Try out... you might like it

As if I didn't have enough going on, Erika convinced me to try out for the volleyball team tomorrow.

If you had asked me beforehand, I would have said absolutely 0% chance I would have tried out for any sports teams or any kinds of clubs at all while I was here. Who needs the aggravation? Why can't I just drift through like I've been doing and not put in any effort?

But Erika was insistent. This was "our thing" and virtually the whole basis of our friendship since intramurals back in grade 6. If I didn't try out, we would hardly see each other for the rest of the season. and Erica, along with Alicia, has really been my saving grace these past few weeks. I owe it to her, and to myself.

Besides, it occurs to me that drifting through high school is kind of what I did the first time, and where did it get me? Back here.

Just... don't expect me to be any good.

Now... where's my sports bra?

Wherefore art thou?

During my time back in school, the class I've been enjoying the most by far is English. Unlike math, it's not a huge stretch to come up with responses and other work that matches the level of a 15-year-old. And it's something I'm reasonably interested in.

Right now we're studying Romeo and Juliet. No matter how tough I found Shakespeare back in the day, it's something that definitely makes more sense than anything else that's been thrown at me in the last month. I think being older I can appreciate it more and it's just a refreshing change of pace.

So next week we're doing scene presentations, and we didn't get to choose our partners or our scenes. I ended up paired with Dave Vanvoorten, a jock who towers over me. He's the kind of guy who was always dating one or another of the hotter girls in school, and he doesn't strike me as much of an actor or a reader. We were also assigned Act I Scene v, which if you remember the play, is where Romeo and Juliet first meet and start slobbering all over each other.

Should be... fun.

Again, I have to wonder why I'm here, just to do old homework assignments and put myself through the humiliation of walking the halls of high school again? I get it, my life in 2016 wasn't so bad but come on... it's going on a month now, this is getting ridiculous.

Thanks

I didn't post all weekend because it was Thanksgiving here. I had a four-day weekend from school but I had to spend it up north with Jessa's dad's family. That meant no computer and hence no blogging.

It was.......... dull. The kind of dullness I almost forgot existed in the future because of what I've told you about technology there. Staying at grandparents house with no internet for three whole days is a challenge even for a 15-year-old girl in 2002, especially when she's grown really accustomed to spending time on her blog every night.

It gave me time to read ahead for my English assignment. We're covering Romeo and Juliet. I have to admit, it's nice to have something to do that I can sink my teeth into. And that keeps me at a distance from the fam.

On the way up, it was just me and "Dad." Jessa's mom had to take little sis Meghan to a dance practice on Saturday morning. Russ decided to hang back too. I decided "what the hell" - out of all of them, "Dad" (Marc) is the one I seem to get along with best, so if I have to spend a five-hour car ride with anyone it might as well be him.

It was a pretty enjoyable ride. Marc was pleasantly surprised when I switched the radio station to Classic Rock on the way up and sang along to Led Zeppelin (my falsetto on "Black Dog" is shockingly good in this voice although when I tried to sing along to Queen's "Fat Bottomed Girls" I felt very strange and stopped halfway through.)

"I never knew you liked this kind of music," he said fondly.

"It's a recent phase," I shrugged. "It's growing on me."

We stopped for lunch at McDonalds, something "Mom" would not likely allow, preferring to pack white bread sandwiches they they could eat at a rest stop. We bonded a little and when he asked me questions about school I gave more honest answers than I was expecting... as honest as I could be considering my position as his fake-daughter. I didn't want to say I was "struggling" with math -- so I'm a little out of practice, I don't think it's cause for alarm.

"What about boys?" he asked.

"Ew, no," I said in a very 'teenage girl' but very direct way. "All the guys at school are... just, no."

Now, to avoid any unnecessary questioning, I had to limited my dismissal of boys to the ones "at school," but if I'm being honest, that whole question for me is off limits. No guys. Not even any girls, if such an opportunity arose. It's just too weird. But I can't explain it in such detail and I definitely can't broach that latter topic.

Dad seemed glad that his little girl wasn't dating anytime soon, but maybe not satisfied that I was being straightforward, which... fair enough.

The parts of the visit that weren't dull were even more frustrating than usual. I had to keep my shield of "teen angst" up, which usually signifies to adults that I don't want to talk to them, but that doesn't always stop them from prying. In particular, Jessa's got a "fun uncle" with no kids of his own who really seems to dote on Jessa. It seemed like he really wanted my attention and was sad that he didn't get a lot of it. I just didn't know how to act, or what to say to him.

Jessa has another aunt with kids. There's two older guys - one back from university for the weekend and one who is Russell's age, and a 12-year-old daughter Leeann, which puts her awkwardly between Jessa and Meghan in ages. She and I could hardly be less alike, and I don't just mean because I'm a 30-year-old man inside. She's very upbeat and energetic and wants to know all about what high school is like, and what it's like to kiss a boy and all this other stuff that I'm not even sure Jessa would want to talk to her about if she were her own self. She glommed onto me and I felt bad brushing her off, so I told her, high school is hard and boys are stupid, stay away from them.

That wasn't what she wanted to hear. She instead showed me her ranked list of 10 boys in her class based on how much she would marry them. Yeesh, get a hobby kid.

Between family activities, we went to the video store (yay!) Leeann chose Moulin Rouge, Russ and the guys picked The Fast & the Furious (I had to fight the urge to say "Man, it's been forever since I saw the first one.") I chose Memento, which, the few members of the family who did watch it with me found very confusing.

Beyond that... it was a family weekend. What can I say? The food was good, and plentiful (and nobody shamed me for how much I wanted to eat) and I was surrounded by well-meaning people I didn't really relate to.

So, you know... family.

Looks

As I sit here trying to brush out my long red hair and constantly getting snagged on the knots, I can't help but think.... $%^&!!

Man. I didn't ask for this. I didn't ask for long tangled hair. I didn't ask for a soft, round body -- belly, hips, boobs. I definitely didn't ask for acne-prone skin again.

Did anybody?

If you could build your ideal body from the ground up, what would you pick?

I read Jessa's diaries and she seems to feel similarly to me. She feels fat, and ugly, and useless. Whenever she talks about the person she sees in the mirror she refers to it like a curse that's been put on her, not like it's a body she enjoys having.

But so far, she doesn't say what she would prefer. She doesn't talk about wishing she was beautiful, only giving the general idea that she's at war with her body and wishes it were different... somehow, any way. I at least have my specific complaints because I'm coming from a body that served me well for almost 30 years.

I wouldn't say that Jessa is ugly, only that she's nobody's idea of a model. I've said that suits me fine since being "hot", for me, would be way more trouble than it's worth. Yet at the same time, it makes me invisible and seem less valuable to people in general and guys... so if I were someone who wanted attention from people in general, and guys, that would be bad.

She doesn't think anyone will ever love her. The crazy thing is, in the adult world, you never know. So many people have found someone by the time they're my age. I bet a girl like Jessa is someone who really comes into her own after high school, after that pressurized environment that makes everyone anxious. But that's probably cold comfort for a 15-year-old, when that's so many years away.

Danny

So, I did something kind of weird today. It involves this kid Danny.

Danny Medeiros and I weren't friends the first time around in high school. I was barely aware of his existence, but I guess I did know him. He was the same age as me (which makes him the same age as Jessa) but kind of a runt, only hitting his growth spurt in the summer before Grade 12. So right now he's as tall as I am as Jessa.

I remember he always got picked on. He was kind of annoying, trying to get in with this group or that, really hanging with people who weren't interested in him. I don't know if he was deluded or what, but it was like he didn't really have friends.

He was one of the few people to hang around Lakeville after high school, like me, so we got to know each other better later, and he got me my last job -- the one I was just finishing up with when I entered this whole crazy time travelling-body swapping deal. He's not my absolute favourite person in the world, but I would say I consider him a friend and I definitely owe him for helping me out. Since I've been here, he's one of the people I've kind of made a point to watch from a distance, along with my old self, my friends and... some others.

So I'm walking out of the bathroom yesterday and I see him getting harassed by this guy I barely remember, this older kid who is a white guy gangsta wannabe, with all this phony hip hop bling (you guys have that word here in '02, right? It means jewelry, diamonds etc.) Homeboy has Danny in an actual noogie and I can't take the sight of it, so I step toward him.

"Hey," I say, trying to make my voice sound as commanding as a 15-year-old girl's can get. He looks up at me. "Are you gonna buy him dinner?"

"What?"

"I mean, that's a real intimate position. You want to touch him and rub him and everything, what's in it for him?"

Now, calling someone "gay" is not cool, but it is a good way to push some fake thug's buttons, so it's kind of a wash for me.

He lets Danny go and steps toward me.

I'm feeling nervous because this guy is huge and I'm not (I mean, relative to him...) He's looming over me and for a second I'm worried we're about to fight. I'm almost forgetting that I'm a girl and wondering if that even matters at this point.

He gets as close as he can without touching me. I stand my ground, trying to keep from pissing myself and stay assured that this supposed badass wouldn't really hit a girl.

I speak: "Just like, leave him alone, okay? He's not worth it."

Big guy has no answer for that and just kind of slinks away. I think he muttered "Pussy" to Danny as he passed, I guess making fun of him for needing a girl to protect him.

Danny and I just kind of share this look. I think he was embarrassed because he looked like a punk. He's frozen and doesn't know what to do, so I just gave him this wave of "See you around" and went on my way.

Later, I couldn't believe what had happened. I don't know where that came from. I really got involved there. I was doing so well at not interacting with people besides Jessa's pre-existing friends, I'm worried about the ramifications. That was way outside my comfort zone. I kind of regret it and I kind of don't and now... I guess we'll see what happens.

Tech

Ever since I got here, I felt like I've been missing a really important part of me. Something that defines me to my very soul and used to consume my waking days. It really took some getting used to not to be able to hold it in my hand whenever I wanted to, and there are a lot of times I'm sad that I don't have it and can't get it back. But it's also a little bit nice not to worry about having it in my pocket at all times.

I'm talking about my phone.

In the not-too-distant future, people are phone obsessed. It's not even seen as anything abnormal, but it's taken over our lives. Everyone is online at all times, available at all times, connected at all times. If you need to know something and you're in a bar or in the backseat of a cab, you just look it up. If you need to reach your friend, you shoot them a text.

It's been strangely hard, psychologically, to dial it back from that. Having such a huge focus on tech in the 2010's is definitely advantageous but it wasn't until I came back here that I realized how different things used to be. Scrolling through your phone -- looking at apps like Twitter or Facebook... oh lord, don't make me explain what those are -- is the default activity for people when they're just sitting around. We are constantly getting each others' information, just as our own entertainment, to stave off boredom. 

It's not a bad thing, and it has a ton of advantages by spreading new ideas and information, but it comes with a ton of drawbacks and it does seem to be warping people, bringing out the worst in them. It's so easy to just get in front of someone's face and say something shitty to them and not care about the consequences. 

Plus, other peoples' lives are our entertainment, and worse, they fill us with despair because everyone else seems to have it better. And that's before you get into all the misinformation and confusion that gets spread so easily these days-- I mean, those days. In future-times. The internet is no longer just the territory of people like me who have too much time on their hands. It's life. You know how in the 90s it was a stereotype that only friendless nerds were on the internet? Imagine hot girls creating empires out of makeup tutorials and videos of them opening boxes.  

I feel like I'm describing just some crazy dream I just had, but I assure you, it's all real, and it's coming for you.

By comparison, my month as Jessa (oh wow has it been that long already??) has been like rehab. I have been detoxifying from technology. When I was first cut off from the level of chatter that we're all used to in the future, I was really anxious. I would think like "What's going on in the world? What can I search, what can I refresh?" before remembering that I didn't have any of those tools at my disposal anymore. The internet still exists here in 2002... and I admit I have visited a few discussion boards just for a laugh (keeping my identity ambiguous because I believe that if you admit you are female online it's like asking for too much attention.)

But mostly, my mind has started to re-adjust back to normal. I am not worried about what I'm missing out on my social media "feeds" (again, this sounds so nightmarish and dystopian when I try to describe it to you) because those feeds don't exist yet. Nothing is happening. I mean, things are happening, but they're not for me to know or care about. And maybe that's the way the world should be. Maybe we took a wrong step somewhere in the future.

In contrast, it's helped me foster the bonds with the few people I have been close with in this life - Erika, Alicia, and Mary. When I am permitted computer time, I chat with them on MSN Messenger (if they happen to be around) and we even exchange long email chains describing the day, which have been so helpful to me in adjusting and getting caught up on who I'm supposed to be.

I think maybe in the future, we cast our net too wide, give too much of ourselves to too many people, or expect too much constant stimulation, distraction, information overload.

But, I'm sorry to say, again... it's coming. There's really not many ways around it.

Okay, I've got a math test to study for. If I get another D, I might find myself stripped of my computer privileges. Which is...... scary.

Going Braless

I remember the first day I got here, being instantaneously dropped into a girl's body, one of the most noticeable things was the bra. As much as the altered body shape and anatomy and the frizzy hair, the feeling of a confining, prodding, poking underwire really grated on me. It was annoying, it was irritating, it was often painful. It was, and remains, impossible to ignore. Every movement I make, the bra moves with - or just as often against - me. My two most sensitive attributes are cooped up in it, so I always feel it on them. And by highlighting them, it makes the world aware of what I "look like" (even if, when I get home and unfasten myself from it, the reality of their shape and size is very different.) 

Ever since then I've been baffled how women subject themselves to this treatment every day. And worse, I've become one of them, doing the very same!

For what it's worth, I don't even like sports bras. I mean, they're definitely less rigid but when you're used to nothing there, it still feels confining to have your boobs held in place.

I was so fed up today that I decided to try leaving the house without a bra. Jessa's mom immediately noticed and demanded I go right back upstairs and finish dressing. I did, but as soon as I got into school, I went to the girls room and took it off, stuffing it in my backpack and putting on a heavy sweater to try to obscure them.

It worked, a little. It was certainly freeing. I felt weird about it, letting them just bob around under my top. They're not big but they're not nothing. They have gravity, they jiggle and move. It felt wrong but differently from how wrong the bra feels. Also, and perhaps this is TMI territory, but the fabric of my top against my nipples was very noticeable compared to the bra. So I did end up feeling a little scandalous even though nobody seemed to care or stare.

What's a guy to do? I accept that, for now, I'm in a female body. I feel like I'm adapting to that way better than I would have expected. But damn if I don't miss the "comforts" of home and not worrying about this stuff.

Sleepover

Saturday night, Erika and I stayed over at Alicia's house. I'm getting more and more comfortable being around these girls but it still felt like I had crossed over a major threshold. I mean, they undressed for bed in front of me. We undressed in front of each other. And it was like... nothing.

It's a little scary to be next to some half-naked girls and just think "Good for you." Part of me thinks, it's because I'm older inside and what they look like is none of my business anyway, but... like I said, it's a weird difference.

I'm a little surprised to find myself actually going to sleepovers and stuff, let alone actually warming up to these girls, but they really have been my lifeline the last few weeks. Let's face it, the life of the average teenage girl is not a thrill a minute. I could sit in a corner and do nothing with my life but that would be punishingly boring and just give me more chances to feel weird about having this body. Having a chance to actually do stuff to get my mind off of things is always welcome. Plus, outside of the house, I get to have that all-important third slice of pizza with no judgment.

I had one demand when I agreed to the sleepover: we had to hit up Blockbuster. They seemed confused that I made such a big fuss about this very obvious sleepover activity, but I was dying to go. In the future, there are no Blockbusters, almost no rental places at all. You don't get your movies from a surly, underpaid college kid. They're just all available, all the time, "on demand." We've quit renting movies and quit buying them, unless you're like, some obsessed hobbyist. You sign up a "streaming service" and just watch it on your TV or your computer or your phone or whatever. Suddenly, you have unlimited choices but somehow it's actually harder to find something to watch, because the movies on one service aren't on another, and some movies just aren't anywhere that you know of.

So when we walked into that garishly lit rental chain location I wanted to fall on my knees and kiss the filthy, ugly carpet. This used to be like a church to me. Having every option in the world -- well, everything normal folks would want to watch -- lining the walls on a convenient shelf to browse, that was heaven.

There were some guys from school that Alicia and Erika wanted to go chat up, but they were too shy. They were actually my friends Matt and Brett in my original life, which caused me to keep my distance. I have this really weird phobia of my two worlds colliding if somehow I become friends with my old friends, or even their friends. I don't want to be in the social circle of Andrew Gillen from 2002, I don't think I could handle it.

We walked out with a few movies, including American Pie 2. I got the very unique experience of watching this very raunchy teen comedy with some fairly innocent girls who had never seen it before, and watching them gasp at the scene of Jason Biggs super-gluing his hand to his penis. They also laughed a lot... like, a lot-a lot at the scene where the guys were stuck in the house with the "lesbians." 

All I could think was, man... times have changed. I don't think you would put that in a movie 15 years in the future.

After the movie it was a fiesta of girltalk. I was hoping to just sit back and observe but I ended up being put in the hot seat. Alicia demanded to know - was I over Brian? I swore up and down that I wasn't into anyone but I think my stammering half-truths made it seem like I was just being bashful. My body refused to co-operate too, turning my face red and causing me to laugh nervously as I tried to come up with reasons why I, who appear to be a normal, functioning 15-year-old girl, am not interested in anyone. Why does the truth have to feel like a lie??

Eventually they let up and we started talking about Erika's many crushes. Forward from there, it was a nice enough night. I found it very novel to sleep on someone's floor any not wake up with massive back pain. (Erika and Alicia took the bed, it wasn't quite roomy enough for three and I wasn't going to push it.)

I spent Sunday doing homework. I had a few chapters to catch up on for English, and I figured, if I'm going to keep tanking Math, I might as well try harder in the class I have a shot at passing.

Boyz

Through all of this experience there's been one saving grace: no boys.

Okay, there's Jessa's older brother Russell, who is a senior and mostly keeps away from his bratty younger sis, which works for me. Beyond that, guys do not feature prominently into my life at all. That's great. I don't think I could handle it if Jessa had a boyfriend. I don't even know how well I'd take it if she had a male friend. Even Jessa's friends don't seem to have any guys in their orbit, which is crazy to me: Erika is really pretty, and Alicia is fun.

That said, I know for sure they're thinking about them. Erika desperately wants to be a teen queen, and part of that is probably getting a popular boyfriend. Alicia would probably date the first person who asked her, but seems to put guys off with her weird, artistic exterior (she pioneered wearing pajama pants to school with a jean jacket covered in anime buttons.) I figure there's gotta be someone out there for her, but maybe not yet.

I thought I was perfectly in the clear, but then at some point Alicia nudged me and said the name "Brian," in a hushed tone that made it seem like some big secret. I froze up, as I have a habit of doing. That name meant nothing to me, but I knew it was supposed to so I just said "Oh, I... don't want to talk about him" and made a note to find out what was the deal.

Jessa, like a lot of teenage girls, keeps a pen-and-paper diary under her bed, which is all well and good, but she was pretty sporadic in keeping it up, and obviously writing for herself because she wasn't explaining a lot of details. That's why I haven't exactly absorbed all of it (and because, no disrespect for her, she's no Hemingway. I'm not sure even he could make the trials and tribulations of an average teenage girl riveting enough to want to read.) But now I had a research topic. Brian.

Details were scant. Not even a last name, but it seems like he is a friend of Russell's. There's just a lot of "Brian's so cute," "I want to date him" "I love him" hears and stars and things drawn in the margins. The girl obviously had it bad for him.

I felt really crappy reading all of this. I mean, for starters, it's obviously very private, but Jessa and I... I think I can admit, I know her from a very particular angle at this point. Whoever Brian is, it doesn't seem like she has a chance with him, and is just infatuated. But it's not like he is oblivious to her. There's descriptions of conversations, in person and on MSN, all of which are terribly meaningful moments in Jessa's life, but probably insignificant to him. It made me pretty sad the more I read.

To my knowledge, I have not inherited any of Jessa's... shall we say, tastes, in that area (all teenage boys look like giant smelly, greasy dirtbags to me, sorry.) So that means that as far as I'm concerned Brian is a non-person. He has not sought me out and I have no idea who he even is. I wish him well.

Honestly just a very stressful boring day today, not even worth writing about tonight. I'm going to take my bra off and go do homework. Maybe have a bath after dinner and MSN with Erika. Sky's the limit. Aren't I sooooo glad I got sent back here.

Is this it?

A lot of the time at lunch, the girls and I will "do homework" meaning having our books out at the caf table while talking and eating. At first this was valuable for me. I learned a lot about who I was supposed to be and who these girls are by listening in, but after two full weeks it's starting to grate on me. It's very hard for me to get invested in these girls' problems because I've been a grown up so teen drama doesn't really matter ot me anymore. Plus, with time travel and having my sex changed, I feel like I have more profound things on my mind than "where to buy cute tops." (Although come to think of it that's a lot easier for me to wrap my head around than the other stuff. Forever 21 just opened at Lakeville Center.)

So I spend a lot of time just kind of zoned out, trying to focus on math but really just watching everybody at every table. Trying to create a mental profile of where are they now, in 2016? Who became a doctor, a real estate agent, who fell off the face of the earth?

Here's a little spoiler for you -- it's terrifyingly easy to keep in touch with all of these people in the future thanks to the way the internet expands and mutates over the next couple of years, where everyone has a profile on what's called "social media." Right now, I think, somewhere in Boston, a guy named Mark Zuckerberg is hatching a scheme that is going to change the world -- arguably for the worse, but let's not get into that.

The point is, I'm vaguely aware of what happens to a lot of these people, and yet, do I actively keep in touch with them in the future? Of course not. There's exactly one person from high school who is still in my life in the future, and it honestly wasn't by choice.

But I look at these kids all milling around at lunch and in the halls. This is everything for them right now. This is their world. It's mine too, so I should probably get a little more engaged. I don't know why I'm here, but it's probably not just to sit on my ass and thumb through Math Horizons 10.

Am I actually supposed to change anybody's life? I'm walking around afraid to change anything to affect the future, but... I guess that's the point, right? It's not like I can Marty McFly myself out of existence since I'm already here. 

It's hard to know, but you'd think I ought to do something. Of all the times I thought "If I could go back then, knowing what I know now," I never considered it might actually happened, especially not this way. There's got to be a reason I'm here and I am desperate to find it.

Caf food

I didn't end up writing yesterday since Little Sis needed the computer for her homework. I get a little antsy on days when I can't write because there's still so much to say and yet nothing seems to change day to day. I spent the night going over my Math textbook trying to wrap my head around trigonometry.

They should be teaching these kids computer science. How to write programs. How to do their taxes. I get why this math stuff would be valuable for some people but why does everyone have to learn it? And in my case, twice?

I'm doing a lot better in English. Reading, I can handle.

But I had other things on my mind today - food. After last Friday's discussion with Jessa's mom about the appropriate number of pizza slices, I have been very self-conscious about what I'm eating. Does that mean I passed up a chance to have a burger at A&W with Erika? Of course not. But today I'm sitting in the caf looking at my plate and feeling... sick.

Not literally sick, not like I was on my period or anything, but mentally I'm feeling anxious and self-conscious. That's because the caf food sucks. And it's not great for options. As soon as I came back here I found myself in the ritual of waiting in line to be dished out the the same old fries and gravy and chicken burgers, the only two things they really serve around here. (There are a few dicey sandwiches pre-wrapped in the fridge - does anyone trust a public school egg salad?)

I was hungry - starving in fact - but looking down at it I was like, "what am I doing?" Is everyone going to think I'm a pig for eating this burger, the same thing everyone else is eating, just because my body is not petite? And is it in any way my fault that this is what they serve to teenagers, day after day?

I feel like people look at someone who looks like Jessa - they see her eating anything besides maybe the skimpiest of salads and think "That's why you're fat" without a care given to the fact that they're eating the same stuff, often in the same quantities. It's unjust, and it's bothering me maybe more than it should, but maybe not. Maybe it's all in my head and seeing how even Jessa's mom talks to her has given me a complex or something, but I know from the outside that I probably thought that way in school as a teenager as well.

Also, I haven't been in a high school much lately in the year I come from, but I don't know if they still have pop machines there. I can't imagine they do but when I was a kid -- you know, the first time around -- we didn't think twice about putting in two bucks for a bottle of Mountain Dew with our greasy lunch. What's up with that? (I will say that in the short time I've been here I've definitely drank any bottle of Tahiti Treat I could get my hands on. That stuff is harder to come by in the future. Sugary goodness.)  

I got over it - I ate the burger and drank a Pepsi with it. It was crappy food, but satisfying. I thought about whether I should be bringing my own lunch (Mrs. Gilbert doesn't have time in the morning to prepare them and I haven't taken that on myself, hence a daily chicken burger.) But I have to make sure I'm doing it for the right reasons. Am I just worried about what people will think? Am I trying to "lose weight?" Do I think "eating right" will make a big difference in my, or Jessa's life? I don't know. These aren't questions I had to ask myself the first time around because I was a beanpole who ate like a garbage disposal. Jessa's experience as a teen is nowhere near close to mine for a variety of reasons. Being female, and on the chubby side, adds so many complications to decisions I took for granted when I was a kid.

Okay, big lesson learned, send me back now.

Going out

I was awakened at 9 AM by a knock at the door. It was Jessa's mom holding a cordless phone. Erika was calling.

Last night, while I was deep in my frustration about the way I was being treated by Jessa's family, I found Erika on MSN Messenger and vented my frustrations about it. I wasn't entirely sure I was making any sense because I had to frame it from the viewpoint of my life as a girl, not my life as secretly-a-time-travelling-guy, but I think she got what I was saying. It was actually a relief to unload on her, after I felt sure I wasn't troubling her. She's one of the people I've counted on to help retain my sanity through all this, in a weird way. Following her lead, as well as Alicia and to a lesser extent Mary, has helped keep me balanced with my head on straight in 2002 instead of walking around like a crazy person. But I've never really spilled my guts for obvious reasons.

A lot of the time I feel like I'm just uselessly sitting there watching them play out their problems. Part of that is because of my secret, because I can't talk about that it means I can't share my true thoughts and feelings about anything. Have you ever watched a body-swapping movie and screamed at the TV why didn't they just tell the truth? Well the answer for me is - because this seems way easier. If I'm pretending to be Jessa I don't spend as much time worrying about how weird it is to actually be Andy underneath this.

I didn't know how to talk to teenage girls in 2002 and although I know how to talk to women just fine, even as friends, relating to teenage girls as a fellow one is still something that's beyond me. I haven't totally absorbed my "new role" yet (hopefully I never will but getting a little closer would be nice). I don't really care about the same stuff they do, and my life experience is way different up until last week. Still, I'm trying to break the ice. These are the only friends I've been given.

So I thought "my mom shitting on me because I'm supposedly fat" was a good enough reason to turn to my friend, and I was right. She was happy to hear me out on all my frustrations, even if I had to shield her from the "I am also secretly a guy from the future" aspect. It was very useful to help me organize my thoughts and work through it, to finally build up the strength to go pretend to apologize for my outburst.

My apology must have worked because Jessa's mom was happy to act like thing had happened last night. Maybe, as the mother of teens, she's just used to this erratic behaviour.

Erika was calling to invite me to meet her at the mall. Weirdly - as soon as I shook off my sleepiness - I was jazzed about this. I have been really lonely and stuck in my own head when not at school. Getting out and doing something even mildly fun seemed like a great opportunity. I dressed and rushed out to catch the bus and meet her.

Neither of us really had much money, but we browsed anyway. We went to Sears and I watched her try on some clothes (she wanted me in the changing room with her and I said no, I can wait outside.) I didn't try anything on myself, despite her urging, pleading that I was still feeling self-conscious about my body (partially true, and partially the fact that my entire life has been "trying on strange new clothes" lately so I don't consider that a fun, recreational activity.) She pulled me into La Senza - which is a lingerie store where a lot of girls this age buy their first thongs and push-up bras. I remember salivating over the mannequins in the front window at that age. Today they do considerably less for me. It's actually kind of annoying seeing those perfectly skinny plastic torsos there.

There was some novelty to shopping there. I honestly think about this body much in the same way as my male one - that it's for getting around, there's nothing alluring about it. After all, it's 15 years old, very much "in development" and as I've said, not quite up to beauty standards. I dress it accordingly - plain, Wal-Mart underwear and comfy, non-showy clothes. It hasn't really crossed my mind that I could wear a lacy undergarment. I examined a few in the bin and thought, "Is this me?" Before deciding... it's not.

Erika on the other hand, seemed to dream about a world where she owned a whole wardrobe of the flounciest, sexiest things - panties and bras, short skirts, low cut tops. She said her parents were relatively permissive for her culture, but she still didn't feel right crossing that border yet.

I don't think she feels pretty. I think she feels like wearing those clothes would be what makes her pretty and desirable. She's openly counting the days until she gets rid of her braces. I wanted to tell her that in a few years she'll have guys slobbering all over her, but she'd probably just take it as me being supportive, not a literal description of her future. I wonder if she'll be happier then or...

We noticed some "popular girls" from our grade - Heather Lyons and Mikaela Lukic. We are definitely not travelling in the same social circles as them, and they didn't acknowledge us more than an elbow jab that seemed to say "Look at these freaks trying to be hot" but I got the sense that Erika was kind of yearning to be one of them.

I wonder if that maybe tears her and Jessa apart as friends.

More than that I wanted to say there was more to life than being "pretty" and that she has a good brain in her head and I hope she doesn't waste it. When I tried to, she kind of shrugged it off, like, "Why can't I be both?" And... true, I guess.

We ate at the foot court, and we talked about what was going on at school. I'm a little bit more in the loop now than when I first got here. I still don't know everything, and not even everything Jessa's supposed to know (leading to awkward conversations when Erika mentions something that happened over the summer and I'm like "What? Oh yeah, I forgot" despite it only being a month ago for her.) And some of what I know hasn't happened yet (and will it ever? Or am I in a different timeline officially? Headache!) But it was still a good talk.

It reminded me of some casual dates I've been on. Just being around someone, no agenda, doing whatever. I haven't really had that in a while and it was a little sad that this was my most fulfilling day in a long time since before my time travel, but you've gotta take the good stuff when you can.

Pizza night

So, I just got a taste of some of the harsher aspects of being Jessa. And I'm not talking about the period, which is well over with.

I've mentioned before that Friday night is pizza night at the Gilbert household - the one night of the week it seems like everyone can unwind and relax. We were watching TV - American's Funniest Home Videos, which I'm sure I would have found stale even 14 years ago the first time around. Everything was going okay, "Mom" was asking about my day and everything and I gave her the simplest answers, least likely to provoke any kind of follow up discussion (you know, like a real teenager) and then after I finished my slice I went back into the kitchen for another.

When I came back, she asked "What do you have there?"

Confused, I answered, "Um, pizza."

"Isn't that your third slice?"

Um... yeah? And?

"Honey, I just worry. We spent all this money on new school clothes for you, I don't want you to... outgrow them."

I froze, and then kind of chuckled, "Are you fucking serious?" 

I didn't even think anything of it, because my mom is pretty relaxed about that kind of thing but Jessa's mom clearly isn't. She snapped "Language!"

"Jessa, don't talk to your mother like that!" 'Dad' stepped in.

I was starting to get angry. "She's not my--" I blurted out, before stopping myself and - I can't believe I did this - running up to my room. With the pizza slice, of course.

I sat there, in this pink and purple room, stewing because everything about my situation is bad enough - I do not want to be here, I don't want to look this way or have people see me this way or be talked to this way... I didn't expect to be criticized for eating an extra slice of pizza when I was still hungry. Tears were welling up in me, which made me feel even worse, because I hate crying and I've done a fair amount of it in this body already. I fell to my side clutching one of Jessa's many stuffed toys for comfort, sort of leaning into the whole "teenage girl" thing.

Eventually 'Dad' came up.

"Hey sweetie," he said... which made me shudder because it's one of the first times I've been feminized more than being called by Jessa's name. "Do you want to talk about that?"

"Not really," I snapped. "She can't tell me how much to eat. That's... it's not fair!"

"Your mom just has some... concerns." he said. 

"Does everyone around here just think I'm some fatass?" I sneered.

"We--" he stammered, "No, honey, you're beautiful."

I know that he used that word because it's normally what teenage girls want to hear about themselves but I couldn't have cared less and that made things worse.

"We disagree sometimes over how to handle some issues with you kids sometimes. She has her beliefs, I have mine... it's actually not as much about you as you think. I'm sorry that you get caught in the crossfire."

"Whatever," I said, still seething about getting talked to that way and not really letting his words land on me.

"Your mom does know it's a sensitive subject. She's trying to help in her own way."

That didn't comfort me at all. I would rather she just stay out of my business and I bet the real Jessa would agree. He told me to feel free to come down whenever I wanted to apologize for yelling. I thought, it could be a while. 

It's funny. I'm not a temperamental person, I don't yell or anything in my normal life, but this situation has really put me in that place. Different hormones are sending different signals to my brain and changing how I would react to stuff. It's like being on a drug. And it's not like this is a situation I would have had to handle in my previous thin male life. Being in this body means I can't be the "me" that I expect to be, at least not in a situation like that, under pressure or caught off guard. I really am reverting into a teenager. It's weird, and kinda scary.

After he was gone I took some time to calm down and write some of my thoughts out. I meant what I said about how adults shouldn't talk to kids like that, scolding them for an extra slice of pizza. It's true that I find certain things in life harder because I'm currently chubby. It's unexpected because I was always naturally thin in high school and I ate whatever I wanted. So I literally never worried about it until my body suddenly "became" this way.

Do I deserve to be punished or talked down to because of that?

And don't treat it like a failing of Jessa because her body is the way it is. Maybe she'll lose weight. Maybe she'll gain it. Maybe she'll stay in this awkward middle ground her whole life. What does that have to do with her as a person, you know? It's gross to hear. Just let people live.

It sucks that Meghan - Jessa's little sister - has to grow up in this environment. I wonder if she eats less because she's afraid of turning out "like Jessa" and disappointing her mom.

When I was a dumbass teenager myself, I probably would have felt free to mock someone like Jessa because it was the popular thing to do. I hate that about myself, even though I - 29-year-old Andy - have grown past it. Somewhere out there in 2002, I'm not there yet, and it's bothering me. I probably would have thought, if she wanted life to be easier, she should just lose weight, it's a choice she makes not to be thin. Which is stupid. I'm telling you right now, 2002 people, that's not cool.

After an hour or so, and eating that slice of pizza in bed, I came down and gave Jessa's mom her fake apology, barely able to look her in the eye as I said "Sorry I yelled at you" and she coldly accepted it. My mind was still reeling inside because of all the different ways this was very messed up, but if I don't stow it away, this experience is going to be a lot worse than it needs to be. So I play along.

They were watching the show that came on after AFV... get this. It was some hourlong drama I don't even remember called "That Was Then." It's about a guy who fucking time travels back to his high school days. Look it up.

I didn't know whether to laugh or cry.

Night. 

Comments

Ok, this blog is weird. I mean, I get the whole mom foisting her own body image issues on you. Yay you for standing up to her! But what's this whole "I'm really 29" thing? You're not a time traveller, you're a girl who is awesome in her own way!
By Anonymous
Sept 28, 2002

Wake Me Up When September Ends

That's a reference to a song that's still a few years away.

I was able to get through the school days with the help of a bottle of Midol - helpful but not exactly a wonder drug. My period Jessa's period The period made me more distracted than usual, which I have mixed feelings about. I think it's over though.

I keep having this existential crisis. I have to sit through a full day of classes, day after day, learning stuff I already learned once (and forgot.) What is the point? Am I really just here to re-learn high school stuff? Am I here for a reason? If I do well, will I earn my way back to my real life? If I slag off the entire time, will it affect Jessa's life? Why isn't she here learning this stuff? When she comes back (if she comes back??) will she remember any of it?

I'm just baffled. The questions of why and how this happened to me lurk in the back of my brain at all times and there are no answers, no clues. So I have no choice but to go along with it. And that's miserable because school is boring and I would rather be anywhere else.

But I appear to be a 15-year-old girl so my options are extremely limited there.

Last week we had a test in math class. Today I found out I got a 45%, which frankly I'm impressed by since I was totally winging it but failing still doesn't feel good. What do you even say to that? I'm 14 years out of practice for Grade 10 Math, and I wasn't that good at it the first time. And I know for a fact that there is a slim chance calculating the area of a circle plays a very small role in most peoples' successes in life. I don't think I should have to care about passing math for Jessa (again, what value does it have if I'm doing the work for her?? Unless I'm here forever??) But I still felt shame because I did something and failed at it. This is the one thing I've got going on in life and I am doing it badly.

I guess I'd better hit the books. These tests are just going to keep coming.

She was a boy, he was a girl... can I make it anymore obvious?

Sorry, I couldn't resist, that joke has popped into my head too many times not to write it down. I've probably heard that song 50 times in the week I have been here. I forgot just how "everywhere" Avril was back in 2002. I remember getting really sick of it back then, but now it has this weird nostalgic edge to it.

Looking at her CD collection, Jessa's tastes tend toward boybands - Backstreet Boys, NSync, O-Town - as well as Mariah Carey, Britney Spears, Destiny's Child... usually teen girl 2000's stuff. The Moulin Rouge soundtrack. Michelle Branch. Oh man, I forgot about Michelle Branch. Her song with Santana is another one that is on the radio five times a day here in 2002. Mrs. Gilbert likes to listen to the pop station while she cooks and does dishes. 

Back when I was 15 the first time, I would have found these songs annoying and obnoxious (not to mention all the conversations with my friends about whether Avril was hot - sorry, I was a shallow jerk, like all teens.) I don't know if it's because I'm getting older or getting further away from it that makes me see it differently. The first time that bubblegum faux-punk guitar revved up and came up on the radio I got this hit of nostalgic buzz that made me go "Oh hell yeah, I am ready for this!" And now I just accept it as a fact of life. He's a boy, she's a girl, it's obvious, etc etc. It made me feel young again, that's for sure.

Since I'm still on my period (Jessa's period?) I'm feeling weird and emotional and raw. The cramps have subsided but the hormones are definitely doing something to me. I skipped writing last night because I just wanted to be by myself. I needed some comfort food so I went on LimeWire - I had forgotten about LimeWire, everything on the internet seems so primitive and unintuitive to me now - and downloaded the entirety of the White Stripes' White Blood Cells album and burned it to a CD so I could listen to it in her room on her discman. I had to actually think about what music I liked was available in 2002, but I guess there's a pretty extensive back catalog so I won't be missing my 2010's indie rock too much.

I'm not a music snob but it did used to be my job, and I was good at it. Hey, I've come to respect a good catchy pop tune too, and might someday dig into Jessa's collection. I just needed something that reminded me of high school in a good way. This is where my love of music started, which put me on the path to... wherever it is I ended up at 29. 

Back in these days, my tastes were a little more basic... pop punk bands like Blink-182 and Sum-41, classic rock like Zeppelin and Aerosmith, 80s rock like Poison and Motley Crue... I semi-ironically liked Bon Jovi because we all loved to sing along to "Livin on a Prayer." This was the album that put me on the path to the hipster crowd. It was the first thing I liked that my friends didn't, because they didn't get the guitar-and-drums thing.

I don't know if the word "hipster" has been coined yet in 2002 but it would take a while to explain.

Listening to "my" music helps me cope with my situation. I don't know whether to say I'm "a kid again" or if I'm just playing a part, but hearing "Offend In Every Way" puts me in touch with 15-year-old Andy.

And of course hearing "The Same Boy You've Always Known" hits very differently now that I am a person who gets a period. Excuse me while I go bury my head in my pillows and weep some more. 

Oh that's what that is...

So, if anyone was wondering, the stomach ache I've been feeling for the last few days wasn't food related after all.

Any guesses? Anyone? Come on, you should know. First thing that pops into your head.

I'm menstruating.

Welcome to womanhood, Andy. Hope you survive the experience.

The bleeding started last night before bed. I was changing into some pajamas when I saw a red stain on the inside of my underwear.

I didn't scream in horror or anything, more like... an exhausted sigh. I was not ready, but I'm a grown man, and not a total idiot. I've been in relationships, I've done some reading. I know probably nearly as much about being a woman as a 15-year-old girl does.

That doesn't mean I'm comfortable with it, but aside from the pain - and guys, the cramps are killer over here - I was mentally equipped to do what needed to be done. I frantically rifled under the bathroom sink for pads, specifically night time liners. It feels a little weird do have something down there, but weird is sort of the norm right now. I'm just thankful she's seemingly too young and awkward about her bodyparts to be on tampons. I don't think I am prepared for that... even if I can sort of see the benefits.

Hey, have they invented Diva Cups yet? One of my exes used that and it seemed really economical and, like... ecological. (See? I know some things.) Maybe I could withstand the discomfort with my current body for that.

I wanted to take the day off from school, but "mom" saw right through it. "If you missed five days of school every month you'd be held back." Well, I guess every other girl makes it through somehow. And a lot of them have been no better prepared for the experience than I have.

Still, walking through the hallways, knowing what my body was doing, put me on edge. I know nobody can tell, but I feel like they can tell. Like maybe I'm walking differently. It was those first few days all over again.

I felt shitty and I didn't want to talk to anybody and I couldn't focus and I was probably rude to Jessa's friends and... God, when does this become "normal"? Part of me wants that and part of me wants it to never happen again.

Based on what I've heard from women I know, it never really becomes "normal." For a lot of them, you just know what to expect but it never stops disrupting your life at least a little...

Guys, we don't give them enough credit for soldiering on and making it look easy.

More about ME-me.

All this dwelling on my current situation has left something out. Admittedly, it's a messed up scenario that I absolutely should be dwelling on, but I want to let you know a bit about me. I don't want you to think I'm JUST the guy stuck in the teenage girl's body.

I had a life. Kind of.

The night this all happened, I was feeling really upset because my contract was ending at work. For years now I've worked an endless string of contracts. I don't know why I should be so despondent about this one, it was just the latest, but turning 30 in the new year - a year that hasn't come for me yet - and never feeling like I was on solid ground. It was starting to eat at me.

Before that I worked retail well into my twenties. I worked for a CD store in the mall until it closed a few years ago. Can you believe that? I could go to the Lakeville Centre, and walk into that music store right now and they would be charging $18 for a Coldplay CD, blissfully unaware iTunes was coming for them, and Spotify right behind them.

I'll stop myself there because the less you know, probably the better. Time travel is fucking weird, man. 

I've had women reject me because I didn't have a career going, you know? My most recent ex broke up with me for what I took to be similar reasons, but then went back to her previous boyfriend who still lived with his parents. It was hard not to take that personally.

Okay, I'm not making myself sound like a real winner, but there's more to it. I'm just one of a million millennials (what we call people born in the 80s... or something. I can't remember if that term is being used yet.) who never got out of the starter gates. We went into debt getting undergrad degrees and were told to go find our way in a world that was too damn crowded with nothing to do and - hope I'm not spoiling anything here. I look around these high school halls and I can see that future for half these kids.

After my job ended, I had thought about going back to school, which... hah hah. Funny twist.

So, what? Do I live Jessa's life from here on out? Is there a time limit on this thing? Do I need to throw myself in front of a car again to go back?

Who can say what the rules are. I'm very antsy to get back, but then I have to figure out what I'm getting back to.

I hope I don't have to learn a valuable lesson before I can go back, like Bill Murray in Groundhog Day. I suck at learning valuable lessons.

Anyway. I loved that CD store job. It didn't pay well, but it was right in my wheelhouse. I got to be around music and movies that I liked, and meet interesting people (behind the entitled soccer moms and confused grandmas.) I was just definitely outgrowing it by the time I was done, and I never figured out who I was beyond that. So I've just sort of been... floating. And now I've floated here, I guess.

I've never romanticized my high school years - I was a bored/boring little nobody, and they neither sucked nor ruled. But seeing it from this vantage definitely makes me yearn for my youth, when there were a ton more possibilities and more energy. Which I guess makes it a good thing I'm here... and a bad thing that I'm trying to keep a low profile and not doing anything with it.

Okay, this was going to be about me, but I guess I revealed that there wasn't really as much to me as I thought. If that's the big grand lesson I'm supposed to learn, well done, now send me back please.

PS, stomach still hurts. Badly.

Stomach ache

When we got home from Jessa's Grandma's, there was a voicemail on the machine from Erika asking if I wanted to come over. I don't really know what my response would have been - am I going to be in trouble if I don't put in the time with these friends? But the truth is I really wasn't feeling it. She seemed let down though when I called back to decline and I almost reconsidered, so I may just go along in the long run...

At least I had a good excuse. "Grandma" had made a roast for dinner, with potatoes and tons of sides, and I must have stuffed myself too much because now I feel really gross. I don't know if there's something weird with Jessa's digestive tract and I'm afraid to ask, but nobody seemed to think much of feeding her this, or looked at me like I was eating wrong. So I don't know. I should go lie down in a bit.

"Mom" asked me why I made a beeline for the family computer and what I was doing. I said it was an ongoing homework assignment for English, do a journal every night. I don't know why this didn't occur to me before. Now it won't look weird when I am staying on the computer half the night. Good job, Andy. Now I can try to get a full night's sleep instead of waiting up until I think it's safe to sneak down.

You know, where I come from it's not unusual for every person in a household to have their own computer, even the teens. Which admittedly, seems kind of excessive to describe it in 2002. But laptops are everywhere, and don't get me started on what has happened to phones. That's a whole other post for a whole different time, if I ever eel comfortable... divulging.

I was writing earlier today about what my life was like back in 2002 (sorry, mentally I'm still in my present, your future.) In case you're wondering, 15-year-old Andy is here, I have seen him around school, but I am very careful not to look. Part of it is, it's just too weird. It makes me cringe to see him - I mean, have you ever seen video of yourself being young and stupid? Same feeling. It also fills me with a kind of dread because he's me, but he's not me. I don't knowcwhat he'll do at any moment. If you're not familiar with the phrase Uncanny Valley, go ahead and Google it. Or Ask Jeeves it, since we're in 2002.

As far as I can tell, he hasn't been the victim of any kind of body-hopping shenanigans. It does appear to be me in there, the 15-year-old me, acting independently. I see him goofing off with Matt and Brett. Saying and doing things that, if I don't remember them, definitely seem in character. 

It does make me wonder where Jessa is... if anywhere. I mean, nobody exactly explained to me the rules of time travel. Did she wind up in my body, in the future? Is there still a future?

Or is my persona maybe, like... sitting on top of hers? Is she still... somewhere?

Dude... I gotta go lie down.

Well, at least the week is over.

It's Saturday so I slept in today. I really deserved it. Apparently we are going to grandma's house for dinner tonight. That feels like it might put me on the spot somehow so I'm trying to enjoy a time out from Jessa-ness for now.

Being around Jessa's family has highlighted a few differences between our upbringings. Jessa's family is comfortably middle class. Her parents seem to have good jobs, they've got two cars - a Honda Civic and a Toyota SUV - and a nice house with room for their three kids. Jessa is the middle child between an older brother and younger sister. This has probably worked to my advantage. There's virtually no attention being paid to me.

Thinking back to where I was at this age, I was an only child, living halfway across town in a townhouse with my mom. Dad had moved to Alberta with his new wife. My aunt Debbie was over a lot, but mostly we were on our own, which meant I was on my own. For a lot of kids that age, it might be a doorway to getting into trouble, but for me it was a doorway to spending all my money on comics and DVDs and slushies at the Mac's down the street. I did get high on weekends sometimes, but other than that it was a lot of channel surfing, posting on forums, and boredom. 

I almost always ate dinner in front of the TV. That's not allowed here except on Pizza Night, which is Friday.

God, my boobs are sore. I must have slept on them wrong or something. It's hard to resist the urge to just sit here massaging them but whenever I find myself touching them excessively I feel very... awkward.

At school, I've been spending time with Jessa's friends. Not necessarily on purpose, but they stick by me in class and at lunch. That's a good thing and a bad thing. Bad, because for the most part I would like to keep to myself through this experience, but that's probably not feasible. I also have already slipped up a little bit and said a few things the real Jessa wouldn't, but uh, what exactly are the consequences of that? Mild embarrassment? I guess they can sort of help me "stay in character" by giving me a lead to follow, but how much do I want to?

Teenage girls tend to be moody and mercurial anyway. So if Jessa wakes up one day with the disposition of a 29-year-old man... how weird is that really? I mean, without the time travelling.

As far as friends go, I suppose I could have done worse. Not surprisingly given who Jessa seems to be, her friends are not total superficial bimbos. It's weird because I actually somewhat recognize them, but not Jessa. There's Alicia Alden, who was short and arty. I'm probably only 5'5 here and she's nearly a head shorter. Very perky and positive about life. Then there's Erika Ali, who is taller than me. I actually remember her because by senior year she... well, how do I put this. She got a lot hotter. Maybe she left Jessa and the others behind a little bit, so that's why she sticks out because this isn't the crew I remember her hanging around. Right now she looks a little plain and tall but you can kind of see where her looks are developing. I feel weird saying that but I don't have a lot else to think about, besides mentally placing these people based on what I know about them. Lastly is Mary Wong, who I don't really remember either. Mary just arrived from Taiwan. Her English is good but she needs help with, like, expressions and other random words they don't teach you. She's very into math and science, probably unsurprisingly, but I think the language barrier makes her feel like she has to keep quiet a lot of the time.

There are absolutely no boys in Jessa's life. So much the better.

I don't mind these girls. We don't have a ton in common or anything - and definitely wouldn't have back then - but they aren't dumb, and won't bag on me for not wearing makeup or dressing in kind of a frumpy, gender-neutral fashion. I've been favoring jean/khaki shorts and baggy tees.

That's a comforting thought. If this had to happen, I definitely could have drawn worse in the "you are now a girl" category. I mainly only think about it when it's time to pee or wash or dress myself. Or when I'm going up or down stairs.

It's funny because you watch these movies where the guy becomes the girl and they end up having to get all feminized - wear lipstick, walk in heels - but... this isn't like that at all. I didn't become the cheerleader or anything. I just became a really, really anonymous person... who happens to be female.

I'm not saying I like it, but... things could be worse?

The First Day

So, one minute, it was night time - in the present (future?), in my own body, in winter - and the next, I'm on my ass outside of my old high school in the middle of September, not long after the school year began.

I was also a little drunk, at least when I left my body. I did sober up eventually but I think the lingering effects of... whatever happened to me, and finding myself in a strange place make it hard to trace where drunkenness ends and regular disorientation begins. I think that probably covered some of my awareness of how different my body suddenly was.

It was very overwhelming and took a minute to get my bearings and pull myself up. The first people I recognized were actually my old friends, Matt Hayes and Brett Jampolsky. We used to hang out all the time, and yet we totally fell out of touch by the end of University. They walked past me on their way in. I called after them, "Hey!" but they didn't look. I guess they thought that this random girl was shouting out to someone else.

I sped up to talk to them, starting to feel the difference in my body every step, but they disappeared into the crowd. By the time I got to the front door, I caught sight of my reflection in the front window.

There were a few people around but I wasn't anywhere in the reflection. That's when I noticed the hair, just at the side of my eyes, and looked down and saw... everything else.

So from that moment, I'm thinking, "It's a dream." Has to be. Being in high school and not knowing where you're supposed to be is a classic dream scenario. And yet it was too long and painful to be anything but reality.

Eventually the hallways emptied out and I just walked around. I haven't been to this place since graduation but it's exactly as I remember it. I'm trying to pretend I didn't see what I thought I saw, and yet I'm aware of a pair of straps over my shoulders, underwire around my ribcage... among other things.

I go into the Guys' Room. It actually smells worse than I remember. I look at myself in the mirror and think... who am I? What am I? Am I really a...

Tactfully placing my hands in certain places confirmed that.

I didn't have any time to worry though.  I heard the door open. Before I could think, some guys come in, two older kids whose names I don't know.

"What are you doing in here?" one asks.

I stammer, "I... I don't know."

"Well get out! I gotta piss!"

I rush past them and run down the hall. The vice principal, Mr. Connelly stops me. "No running. Where are you supposed to be?"

I don't know how to answer that. He asks if I have a schedule in my backpack. Of course, I think. I'm wearing a backpack. I didn't even realize. (Once I had it off it became apparent how it was awkwardly pinching my breasts together.)

We find the schedule. That was how I learned my name.

From there I spent the day shuttling myself through classes... it sounds weird to just go along with it but in a scenario like that it helps to have a piece of paper telling you where you are supposed to be. The hard part was in class, being cornered by some of Jessa's friends and being expected to act like she would, in response to their small talk. Luckily, teenage girls of any age tend to be a little self absorbed so I skated by. But by the tine 3:00 rolled around I was like a man in the desert who finally got a drink. Little did I know that was only partial relief.

Eventually, I found my way home.. to Jessa's house. I ate dinner with her family, saying as little as I could get away with, still confused and uncomfortable as hell. I went upstairs to bed at 9 - a little drowsy at most but trying to coax myself to fall asleep and end this. I slept in the same clothes I was wearing - a baggy tee shirt and jean shorts. After lying there for a minute trying to figure out all the different ways I was uncomfortable, I remembered I was wearing a bra under all this, so once I got that off (it took some doing) I actually slept good that night, but I felt weird and achey in the morning.

I was pulled out of my rest at about 7:30 by Jessa's mom sticking her head in the door and demanding I get downstairs for 8. It took me a minute to realize I was still here. I had pinned my hopes on waking up in the right place.

I would have preferred to just go as I was, in the same clothes as I wore the day before but I felt extremely dingy in them. So off came the top and shorts. Looking down at the sight of this person... it was as unglamorous, unsexy of a view as I've ever seen. It's just a body. Imperfect and squishy. Very different from mine. I had this distinct, gross feeling I was seeing something I shouldn't be by looking this much.

I used the same bra, figuring... out of everything, what difference did that make? I cringed when I realized I would have to put on a fresh pair of underwear but honestly the alternatives seemed way worse. At least there was a good supply of clean ones in her drawer. Considering I have never worn panties before, I guess the options weren't too bad - modest, functional, basic fabrics. It's weird to me how light and thin they are and tightly they hug the body, but, um... I guess it's right for her. Or me now. I did all of this without looking down again. I figured if I had to look later I would but if I can avoid it, I will.

I rolled on some deodorant, dressed myself in as unflattering of clothes as I could find within a few moments of searching, and went along for the ride on my second day. I was starting to realize this arrangement might be permanent.

More about "me"

I could probably tell you a lot about what it's like to be "a girl" now that I've been in one's body for half a week, but I will start by telling you something very specific about this girl... she is tired.

Except when she's not. Sometimes I feel super energetic and engaged or manic, and then I will just crash. Case in point last night. I was up late preparing myself to spill my guts to you and then I got as far as I did and I just... needed to stop. I hit post and went up to bed and flopped down. It's just as well. School starts at 8:15, I can't be up until 3 AM writing. As it is dragging myself through a day is tough probably even on a full night's sleep.

I can, however, start at 11, when everyone else in the house is asleep.

I haven't "written" much more than an Amazon review since graduating university so I don't know how to formulate my thoughts, and I think maybe my mind is a little chaotic (is that biological? Do I have Jessa's... brain somehow with my mind?) I have a lot of things I want to tell you about what this has already been like. But between trying to sort out a direction and typing with these stubby little fingers, things are slow going. So this might come out in bits and pieces.

I need to explain just what I mean when I say I am "a girl." Because that can mean a lot of different things, that much is clear from just looking around the school hallways.

I want to be... what's the word... tactful here. Jessa is not the homecoming queen. Which suits me fine. She's not going to attract a lot of attention, although knowing what I know about how people think when they grow up I have a hunch maybe she'll grow into her looks. She has just kind of a pale, freckly face with some baby fat. She's a little chubby, with a soft belly flab and... well, kind of a big behind and thick thighs. Hey, I don't mean to judge but I have been dressing it all week, I know from where I speak. My point is, shallow horny teenage guys aren't going to be looking at me much like this, which suits me fine.

It goes to show that all this is relative. I bet her dimensions aren't that different from mine, but I was always skinny for a guy. I've never felt "fat" a day in my life. But something about her figure, or maybe just the way her clothes fit her, highlights that aspect of her appearance.

Let's see, what else. Wild ginger hair everywhere. After I showered, I found a ton of strands clinging to me in uncomfortable places.

I'm gonna stop right now. Yes, of course I showered. What would you do after two days in a hot classroom in a strange pubescent body? It would be more disgusting not to shower. Once I realized this was not a dream and I was not going to get put right back, I had no choice.

I... didn't really look, but I didn't not look, and I definitely... touched, enough.

She's the same age as me. I mean, born the same year. Does it matter that I'm from the future and older?

I didn't enjoy it, any more than a regular shower. Which means it was relaxing and refreshing... in the normal shower way. Whatever. It's the body I'm in. I deserve the leeway to take care of it at least. 

But yeah, okay, now I know what it's like to have boobs. I am not a fan. Of having boobs that is -- normally I like them a lot. These are not big... comparatively, based on my life experience... but going from having none to having some is a big change. They're sensitive and constantly sore. They hurt just being there sometimes, especially when I've had a bra on all day. Taking it off is a great feeling. But with or without the bra it's one level of discomfort or another.

I can't stop noticing them. When I move, they move, sometimes the opposite direction. Wearing a backpack, running, going down stairs... lying on my back. They just won't stop... boobing. And they're very itchy but if you scratch them ugh look out. 0/10, do not recommend.

Like I said, they're little, but they cause trouble. And let's not even get into the nipple situation.

And of course I no longer have.. um... well let's say I am missing some key components. They are sorely missed. I really do feel incomplete without them there. That said, the feeling of "nothing" between the legs is... if I can put a positive spin on it... maybe "amusingly novel?" I mean, this is something I never thought I would experience. As long as its not like this forever, there are worse things. Just don't tell 15-year-old me I said so.

Um, what else. I haven't shaved in the whole time I've been here, obviously. My face is just naturally smooth now. That's weird to me - I usually had a beard the last few years. Jessa actually has naturally hairy forearms though. Light, fluffy red hairs. I feel like she may get teased for that, but kids can be so stupid. I'm also starting to see stubble come in in my armpits. No leg hair though... yet.

There's more I could probably tell you but I've had enough of a hard time coughing this much up. I'm sure I'll learn more. Tired now. G'night.

Help

This is so strange to be typing but I was tossing and turning feeling like if I didn't I was going to lose my sanity. I feel like putting it into words might give me some form of control but let's face it, there's no "control" here I'm... caught up in something a lot bigger and freakier than I could ever imagine.

I thought about putting it down on paper - I found a diary and even brought the pencil to the page but I stopped. It wasn't mine to write in, even though it is... kind of. I've never been a 'diary' person anyway. It seems weird to spill all your thoughts and fears (and anxieties) to nothingness.

Oh, but putting them out on the internet is any better?

I don't know. But I thought it was the better option of the two and if I did nothing, it would just eat away at me. So I logged onto the creaky old PC I saw in the "home office" - god, didn't people use passwords? - and signed up for this blog. I chose it because I knew that it would still be around in the future.

I'm not where I'm supposed to be.

My name is Andrew Gillen. I'm 29 years old, I'm from Toronto, and it is December 2016.

At least up until two days ago, that was true.

But if you're reading this... I'm not in Toronto. I'm actually in my hometown of Lakeville, Ontario, 45 minutes west of the city. And it's not 2016...

It's 2002.

I've gone back in time.

The last thing I remember is, I was walking home to my apartment from my company Christmas party. I was maybe not paying attention to where I was going, maybe I wandered into an intersection and got hit by a car or something. Maybe I had a stroke. It was like I got spun around and knocked on my ass and when I sat up, the lights were on and it was the middle of the day and I was here. I told myself all day that this was just some crazy ass dream but it's way too real, I can't deny it. The faces are too clearly people I remember. The sights and sounds and smells. Very detailed, very familiar.

I'm in high school again guys.

And... I'm not me.

I'm someone named Jessa Gilbert.

Same age. Same school. Hell, she's only a few letters off from me in the alphabet, which is maybe significant or maybe not. But I've never heard of this person. I don't remember her at all. I don't know anything about her life. But I've been living it for two days now.

I'm a frigging... girl. A teenage girl. In the 2000's.

Help.