Transplanted Life
Wednesday, July 23, 2003
Well, still in Michelle's body. Still no contact with her in my own body. I'm starting to think this may last a while.

The worst thing is, I don't know if what I did today meant I made any progress toward getting my own body back. I don't know whether I've got any control over it at all, but I have to figure there's something I can do; otherwise I don't know how I can go on. So I decided to go and meet Kurt.

Not to tell him the truth, of course - the letter was very specific on that point. But, it did imply that I should "be together" with Kurt, also implying I'd be in some sort of trouble if I didn't. Wonderfully specific, that letter was, but it at least gave me some sort of directions to follow.

Everyone at BioSoft who actually noticed the secretary seemed to make some comment on my seeming nervous. I made some excuse about a blind date, which I guess wasn't wholly a lie. By the end of the day, though, I was jumping at every sound. Before leaving, I actually went into the ladies' room and started crying while sitting on the toilet. After all, I've only been in this body four days - even if it helps me get out of it, that's awful quick to get into the whole boy-girl thing, even if you're just pretending. And I feel ashamed of the crying, to the point where I almost didn't even type this. Sure, it may be some crazy cycle-oriented thing, but that just makes it worse - that's this body influencing how I behave, and I can't say I approve of that at all.

I guess that's what finally got me up out of the stall and putting a little make-up on Michelle's face - if this is what I'm going to have to do, it's what I have to do, and no hormonal crap is going to stop me. I probably overdid it, but I tried to use as little as possible. I fiddled with the clothes a little - a real girl would have known what message having the fifth button on the cardigan buttoned as opposed to the eighth sent; I just figured anything higher than the fifth looked sort of dorky. So, once I looked presentable, I headed out to The Place.

The Place isn't the only bar Kurt goes to, but it's fairly near his job and has a good-sized screen for sports. Heck, one of the NESN Red Sox postgame shows is even shot there. In fact, the crew was just starting to get in as I paid my tab, figuring Kurt wouldn't be there tonight.

Just as I was leaving, though, he was coming in. I almost hugged him (though it would have been a manly, clutching-on-to-something-familiar hug), but figured that would be suspicious. Instead, I waited until he got to the bar and sat down.

He smiled, recognized Michelle, then got this awkward look on his face. Which was good, becuase it meant we were in, if not the same boat, the same type of boat. I don't know exactly what I said to him, something about having been rude on Friday and wanting to make a better first impression. I wrote Michelle's name and number down and gave it to him. I said something really stupid when he tried to buy me a drink, something about how he couldn't buy me a drink so soon after I'd apologized because even if the apology and number made us even, accepting something would make us not even too soon after being even... Completely nonsensical. I practically ran out the door afterward.

So now, I'm sitting here watching the phone. It's out of my hands again.

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Note: This blog is a work of fantasy; all characters are either ficticious or used ficticiously. The author may be contacted at