilty he feels for ruining Doug's relationship. It isn't his fault, and it isn't the Kid's fault for ruining mine, but it happened, and my career and my savings, and everything. It's gone. There was nothing I could do from here to protect it.

If I was going to go back to Maine, if I was going to go back to being Anthony, I would be starting from scratch. Worse off than I ever was before. And these are bad economic times to be trying to rebuild your life. I couldn't take it.

Shaun's a good man. He didn't steal Doug's life, even though Doug has everything Shaun seems to want. I'm not going back to the Inn. The real Charlotte has known this for some time. As far as I know, she will continue living as Wayne Tyson in Scotsdale, Arizona. As Wayne "he" is very much in love with his wife Linda, the original Clara. I don't know who will be claiming her body from Zane. It's none of my business.

My point is that as guilty as I feel for what I did to my friends, I did everything I could to fix it, I got the three of them back to Maine and if everything goes according to plan, they will be back where they belong in no time. I have to stay in Los Angeles. I'm going to be CeeCee for the rest of my life, barring some insane change of plans. I don't mind it here. The job has room for advancement. The body is sufficient for my needs. I'm thinking of getting a cat.

I've known this was happening for a few months now. I couldn't bring myself to tell anyone sooner because I was ashamed. I'm afraid you'll all think I'm taking the easy way out. Worried that you'll think less of me because I see "life as a woman" as better than "life stripped of everything I had." Afraid you'll think I'm some kind of thief. I hope you'll understand that I only did what I had to do.

This is the worst part.

The inn only works when enough people go. I had already made a reservation and couldn't cancel. This was all very time-sensitive. Through this blog, I learned about Travelers, who go back to the Inn for fun, or entertainment, or whatever. I first tried to offer my old body to Greg, but the timing didn't work out with him returning Alexis' body to her. He put me in touch with Fletcher, but he was unable to find any of his friends to visit the Inn that week.

So I took out an ad, and I sold my reservation privately, to someone who hasn't ever been before.

I've lost a lot of sleep over this. One last unwitting soul being put into a new body. I made sure it was a man, roughly my age, unemployed, unmarried, I've done everything I could to vet the candidate. He should be arriving there tonight. I'm not saying it's OK that I've done this, only that it's happened a million times before and there's no way to stop it.

This is the only way.

I'm so sorry.

Shaun/Doug: The Bumpy Road Home

I said I'd be at the inn last weekend. That was the intention. In the end I had to put off the flight to Maine until Thursday.

I had to help Nia move out.

I wanted to keep things tied together. I wanted to keep everything in place until Doug could finally get his body back, but things don't work that way. People don't work that way. I couldn't ask Nia to put her emotions on hold for a month until her real husband returned. And no matter how much I wanted to, I couldn't bring her to Maine. It doesn't work that way, either.

Doug is actually livid about this situation. He's not fond of me for messing up his relationship. He's admitted it's the situation not my fault, and maybe nobody could have withstood the pressure I started off with, but it's hard not to use me as a scapegoat. I was the one who had the chance to save their marriage.

He's also not so fond of Nia right now. "That bitch wants to walk out on me? That's how much our vows mean? Fuck her." Wow, it's not hard to see how there was already some negativity built up.

I was tempted to stay. I could have made it work somehow. If Doug was going to react this harshly, he might as well not even go back to her. I like Nia enough that I feel like I could resolve things. I liked being Doug enough that I felt I could continue. It might've been easiest for everyone.

But that's not how life works. If Doug and Nia are going to break up, they're going to have to. And Doug's going to have to be the one signing the papers, it's the right thing. I have my own responsibilities. I have a responsibility to my friends, to go back to the Inn and reclaim my own life, and help them reclaim theirs. This situation might end with everyone being miserable, but it's honest.

So I stayed an extra few days as a gesture of goodwill. Helped her relocate her necessities to her brother's house. She's still simmering with rage that I prioritized a mysterious vacation to Maine over her, but I had an ace up my sleeve. I told her it was for Clara.

Nia doesn't love Clara. She sees her as a burden, and to be honest, I think Doug might agree, but there's something to be said for family loyalty. Nia knows Clara's had a rough few years. And based on what Zane's experienced in Clara's body, she has seen things have gotten worse. If I tell her I'm going as a gift to my sister, she understands. She doesn't love it, but she understands. She even gave me a kiss goodbye when I left her brother's place. And she left a lot of her stuff, which is encouraging.

I have mixed feelings about this. I wish I had kept a more up-to-date blog so you could have a better sense of the ups and downs of this past year. It's hard for me not to sympathize with Nia, but I also want to defend myself to her, so we fight. But I feel like, without this Inn thing between us, we could have had a strong relationship. But I'll never forget it wasn't my relationship to begin with.

We all want to put this in the past. None of us wants to consider the possibility that we won't get our correct bodies back, but I've heard of that happening. Frankly, I just want anything to get me out of this body, but you know, they say be careful what you wish for.

After all, this time last year, I wished I was married, and I got that wish.

I think it will work out. Anthony was very take-charge in arranging this. He's a planner. Meticulous. I trust him. But the fact that he hasn't arrived yet is still troubling...

Lisa/Eve: Getting back where we started

Yes, I'm back in Maine. No, I'm not back in my own body yet. What I understand about the Inn is that it only works when all the rooms are "filled." I guess that means that if enough people happened to be walking by at the wrong time, they could be counted, but we'll never know how it selects exactly when and how to start changing people.

All I know is that it hasn't happened yet. I've spent a lot of time just staring out the window. I barely want to leave this room. I just sit by the window watching rain fall.

Shaun and Anthony actually delayed in getting here. Shaun's been dealing with his marriage situation and just arrived yesterday. I don't know what Anthony's excuse is. Being that his current body and mine are sisters, you'd think we could communicate more, but he's always so secretive. I hope he makes it here by the end of the weekend.

It's hard to believe I've spent a year in this body, in this life. It hasn't been easier, but it's been a lot easier for me than any of my friends. Even SHaun really started to see some backlash by the end. I'll let him explain to you how that worked out, if he chooses. He's told me a slightly more detailed version of what he wrote here. It's hard to blame him, but he seems really hurt by it.

So for the past week or so, it's been me and Zane up here. I haven't seen much of him/her since last fall when the change rendered him practically catatonic... whether that was due to the depressive state of Clara's body, or his own substances disagreeing with it, I don't know.

It's weird how, as Clara, Zane is both "like" and "unlike" himself. I was thinking of him as this fragile flower, this object of pity, broken by the transformation, when the real Zane had a real resilience. I never saw anything affect him quite the way becoming Clara did last summer and I was worried about spending time with "her."

But it's Zane who has encouraged me to get out of the room the most. I've spent so much of the last year going places and doing things I didn't want to that I liked the idea of staying in and shutting down until I was myself again. It occurred to me that Zane has sort of the opposite: being Clara has kept him from doing things, from going places and enjoying life, because of self-consciousness, depression, and lately, lack of control. These past few days are the last he'll spend as a woman, with any luck. They might be the only ones he enjoys.

Whatever Zane's agreement with this Wes character, it doesn't seem like he's as okay with it as he wants people to believe. It doesn't seem like something an emotionally-healthy person would be able to put herself through, and at the risk of sounding patronizing, I know Zane, as Clara, is not that.

I'm worried that this experience might haunt all of us afterwards, but him most of all.

Anyway, I wrote this because I realized none of us had checked in on the blog. Still waiting on the last of our group. Anthony, wherever you are, get here quick.

Tori: Keeping happy

I'm comfortable. I could complain a bit about my financial state or the occasional rocky period in my relationship. I vented a bit in my last post about how Alex didn't want to move in together yet and this somehow tied together with my mind which was all messed up with baby-crazies.

I love him because he likes me. I don't want to be "a girl" about this and start looking for things to go wrong, because we're not getting married (honestly, the stress of having a wedding just sounds awful to me. Sara just put hers off until fall.) At this point, if I'm happy, all I need to do is keep him happy, so if this is all he wants, I can handle it.

It's been some work. I've never been with someone this much for this long. Never shared so much, never made them this big a part of my life. Less and less, that one thing he doesn't know about me seems like a big deal, but it won't go away completely. Some nights we'll be in bed and I'll think "If only a woman loved me this much when I was a guy..." and it's hard to imagine how, after all this time, I'm so comfortable and yet still clinging to past regrets. I would have loved it then, but what I have now is superb so I don't know why I'm complaining.

Every so often, Alex will ask me if there's something bothering me. I try to brush it off and tell him things are fine. And they mostly are: I'm happy with my body. I have a guy to wrap his arms around me, and even if we don't live together, he's still somehow usually here to watch me try on four different outfits before going out. I swear after three years I'm still not an ace at dressing myself in a hurry, but most girls aren't even after a full lifetime. Undressing, on the other hand, I can do.

Luckily, I don't have to spend too much time picking an outfit in the morning. Black pants. White polo shirt. Nametag. I'm the girl who sells cell phones in the mall. I'm trying to take a little pride in this position, because even if it's not corporate, it's still tech-related and appeals to my interests and skill set, but I have no delusions about why I was hired. I'm the eye candy. Given a chance, most guys would rather talk to a pretty girl about their cell phone plan than anyone else working there (not to say some of my male co-workers aren't attractive, but I doubt most of the male customers care.) But it's embarrassing sometimes, because my male co-workers have this perception of me having been hired for my looks and not knowing anything about phones. And there's a lot to keep track of, with features and plans, that sometimes when I stumble or need to be helped out, it feeds their perception of me as "dumb hot (blonde!!) chick." Eye candy.

I've worked retail as Tori before, but that was in a garment shop. The only people I ever talked to were women. I wasn't the hottest one there, nor the least knowledgeable since when I became a girl I was obsessed with finding out the differences in types of fashion.

When a guy screws up around here, it's no big deal. They just laugh it off. But because I'm fighting my reputation, it's really stressful, especially because I haven't had a lot of time to get good at it yet, only working two or three shifts a week. To say nothing of male customers admiring my chest while I'm trying to explain the savings of a 3-year smart phone contract to them.

Sorry for the rambling post, anyway. Sometimes I worry about leaving off on a post like my last one, where I seem like some crazy girl, and I wanted to reassure you guys that things are actually going good. Routine with the BF, stress at the job, but good.

Ellie: What I know

Now that the school year is winding down, I can finally de-stress and pay a little attention to this blog. It's always in the back of my head, because from a certain angle thinking about the Inn and my life (and Ellie's and Emily's and everybody else) is way more important than whether I got my homework done. But in the moment, it's easy to get caught up in the day to day facts of being this girl at this point in her life (and mine.)

I never went to high school. I graduated finished the eighth grade, took a vacation with my dad, and woke up one morning in a "real world" where I was a grown woman. It was a mixed blessing because every teenager craves freedom, but hates responsibility. And I didn't have the proper amount of time to grow into myself. Sometimes I hear about people "my age" (whatever age that is) who lost their parents or have had to be self-sufficient for any reason, and I want to tell them I know exactly how they feel, but as Ellie, I'm not supposed to. In my life, this high school chunk was the missing piece of my life experience. It may seem like hell to a lot of the people here, but it works, when you're 16 or 17 to ease you into life on your own. Knowing the alternative, which I lived, I would have gladly gone through this from the beginning.

Which is why I kind of gravitated toward Callahan, when I started learning more about him. It started out as a curiosity, when Iris first mentioned it. A sort of reminder that I'm still a girl in a school half-full of boys, who may want to look t me or get to know me. And even though I didn't consider myself available, that didn't mean I couldn't get lonely. I've spent the bulk of my "adult" life with members of the opposite sex, whichever sex that happened to be. As Ellie I've been both "alone at last" and lonely.

I got myself into situations where I could talk to him. Saying "Hi" in the hallway, later asking about his life. It helped to mend fences between me and Emily. I think she always thought I was bitter because she started flirting and dating almost from the get-go, and maybe I had lingering feelings. I don't know what to say about any of that, but suddenly we related a lot better. If there's anything that brings teenage girls together, it's a crush.

This wasn't a crush, but I maybe tried to make it one. I thought if I was going to like any of the guys at school it would probably be him, and the more I got to know him, the more I liked him. But there's a limit on that. There's nothing special about him. He's not overly funny or smart, but he's not a bad guy. I just find him less annoying than the other boys around here.

And I thought for a little while that was good enough. It was a high school relationship, not some deep romance. If I wanted to hang around with a guy, I could text him and see if he wanted to watch a movie or something. He got the message pretty quickly and we're set to go to Prom together this weekend.

Except I can't help but feel wrong about this. This is my first prom ever, I've got this nice dress, and my date is just some guy "I can put up with." I don't know what he's expecting afterward but even though I've done plenty with worse guys, I can't help but feel like going through with "prom night stuff" would be too wrong, but leading him on, more than I already have, would feel even worse. This situation is very new to me.

My best friend, Iris, is going to be there too, without a date. I kind of goaded her into it because I agreed to go and didn't want to "just" be with him and Emily, I wanted someone I really like there. I also wanted her to have fun, because, aside from going to the Inn you're only young once and I don't like seeing her waste it.

What I've learned is that I'm still going to be here next year. My "father" made the decision that since we don't know what happened to the real Ellie, Emily and Mr. McClay, it would be a bad idea to return to the inn especially since we don't have "real" bodies to return to. This is something that still keeps me up nights sometimes. I'm not much of an investigator. I had some leads back in the fall but the trail went cold and... well, I got distracted. It's not easy leading a double life. I'll talk more about it, hopefully, when I get some time this summer.

Shaun/Doug: Cruise Control

From the outset of this whole "transformation" thing, I felt like a lucky duck. It was easy for me to focus on how much more simple my life was going to be as Doug than, say, Zane's as Clara. Every so often I talk to "her" to lend my support, but it usually ends badly. Since this thing with Wes began, "she" hasn't even been returning my calls. And while I'd love to spend a lot of time worrying about my friend's status, the truth is I have a lot of problems of my own.

See, when you have a relationship, especially one based on a shaky foundation (schedules not lining up, also not having any of this man's memories) it's not good to be on autopilot. If you're in a comfortable place and you know it, it can feel like you can just cruise, but if that's not the case, just eking by lets the cracks that already exist get worse.

I guess Doug had a good reason for hiding this from me, and maybe he didn't even see it this way, but there were definitely cracks in his and Nia's marriage. As "good" as I tried to be, as much as I was along for the ride, the fact that my heart wasn't in it has been obvious to her for a long time.

Which feels bad, because since coming here, I've grown to really care about her. When I say "I love you," it's easy to smile because she's really fun to be around. And after the failure of my engagement, I really wanted this relationship to last.

But I wasn't in the right place to dive in. I took advantage of the fact that we weren't always home at the same time. Instead of making time to see her, I maintained that light schedule of "couplehood." When I began to suspect I really might love her, I kept her at arm's length because I know she doesn't love me back, she loves Doug. I didn't want to get hurt. And I got hurt anyway. In the last few weeks I've had to face the facts that I have handled this situation very badly.

I've been stealing away in my spare moments to see Lisa. Since her college term ended last month, she's been around here more, and bored, so when I can I grab some beers and take her for a drive. We talk, about old times, about our current lives... probably the main reason I don't blog to you guys much is because I have her to talk to.

Well, I guess my little outings were not unnoticed, because Nia was waiting up for me. And she had the one question that you don't want to be asked in a marriage, if you don't have a good answer:

"Where have you been?"

I stammered a response, "I, uh, went for a drive." Not terrible. There's a lot of places to drive to around here. "I thought you were working?"

Bad. So bad. Okay, it's believable that I would go for a drive if she was working, but she noticed I was keeping track of her whereabouts and not in a... good way.

"I switched shifts. Who were you with?"

"Nobody," I said.

"I don't believe you."

"I go for drives sometimes when you're not around."

"Is this a joke? Who are you?"

For a second there - just a second - I thought she actually knew I wasn't her husband. But she uses that phrase as a variation on "Who do you think you are?"

She continued, "You should sit down."

I did.

She leaned in and said how much she had noticed my behavior lately. I forget things about our past. Sometimes I don't even respond to my own name. I never seem to want to be around the house with her.

That last one... it's not that I try to get away from her. I like her a lot, but I guess, early on, I caught on to the idea that manipulating my schedule so that I spent less time with her - working on days she had off, working mornings when she worked at night - would lessen the burden on me to pretend to be in a marriage with her.

It was also for my own good. Guys, last summer, when I got this body, I was in no place to be told "You're going to be married to someone right now." I just had my engagement broken off, I was bitter, I was afraid, I was vulnerable. And when I met Nia, and everything seemed so perfect, because this so-called relationship was all set up for me, I... felt things that I had no business feeling. It took a great deal of self-awareness to remember this is not my marriage, this is not my woman, she doesn't love me even if she thinks she does, I have no right to feel entitled to her.

And as a result, I may have gone too far the other way.

"I don't feel comfortable around you anymore," she told me. "You keep too many secrets, you're too distant. You disappear on nights like this, don't think I haven't noticed."

She said, "I know you've got this trip planned again, with your sister and her friends. I don't know why you didn't even ask me to come along. I'd like to think that if you're having an affair you wouldn't be so goddamned stupid about it."

"I'm not having an affair," I told her.

"Don't talk. If you cared about me you wouldn't be going on a trip without me. If you go, I'm not sure I can keep going in this relationship."

That hurt. I thought I was doing better. I thought I had some leeway, but that's not what happens in relationships. You have a partner, and your partner needs to trust you.

My mind raced. If I go without her, I risk destroying the relationship that's been left in my care, that I really wanted to return to the real Doug intact. If I stay then the relationship is safe... but with me in it, stealing another man's happiness. Then I could get comfortable. I could maybe make her love me.

Then I thought about somehow bringing her along. I don't know how that would work, what strange new body she might get. I'd even accept a body that wasn't my own because then she would fully understand what we've been going through for the past year, forgive the real Doug, even if it meant revealing my identity and probably making her hate me forever.

But that's not an option. I could never put another person, especially someone I care about, in this situation. There has to be another way.

Next Saturday, I plan to be in Maine. I have no idea what happens before or after that.

Greg/Alexis: On the prowl

One of the things I've liked best about living in Burlington is that it has a small town feel with a big city culture. Meaning you get all the progressive ideas of an urban area without all the crowds. It makes working, shopping, and overall living very enjoyable. One thing that's more difficult is dating, especially when youre gay.

There used to be an awful show on Showtime called "The L Word", which was about a bunch of Lesbians in Southern California who really didn't do much besides be gay. I tried watching it on DVD for pointers when I first became Alex, but couldn't get through the first season, thats how annoying the characters were. Anyway, one of the lesbians on that show had a bulletin board with the names of all the gay women she knew and had them connected together in a web by string if they had slept together. Besides being a little psychotic, it's actually a pretty accurate way of representing local gay communities. When you go from having a dating pool of about 45% of people to a dating pool of about 5% of people, especially in a town of less than 40,000, theres bound to be some overlap. That means of all the gay women in Burlington almost all of them either know me, know Sharon, know Annabelle, or know someone who knows us. Its like 3 degrees of separation and it makes it difficult to date when someone can look up on facebook and see that youre married.

Perhaps I should rewind a bit and explain why I was out looking for women. After my conversation with Malinda on Mother's Day I realized that I wasn't just sad about having to break things off with Annabelle, I was sad at the idea of having to be alone again. I've been mostly single for the past three years after being in a very long relationship and I dont really enjoy it. Annabelle gave me someone to go out with and yes, have sex with regularly and I didn't want to be banned from doing that. For the time being, this is my body and as long as I dont do anything that would screw up any friendships or relationships of the real Alex I figure I'm free to date who I want. Sadly dating someone in Burlington who wouldn't spread it around that I'm "cheating" on Sharon is quite difficult.

So this past Saturday night I got in my car and drove about 45 minutes to Montpelier, which despite being smaller than Burlington is still big enough to have a gay bar.

I had never been to a gay bar, I wasn't expecting it to be all bubbles and techno but I did prepare myself for it too be a little different. I vowed to go in with an open mind but found out that I wasn't just ill prepared to pick up women in a gay bar, I was ill prepared to pick up women in ANY bar.

What can I say, I was rusty. And the worst part about being rusty is you dont even know that you are. The last time I went looking for women it wasn't in a bar. I was too young to go to bars; that's how long Amber and I were together before thing's got derailed. So I tried to awkwardly pick up women with a knowledge of "how to pick up lesbians" and "how to meet girls in bars" that was pieced together from various movies.

At first I just sat at the bar, scoping people out. It's weird because only about half of the women there were lesbians, the other half were straight women who came there with their friends to avoid being hit on by guys. The myth that girls can just go to the bar and drink for free because people will buy them for you is incorrect or didn't apply in my case because there was very little action.

Another thing I had forgotten after being out of the dating pool for so long? Rejection. Yeah, it hurts. Not only does it take massive amounts of courage to walk up to a stranger and ask to buy them a drink, its very difficult to look cool or not take it personally when they turn you down.

Of course once they do talk to you you have to very subtly convince them that you are awesome and worthy of seeing again outside of a bar. Which is difficult because who I am is a mix of at least two different people so selling that to someone is hard to do in a smooth manner. I did manage to talk to this one woman, Haley, for about 15 minutes. She was cool, worked for the state government, liked video games and sports, she and Alex would have a lot in common. But when it came time to ask for her number, I totally botched it and made it sound like I was just trying to hook up with her, which in a way I kinda was. So despite not having a penis since 2009, I blew it by thinking with my dick.

So, feeling down on myself I went to Denny's and had coffee till I was sober enough to drive back to Burlington. When I got back I just wanted to lie back and have a nice long sleep but I was still feeling a little frisky.

When I got up to the master bedroom, Malinda had already claimed it. She was taking a bubble bath when I called to her telling her I needed my toothbrush.

"C'mon in and get it, I'm not standing up"

So I walked in and, still a gentleman on the inside, shielded my eyes from the bath while I gathered my stuff.

"I didn't think you'd be home tonight, that you'd be in some hotel room" She teased

"Yeah it turns out I have no game" I said self deprecatingly "Something I'm gonna need to work on"

I grabbed my stuff and very quietly reached for the bottom dresser drawer for what I really wanted. Over the past few months through careful experimentation I've become quite familiar with Alex and Sharon's extensive and exotic collection of sex toys. I couldnt find their Hitachi Magic Wand, which is mind blowing, and hoped I didn't leave it out somewhere. I grabbed the Rabbit and headed downstairs to hop myself to sleep.

when I woke up fully refreshed my head was clearer and I've decided that the bar scene isn't for me. So for the next few months of my adventure I'm going to try online dating for companionship.

I'll keep you posted

-Greg/Alexis

Tori: Still looking

Both for some work, and now for a bit of peace of mind.

I don't like the idea that women are inherently more emotional than men. I was a really moody guy, but society didn't encourage me to show it. Since I've been a woman, I've cried plenty, but over things that I would've liked to feel okay crying about as a man. Since I am a woman, though, I now know there are certain things that set me off more than they would have as a man.

Last weekend, Mom and I ventured out to New Jersey for Jana's baby shower. Some of Jana's female friends, co-workers and relatives were there. The only one I had met before was Jana's mother, who I remembered from the wedding talking about how she always wanted a sister for Jana, a comment that baffled me then and unnerves me now. Jana has four brothers, all older, and her mother asked if I was single and thankfully the answer is no.

It was a nice event, I mingled some, but inevitably the large topic of conversation is babies. Up until now I've just thought of it as "Oh, I get to be Aunt Tori now, that's really cool." But suddenly I started thinking of it as "Someone I know is about to be a mom. Someone's gong to call her mom. And someday... it might happen to me."

I never thought about kids when I was Cliff. I spent all those years dating a woman who wouldn't let me see her naked. We talked about getting married, but it was always somehow in the future, and I was frankly afraid of proposing, for reasons that turned out to be very appropriate. I thought being a dad might be cool but it never really seemed to be a pressing question.

And the same has been true of my life as Tori. Sometimes I make the joke, when I get my period, "Another month of beating the odds" (not really since we're really good with birth control.) As serious as Alex and I are, I have definitely eased off the commitment gas pedal, because I am not "that girl." Maybe we'll get married, and I guess if we do, kids are an option. No stress. Take it easy.

But then I got to this party and talked to some of these women. Some were young, and were looking forward to getting pregnant in the near future. Some were older and had kids, and shared their stories. And then some of them... these older women who never had kids, who had this air of disappointment about them, because of it. Women who got to their Fifties, never married, and then gave up.

I'm not saying I think that'll be me. I'm not saying I'm worried about never having kids if I want them. I'm saying suddenly I'm aware of the pressure women put on themselves... how many women define themselves by reproducing! It's insane. And guys just don't. Motherhood is seen by a lot of women as this sacred, important duty, and fatherhood is just something that happens. I worry about other women thinking negatively of me if I choose not to... and I worry about if I somehow can't. I don't know. It was all very confusing.

Later, I wanted to talk to Alex about it, but I couldn't outright have a conversation about wanting kids. I didn't want to scare him or anything. I didn't even want to talk about that. I just wanted some kind of reassurance.

Instead, when I got home, I went over to his place and I asked if he had given any more thought to living together. I felt like maybe I could that as a way of reassuring myself about the future.

"I have," he said. "I just don't see the rush. We're good the way we are, aren't we? We don't need to make it a big financial thing. You're a smart, independent woman. You don't need to depend on me."

I had absolutely no idea what he was going on about, whether it was my independence or his that he was really talking about. I spent all day imagining what it would be like to grow a person inside me, and then had to realize that my long term boyfriend doesn't think much of co-habitation.

I had a good cry that night.

The next day, I had a couple of job interviews. Sure, I'm in emotional turmoil, but I had to look good for my interviews. Straighten your hair, put on some eyeliner, perk up your boobs and wear some heels that make your butt look good: chances are, even if the interviewer isn't a man, they'll appreciate the effort.

Since none of the corporate jobs I envisioned are really hiring, I widened my search to the retail sector. I need to pay bills, even if it's bagging groceries. Fortunately, I won't be doing that. I got a job selling phones at the mall. I made it a point to do as much research as I could before I applied, and I think the owner (a man) liked the idea of getting some eye candy who could actually sell the phones. I start tomorrow, but I'm only booked for about 12 hours a week for the probation period, which means I'm still not covering everything.

Still... it'll keep my head above water for a bit longer.

Greg/Alexis: Girl Talk

So I've been kind of depressed this past week, not like Zane is depressed where Clara's body is chemically imbalanced, but sad to the point of not wanting to do anything else but stay in bed and watch TV. I mean, I go to work and everything because I dont want to get fired with 3 months left here and having to figure out how to eat. Fortunately my job allows me to browse reddit all day and people barely noticed I wasn't in a good mood.

I guess its easy not to notice your bosses mood if they barely talk to you during the day, but at home it was a different story. Malinda had been extra nice to me, at least by comparison. There wasnt any coldness and she let me sleep in the master bedroom the whole week. She had read about my forced break up and apparently decided to let me be.

At least until Sunday, when I had just spent most of the weekend in bed eating Pringles and watching VH1 when Malinda came in, sat on top of the covers next to me, and held up a Pringles can to shake the dust out of it.

"Careful with these, you dont want to get that body fat before you give it back"

"I'm more than a few Pringles away from being considered 'fat'" I grumbled

"You'd think so, but women's bodies gain wait differently" she said trying to sound helpful

"I've been a woman for 3 years. Various types of women. This body is by far the most efficient" I said sounding a little proud

"Maybe" she began "But isnt that because you always go to the gym. Don't you normally go to the gym on Sunday's?"

"I did" I said sadly. "With Annabelle"

"Ah, she got the gym in the breakup" she said understandingly "Do you wanna talk about it?"

"Are you just gonna make snide remarks about gay people?" I asked a little meanly

She hung her head a little bit "No, I promise"

So what started with me just talking about all the things I'd have to change to avoid Annabelle evolved into a rant about the difficulties of finding love when your doomed to be living someone elses life. The whole time she was really supportive and understanding.

"I feel really bad for you." she sympathized "Three years away from your friends and family. I've been away from mine for 9 months and I miss them like crazy."

It was then that we both realized that it was Mother's day. So we called our respective body's mothers and told them that we loved them and listened to updates on family members we've never met and gave fake updates on how our lives were going before hanging up and still feeling sad.

"I've got an idea" Malinda said picking up my laptop

She went to a flower delivery website and typed in the Address for a Grace Cunningham of Highland Park Texas.

"Your Mom?" I guessed

"Yep. Im sending her anonymous flowers with a card saying "you are loved" now give me your credit card and I'll do the same.

This was a surprisingly sweet idea so I didnt mind that the bouquets cost about 100 dollars each for rush delivery on Mother's Day, since Ellen Schmidt of Winnetka, Illinois got flowers from her loving son, even if she didn't know they were from him and she thinks he's off being a jerk. Also, it made me feel a whole lot better. Good enough to shower and go downstairs and drink on the patio with Malinda.

"I feel kinda of bad for them" she said referring to the real Sharon and Alex "If we hadn't taken their lives they'd be well on their way to being mom's right now"

"Yeah, and that body would be the one getting fat" I teased.

"No thank you" she said sucking her belly in "Lesbian or not, I'm not having kids for a few more years. What about you, do you want kids?"

I thought about it for a moment "I don't know if I get a say in that. I suppose I could be in the body of a pregnant woman this fall. Besides, technically I had a kid last year. He was like 22 or something. He never called. Not even on Mother's day"

"Well that life is behind you" she said raising her glass "Here's to a better one next year.

We chatted for a little while longer, my spirits lifted and at the end of the night I thanked her for being so nice.

"No problem" she said "Last thing we need is for you to get depressed, lose your job, and we have to make a living selling stuff that I paint.

"We could sell some of the paintings that are already down there"

"Mabye" she said "But I doubt theres much of a market for paintings of you"

"What?" I asked

"Well not you, Alex. There's tons of them down there. She's Sharon's inspiration I guess. Even a few naked ones" she giggled

"Bullshit"

"Nuh-Uh,I'll show you"

She led me to the studio which we've been using for storage mostly and started going through a crate of finished canvasses. She finally found the one she was looking for and held it up.

I instantly burst into laughter. I mean, that's really the only thing you can do when you see yourself painted naked, right? In reality it was a pretty good painting, very good attention to detail and pretty flattering. You can tell Sharon intended to show Alex as she saw her.

"My boobs are bigger than that" I joked

"So's your butt" Malinda taunted

In put my hands on it, knowing she was a little right.

"Aww, dont feel bad, I was just joking" she said trying to salvage my body image issues.

We laughed it off and headed back upstairs and talked a little while longer. Before we went to bed she casually said "There are other gyms you know, if you need someone to go with we can go together"

"I'd like that" I said smiling. "Are we friends again?"

"For now" she said with a smile "Who knows, you might even pick up another girlfriend"

I think she was teasing me with that last part but the fact that there wasn't the usual homophobia attached makes me think she's mellowed out a bit. And if not its only a few more months.

-Greg

Zane Clara: Bad at it.

Every time for the last month, when I try to write in this stupid blog, I get a headache. Whenever I think too hard about what's going on it just fucks me up and I can't keep typing. I want to talk about what I've done and why I'm doing it and why it feels good, but I just can't. You guys kinda know me a bit, right? I'm not that smart. I can't deal with this. But even idiots like me need to live their lives, need to make choices.

I started sleeping with Wes in March. I made that decision a long time ago. Honestly, the first time I met him I thought "If I was into guys I'd like this dude." Then I thought "Hey I guess I kind of am into guys." And then he told me he'd help me out with some money if I just let him... well...

He said he was just doing me a favour, that we were getting really close and he wanted to use his money to help me, but we know what the real deal was. He wanted to control me. All those nice dinners (which I didn't eat because I hardly never eat) and wine and champagne, all those dresses he bought me which I only wear for him. Those long looks... and I knew if I didn't let him in, the money, Clara's medicine, and MY TRIP could be gone.

No, I couldn't handle it at first. It was too real. I drank, and it reacted bad with my drugs. Just talking about that with him... admitting to him I was a fucked up person and that he should probably find someone else... was so hard, because I don't remember the last time I had that kind of conversation. But he stuck with me and it was worth it.

I remember lowering myself onto his cock for the first time like I was slipping into a hot tub. It was good, and not... and it takes a while to go from bad too good, and then it gets great, and then... it stops.

You guys... he is not good at sex.

I've fucked him, I don't know, three times a week for a month and a half. And I'm pretty sure he's just bad at it. At first I thought it was because I wasn't used to it. I didn't know how I was supposed to feel about having this thing inside me because I won't even use tampons or a dildo when I play with myself. I tried to get into it, to bounce extra hard when I was on top, but he just kept drilling like a fucking jackhammer when all I wanted was something... I dunno, softer, more delicate. I'm starting to "get" women, which is weird since I've been one for so long now. He never does foreplay, never eats me out, he can hardly even last, he always wants to come on my chest.

I thought maybe it was just this body... that after all the anti-depressants and alcohol and just generally feeling like shit, maybe Clara was broken down there, but when I finally got the guts to really get "in there" myself, I found that, yeah, oh wow, everything felt good. Some nights I can feel myself just starting to get into it, but then he finishes.

I don't want to talk about some of the other stuff I've had to do for him, specifically, but it basically amounts to: he picks me up, we talk and pretend like we're going out, maybe share a meal or a coffee, find ourselves back at his place, and start going at it. I thought it was going to be really passionate, with kissing and cuddling and stuff... and I dunno why I'm disappointed it's not like that, but it seems very mechanical. Then when my boredom starts to show, I have to start pretending like I'm really into it, making all the moaning noises I would want to hear if I was the guy, so he doesn't realize how badly it's going and cancel our deal.

I also feel like everyone in the house can tell. They think I'm a slut. Why is it so stressful doing something I thought I was supposed to like? I never asked to be a girl, never wanted to look at a guy that way, but I do, and I have this guy who obviously likes doing it with me, why is it so lame? Now I realize why chicks don't wanna bang every guy they meet... ugh.

I just need to hang in there another month or so.

Greg/Alexis: Breaking Up and Breaking Off

In Canada I learned some valuable lessons, just not the ones I had hoped to learn. I arrived with the hope of becoming an expert at living somebody elses life only to leave with the warning that if you're not careful the inn could turn you into somebody who doesn't care at all. Now I'm left trying to figure out the balance on my own. One thing I did learn and decide on probably before even going up there was clear: I was going to have to end my affair with Annabelle.

Yesterday I told her to meet me for coffee at Starbucks, which is something we never do. Normally we go out of drinks and neither of us goes to Starbucks ever. I did this because if there was a great big scene I didn't want to be known as "the girl who fought her girlfriend really loudly" at a place I frequent.

She was there first, sitting at a table sipping on some frozen coffee thing. When she saw me she held it up.

"This is terrible. Why did you want to meet at this place again? she asked

"Change of pace" I said quickly sitting down

"Whatever" she said "You arent going to believe what happened at the gym while you were in Canada--" she began

"We need to talk" I interrupted, feeling nervous and awkward. My abruptness made her face change, alerting her that something was up.

"Go ahead" she said nervously

"We need to stop....doing what we've been doing. Sleeping together. Sharon and I are going to try to patch things up" I figured that was true on several levels and a great rationale.

"She's gonna treat you like garbage again. You'll just fight more. You two have really grown apart lately" she told me as if I should know already.

"I shouldn't have cheated on her" I began "When I should have been working on my marriage I stepped out of it and I shouldn't have involved you. It just happened because we were such close friends. You really meant a lot to me these past few--"

"Spare me" she said in a voice that was both angry and sad "It was just sex to you. She was holding out on you and you got hornier and hornier, I could tell. I knew where it was going all I had to do was wait for you to say yes."

I hung my head. That was a little surprising. She was pretty intuitive. "I'm sorry I used you" not even bothering to defend my actions anymore, just wanting the moment to be over.

She sighed and shook her head "It's college all over again"

That remark confused me, and I called the real Alexis today to tell her what happened and got the back story. Apparently Alexis and Annabelle were floormates their freshmen year in college. They met on the first day and within a week came out to each other. This was 10 years ago or so when it wasn't as cool to be gay as it was back then, so they went to a lot of student organizations together and relied upon each other for support. Apparently Annabelle developed a crush on Alexis.

Alex always knew but didn't love her like that so they just stayed friends. Eventually Alexis and Sharon became friends and a couple months later Sharon came out of the closet and they lived happily ever after and Annabelle in the friend zone.

Until this year, when her old crush has marital troubles and looks to her for friendship and advice and eventually more. Getting her hopes up only to pull the rug out a few months later. So yeah, I messed up this woman's life.

I stood up and paid for her coffee. "Its probably best if we didn't hang out for awhile" I said quietly and she agreed. It wasn't what I wanted, but the level of awkward between the two of them and the healing required is going to be longer term than I'm able to do since I'm leaving Burlington in August. The real Alexis can start the road to friendship again when they're ready.

I left the Starbucks thinking it went well, but no sooner had I pulled down the street in the Ranger Rover than I started to tear up. I tried to keep my emotions in check while driving but when I got home Malinda wasn't there which was good because I ran up to the bedroom, buried my face in the pillow and started sobbing.

I was the one who had messed things up, so what right did I have to feel so bad? This wasn't even the first time I have broken off a relationship in another person's life, I did it last year when I let my friend with benefit down easy. This somehow felt different. It wasn't just sex to me. Annabelle was a good friend to me and my my transition into this life easier. We started having sex not because I was so horny, but because we were close enough to be intimate with each other.

In another life, I could see Annabelle and I together. Of course not my old life, I'd have to be a lesbian in that life too, just not married to another woman. It was like getting a glimpse of finding out what the life would have been like before having to give it up not because of my relationship with her, but because of my body's relationship with someone else, hurting us both in the process.

I cried a little at work today but I'm slowly getting over it. Is this going to be a yearly occurrence? Am I going to get attached to someone only to have to say good bye? Is that why Fletcher is such a douche, becuase he's spent a few decades not being able to connect with somebody long term?

As usual with the Inn, ever answer brings three more questions

-Greg

Greg/Alexis: Traveling (wo)Man

I'm back in Vermont now, so if anyone is worried that I ran away, I didn't. Tori was confused by the end of my lest post and sent me a frantic email. I regret ending the last post the way I did but I was tired and the Hotel Wi-Fi is spotty.



I left Bangor that morning and drove east over the border to Fredericton, New Brunswick. It's a good thing I grabbed Alex's passport, because you need one to go to Canada these days. (Little FYI for all of you out there, the law changed a few years back).



Fredericton is a nice city, not huge and pretty. But I wasn't there for sightseeing, I was there to speak to Tanya Kearns, or at least the person who appeared to be Tanya Kearns, who's real name is Fletcher.



Fletcher, if you havent been paying close attention, is a Traveler, someone who goes to the inn over and over again to get a new body. Which is what I've become by default. He met Alia "Sam/Max/Ellie" back in 2010, when he was part of an old married couple. Alia's post mentioning him and the concept of "traveling" is what convinced me to break out of my depression and start blogging again.


Anyway, Tanya was the sister of Melanie, who was the girlfriend of Max. This summer a guy named Roger had his old body stolen and Fletcher worked it so he wound up in Max's and in the process, he wound up in Tanya's. Everyone got that? Good. It's confusing as hell so if you have to re read it, go ahead.


Anyway, I had wriggled Tanya's contact info out of "Ellie" and had her meet me in the bar of the hotel I was staying at. I had sent her a pic on her phone so she'd know how to find me.


I was on my second drink when a girl started waving at me from across the bar. She was just as described on the blog, I think. Brunette with blonde streaks, with a body type that could be described as "fluffy." I mean, after spending a year as Dee, I'm hesitant to call ANY other woman fat, but this girl was muffintopping - and I guess, to her credit, she wasn't ashamed of it. She was dressed in a way that didn't suggest "a former man embarrassed of his female body," with a mini-skirt halfway up her thigh (in chilly Canadian weather!) and spaghetti strap top - which did not conceal her pink bra; a push-up number. She waved me over to a booth once we were certain we knew each other.


"Alexis?" she asked, and then said "Or is it 'Alexis'" this time with finger-quotes.


"It's more like the second one," I told her, "But you don't have to do the fingers. I just won't be Alexis much
longer."


She looked me up and down. I was wearing khaki slacks and a green blouse. "So you're a lesbian, right? I can tell from the hair."


I was a bit put off by the small talk, but I admitted "Yeah, after a few years of really girly bodies, it was nice to do something more comfortable."


She said, "Dyke style. I like it." I gritted my teeth instead of objecting out loud. She continued.


"Well I'd say you seem a bit uptight but I've read your recent activities and it doesn't seem like you need to loosen up any more than you already did... if you know what I mean. Gotta say, it's true, nobody knows a woman's body like another woman. I bet you really liked that."


"Yeah," I said, squirming in my seat. Talking on the blog is one thing, but being grilled about my sex life in person really made me uncomfortable. "Sounds like you know something about that."


She smiled that really evil smile of hers. Based on descriptions of her previous bodies, it must be the person inside, not the girl herself. "I'm an adventurous type," she said, sipping her beer. "And I've had a lot of opportunities, since I've been in a lot of bodies."


"How many?"


"That's a trade secret." She didn't seem to want to talk too much about her past. "But if you think it's shocking to be a lesbo, you should try being a gay dude. Especially one that's married to a chick and doesn't even tell you he likes dudes." She paused. "So what can I do for you?"


"I just want advice. You go back to the inn all the time... how do you manage these peoples' lives without totally destroying them?"


"Oh honey," she said in a patronizing tone, placing her hand on my shoulder, "There's your first mistake. Worrying about something like destroying a person's life."


"You mean you just do as you please?"


"I do what's best. I have the body. If I'm in a situation where I want something, I take it, and I don't think twice."


"But don't you worry about giving these people their lives back? Making it easy, so they can pick up where they left off?"


"I don't take requests, babe. I do what I think is right, but right for me. I don't like being controlled."


"Must be nice for you to be able to think that way," I said bitterly, "Was your old life ever wrecked?"


She got this faraway look in her eyes, like something really spooky was going through her mind, and she said quietly, "My old, old, old first life? The person I started out as? One day I got the call that that person had to make a choice, a choice I knew I couldn't have made, and when that decision was final, I knew there was no going back. I didn't blame him for what he had to do, it just showed me that you can really only move forward."


"I didn't have to ruin Alex's life, though. I didn't need to see Annabelle."


"If you're trying to keep everything in mint condition, then you fucked up the minute you stepped into Alexis' shoes. The minute you met Annabelle, the minute you planted the idea in her head that Alexis was an option for her, it was done. Because that probably wouldn't have happened to the real Alexis, but it did. It's not your fault, it’s hers for liking you."


"Hey," I started to get really mad, "I'm not blaming Annabelle for this!"


"Well you're not the one to blame either, hon. It's not natural to deny yourself happiness, to suffer so someone else can maintain their stupid comfort zone. You don't last as long in life as I have by playing it safe. You keep going back long enough, you realize some things can't be helped. Don't be a hero, girl."


I said quietly, into my drink, "I don't think I want to be like you."


She smiled. Instead of taking offense, I think she understood. "Your loss."


I sighed and changed the subject. "I just hope my next body is something easy. Like a regular boring married guy."


"Anything's possible," she shrugged, taking another drink, "But with your shitty-ass luck, you'll end up a 5-year-old girl with parents who wanna keep you from going back."


"Oh God, that sounds like a nightmare!"


She smiled "Happened to a buddy of mine. Just turned 12, poor kid." She gave me advice on what to do if something extreme happens: if I end up as a kid, or old. She also said not to worry if I didn't go back every year. "I'm not saying get too comfortable, but some bodies are worth keeping a while. I think I'm gonna stay here this summer."


I didn't say anything but I must have had a disbelieving face on. "Oh don't be such a bitch. It's got a few more pounds and more miles on the odometer than a body this age should, but some of the boys love it, and it's lower maintenance than some skinny bitch who only eats lettuce."


I thanked her for her time, and told her I was going to go to the ladies' room, then head back to my hotel. When I got out of the stall, she was waiting for me by the sink.


"Now hold up," she said. "You're telling me you came all this way, and all you wanted was to talk?"


"Yeah, pretty much."


"I'm insulted," she said mockingly. "With all your lady-troubles, you'd pass up a shot at some no-consequences girl on girl? I bet you eat pussy like a champ now, and don't even pretend like you haven't been ogling my tits all night."


"Don't flatter yourself. Between Annabelle, Malinda, and myself, you've got the fourth best set of tits I've seen lately. I never thought I'd say this, but I have enough women on my case nowadays. Besides, aren't you straight, not gay?"


She smiled that evil grin again, "I don't know what those words mean anymore."


As we parted at the exit, she turned to me and said "Last piece of advice before you go: Don't be too trusting. The inn makes it really easy to lie, even to other people that go. I'm one of the good ones, but there's others, people that really know how to fuck a person over."


That was something I had never considered before, and stuck with me the whole way home. I thanked her for that, and laughed to myself about her being one of the "good ones." She shook my hand and went back inside, saying "Well, time to go get laid." Charming.




Back in the hotel room I thought about what she had said. I didnt want to become some disaffected hedonist who did whatever felt good with someone elses life, but I also didn't like the idea of being constrained by every little rule they had. I resolved to find a happy medium and be a better Traveler than Fletcher, even if that meant breaking things off with Annabelle and continuing my marriage illusion to Malinda.


I took the long way home and paid for it, the weather was a bitch in the northeast last weekend and it took me 3 days to get back to Burlington.


When I got back to the condo I put my luggage at the door and went upstairs to collapse on the bed. Malinda was in the master bedroom already and when she sighed and her face was almost reassured "You're back" she whispered


"Yep" I said "Someone's gotta earn the money"


She smiled. "I should thank you for that, by the way" she said "I dont know if I ever have before."


I gave her a puzzled look "No problem"


"I've been sleeping in the bed, I can move if you need it" she offered.


"Nah, I'll sleep on the couch. We'll trade off later" I told her, repaying her kindess.


As I was leaving she spat out "Sorry I hit you"


"It's ok, sorry I rubbed the whole gay thing in your face. I know it's a big shock"


"This whole thing is a big shock, and all youve ever done is try to help me through it. I hope you know I appreciate it even if I dont show it"


So now I'm on my couch and Malinda is pleasant again. We've got 2 or 3 months left in these bodies, lets hope things stay that way.


-Greg.

Tori: Visit Part 2

On Saturday, Karen/Tori proposed taking me on a walking tour of Philly. I said I've lived here for almost three years, I know a bit about Philly, and she said "Yeah, but you never had someone walk you around it who really knew it." I had to admit, there was a point, and I later figured out it was as much for her, so she could reminisce. We walked by some of her old favorite bars, high school hangouts, the hairdresser where she used to work, restaurants she liked. Suddenyl she was putting stories and meanigns behind all these places that I had passed by and never thought about. By the end, she was getting a bit quiet. It was the introduction to "Tori" I never got, a few years too late. Who knows what my life might've been like if I had her holding my hand through those early days. I can only imagine how it would've looked, if I had her to teach me to be Tori, instead of trying to learn to be myself.

That night, Alex and I were going to dinner at my parents -- her parents. Of course I invited her along, and she seemed excited, but at the last minute, she decided to stay in. "I didn't plan on seeing them... I think it would be too much." Okay, I said, but this might be the only chance she has to see the people that raised her. It didn't seem to matter to her.

After dinner, Alex was driving me home. "Maybe you should go back to your place tonight," I said in a moment of remarkable foresight. "Karen and I are probably going to have to talk about stuff."

"Wouldn't you want me there for backup?"

"It's girl stuff sweetie," I said, kissing him. "I'll see you tomorrow."

I went upstairs to find... and empty apartment. I had a text on my phone saying "Hey Cliff, went to the club, join us when ur done bein lame!!!" I resented her using my old name, so I waited up a while. I was stewing in my anger so much I needed to shower to cool down.

Karen came in alone, obviously still drunk. "Hey, why didn't you come? You would've loved it. Guys everywhere."

"I have a boyfriend," I said bitterly.

"So?"

"Where's Raine?"

"She went on a booty call. Same old Raine. Not like everything else around here... what the hell are you doing with my life?"

"Excuse me?"

"I was so hot! I had so much going on, and now look at you... what do you weigh, 160?"

"140, at the most! God! Tori, you're a superficial bitch!"

"Oh really, Cliff? Look who's using my sexy body to bang nerdy boys because she's afraid she can't do better. You fucking... tomboy lesbian slut hag! I bet when you had a cock, you always wanted to trade it in. How do you think your boyfriend would feel if he knew you used to have a dick?"

I felt my fist clench. I've hit a girl before. I nearly did it again. Instead, I just looked her in the eye, and I did something much worse.

I told her, "Your family loves me."

She sneered, "They don't know you."

"Yeah," I said, "They do. I lived with them for a year. At first I was trying to be you, and tiptoed around and never talked to them, but I gave up on that and I just decided to do everything the way I would, if I was... if I was a girl. And you know what they tell me? Tori, you've really grown up. You've become such an amazing person."

I regretted it as soon as it was out of my mouth. It was over the line. I could call her a bitch or a slut and she would shrug it off, but I took it even further. I had a right to be mad. She was talking shit about how I would never be a real girl and how I wasn't a man either, and I... I needed to grab onto one thing I knew I had better than her, something I had done right since being Tori. Instead of explaining to her that it didn't matter I used to be a guy, I fought back, and it didn't feel good.

She sunk down to the couch, bawling with tears. After all these years, I'm still not comfortable around crying women, even though I've been one myself. All I could do was watch for a while, before snapping out of it, "Oh God, oh God I'm so sorry, oh Jesus... I didn't mean that, I didn't mean to say it..." completely forgetting the awful stuff she had just said to me.

As she cried, I continued talking. "Tori, I know for you, being a girl is all about looks and guys, but for me, this is something else. I don't care about my weight or make-up so long as the person I love loves me back. And I know people don't always get along with their parents... my dad practically hated me because I was into computers instead of football. My brother served in Iraq, I couldn't compare. I wanted your parents to like me so much... but more importantly, I wanted to be someone I liked being. And that's why they like... uh, why they think that about me. They can see I'm happy."

She sat up. Tears were still in her eyes, but she wiped them away. "I think I get it. I was a screw up, Cliff. I was an unemployed hairdresser who moved back home and dated older men. They loved me... they were annoying, but they loved me. I just wish I had that back, because I don't even know Karen's parents. There's nobody around to see that I've got my life together now. I wanted to go to dinner with them... but I got the call today. I didn't get the job. I'm still just a fill-in reporter."

I felt a bit more comfortable sitting next to her. I rubbed her back and she rested her head on my shoulder. "Hey," I laughed, "I'm unemployed. I'm still a screw up. I wish I could bring you to your parents and tell them to be proud of you... but you know they would be, okay? You're doing great."

"Uh huh," she sniffled.

I feel like Karen's my sister. We don't really see eye to eye, but we share something personal, something that we can never get rid of, no matter how we feel, no matter how crazy we get. The last thing I said to her that night was "By the way... never call me Cliff again, okay? I'm really not him."

She looked at me, and nodded "I think I understand... You're Tori."

She threw her arms around me and we got cleaned up and went to our respective beds. It was more complicated than that... it was a long, emotional, drunken conversation that didn't happen exactly as I've written it, but I've given you the gist of what we discussed. I think we reached an understanding.

I went to bed trying to grasp what I had actually just said: "I'm not Cliff." As much as I want that to be true, I still have almost 30 years in my head of answering to that name. And they weren't all bad. I think I stay on this blog because if I don't, all my memories of being him will just sit gathering dust. They're not useful to me anymore, but I can't get rid of them. I can't clear out my cache so that only the last 3 years remain. I can't talk to anyone around me about my old life... even when I can, I don't want to, exactly because I worry about trying to connect those old memories with this new life. So I want to thank you, strangers on the internet... for letting me remember, but also keep those memories distant.

Alex and I drove Karen to the airport the next morning. I walked with her through the airport. The last thing she said was "It might be a good thing I'm staying in Louisville. There's a really cute guy who's been trying to get my attention."

"I thought you were dating around?"

"He's special. I stayed away because he's the kind of guy you get serious about. And I was scared to try, because I thought I might be moving back here. But I see you and Alex together... hell, I heard you together... it makes me want that."

I hugged her goodbye and stayed to watch her plane take off. When Alex and I started to drive off, he asked me what I wanted to do for lunch.

I smiled and felt the skin on my midsection. "I wanna find the best cheeseburger in Philly."

Alex grinned a big goofy smile "That's why I love you."

I gave him a good long kiss and said "That's why I love me too."