Transplanted Life
Saturday, October 29, 2005
 
SNOW?
I did not buy a "pirate wench" costume with low-cut neckline, fishnets and heels to deal with snow in October. Sure, I was planning to wear a coat to Jen's party anyway, but this just feels like the weather gods mocking my desire for sexiness. I'm just about at the ready-to-start-dating-again point, and now it's going to be cold enough that I've got to keep my physical assets covered up most of the time.

Yeah, that's vain. I was talking to Telly about that the other day - was Michelle like that? I wasn't like that in my previous life, and in fact really didn't like girls with that sort of attitude. It's frightening to think that I've become one. Telly says Michelle liked being attractive, and he did remember her having lots of boyfriends. The thing is, it scared her. Telly says that if Shelley's life was anything like his, she became more aware of why people tended to speak unkindly about their mother. It spread to her - as soon as her breasts started to fill out, boys started taking notice, they started hearing about how everyone in town took a turn with her mother, assumed she'd be the same. And he doesn't think "I" was really the same, but that it was sometimes easier to fall into the same pattern. Michelle never told him, but Telly strongly suspects that the last guy she was involved with was a married man, probably her boss at the resort. And when she left, the popular rumor was that she was pregnant and paid off.

I don't think that's the case - there's not enough time between Michelle leaving Vermont and my waking up as her for a baby to have been carried to term, and if the FBI docs found any signs of an abortion, they didn't tell me about it.

Anyway, if that's the reputation Michelle's got, I don't think I want to meet any of her old acquaintences. But I'm all for seeing mine, and I'd better get going.

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