Transplanted Life
Tuesday, August 19, 2003
Well, I was hoping I'd wake up in my own body this morning, one-month anniversery and all. No such luck, though. Still Michelle.

I wish I knew how to turn my brain off. Kurt and I were talking about that last night, in relation to movies, before seeing SWAT. I just can't do it. I can't help noticing the little details and things that don't make sense (does a cop really afford that beach house in Southern California?), despite everyone telling me that I'd really movies more if I didn't think about them, like I can just stop thinking. It's like walking into a room with a clock right in front of your face - it takes an act of will to not know what time it is. Thinking's a reflex.

But I'm not really talking about the movie, of course. Kurt kissed me last night.

From a purely physical standpoint, it wasn't much different than being a guy kissing a girl. Kurt's clean-shaven, so it's not like I had a moustache and beard reminding me of what had happened. It was a little strange to have the soft part behind the skin of my lips. But just knowing it was Kurt I was kissing, and not (say) Maggie made me tense. I tried closing my eyes, but I think that sent Kurt some sort of signal, because the next thing I knew his tongue was in Michelle's mouth. The funny thing is, I couldn't help but think a man's tongue feels just like a girl's, and I actually responded a little. Reflex, again. But only for a second.

I think I left it kind of awkward with him. Hell, I know I did. But, I don't know how long I can keep this up if every time I see him, I'm thinking, "what am I doing?"

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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