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.