Dear Jade, October 27, 2003
How are you? How’s the entire state of New Jersey? I hope you’re all fine. Things here are good. Every time I turn on my computer to type, I automatically click on the “games” icon instead of Word. I guess that proves what I do the most with my computer. So, I played a game of Minesweeper just for you.
I think it’s great that you share my letters. That’s how I’m hoping to become famous. Someone that has read one my letters will think I”m brilliant. Then I’ll write a book. Then all the people who have read my letters will want to buy one of my books. And then they’ll want my autograph. And then I’ll go on a date with Billy Boyd because he finds me fascinating. Then I”ll get a stalker and Billy will defend me and find out that it was Kevin Spacey stalking me. Then we’ll star in a movie of the week all playing ourselves. Then I’ll become very rich and buy furniture that doesn’t match. Then I’ll open a restaurant. It’s all going according to my plan.
So, you’re tortured by “bp” gas stations, eh? I think it’s brilliant! I get tortured by the REAL BP! It did make me giggle to think of you giggling over the Passey painted blue and going around in my overalls pocket. (You know, there’re these characters in Terry Pratchett’s books called the Nac Mac Feegles. They’re about six inches tall, blue with bright red hair, the wear kilts and go about doing some of the funniest things! They’re all a bunch of mad Scotsmen and he writes them with their accents, one of them, Big Yan, after a fight said, “Aw crivens! I kicked meself in me own heid!” and it made me LAUGH! So...the point of all this is that now, not only is Beepie blue and riding around in my pocket, but he also has a Scottish accent.) So, see, I’m still tortured enough without the gas stations to remind me! Ah, and I wonder why I’m still single. AND aside from the gas stations you’re tortured by donut shops? I can’t imagine the torture Id’ go through if there were donut shops everywhere. I hate American doughnuts, so the shops would make me pine for France where pastries are pastries and men are dreadfully short and hairy. But at least the pastries are good.
It was The Passey’s birthday on the 15th. Jessica–I’m sure you know about Jessica–took him to dinner, bought him presents and then planned a little surprise get together at Emiline’s house. It was very nice of her. It’s what I would have done. She’s as nice as me! While there I saw B.P. put his arm around her. And I was only slightly jealous. Not a whole lot because I always worry if a guy puts his arm around me that he’ll find out just how fat I am. It’s better if he doesn’t touch me...the fat is easier to hide. (By the way, men must never, NEVER, describe the girl they’re hugging by any of the following words: squishy, spongy, mushy, pulpy, squashy or any derivative thereof.) So, I must never date a blind man because they see by touch. Anyway, back to B.P’s party, we yelled surprise when he walked in, I ate of piece of cake and went home. (That was the world’s strangest explanation of someone’s birthday.)
I have to tell you about my most recent adventure with my canopy. Remember how excited I was to have it and pretend I was a Princess? Well, last night I was DEAD tired and was trying...try, try, trying to sleep. I had a dream that these fuzzy little alien caterpillars–they really were cute, they were bright colors like yellow or fuchsia with blue stripes–anyway for some reason they kept attaching themselves to my LIPS!! ARGH! I was running and screaming and pulling alien caterpillars off of my lips! Anyway, my bladder had had enough of the dream and woke me up. I got up, did what bladder said and then, before going back to bed I sat on the edge of the canopy and pulled it out from the ceiling! POP! So, in the darkness I pulled if off of the bed and put it to the side. Then it dawned on me, the canopy was blowing in the fan (my precious white-noise maker) and brushing against my face...thus explaining the alien caterpillar-lip-lovers! I slept much better after that.
You’re not missing anything up here. It’s all the same as you remember. Well, there’s this: all the boys are chasing after about four different girls at church and all the rest of us girls are floating in the sea of flotsam like so much sea foam. Brian Tanner tried to explain it to me, but he’s a boy. He doesn’t look at the world with the right kind of hormones. He thinks the world has explanations. Silly boy.
Hey, guess what! Two boys were fighting over who got to sit by me. They both won because I have at least two sides. Anyway, I usually sit by B.P. in Brit Lit and then Stephen O’Brien (my Irish friend) sits on the other side. Well, my friend Ryan (also in that class) decided he wanted to sit by me so he sat in Stephen’s chair. When Stephen came he tried to sit in Brian’s chair but I told him, “Well, that’s Brian’s chair.” and then he pointed out that Ryan was in his chair. So, Stephen sat in Brian’s chair and I said “Well, all my life I’ve been a nerd. I never knew I was this popular.” Ryan said, “You’re a popular nerd.” And then B.P. didn’t show up to class after all. I wish he had JUST because I wanted to see what he’d do. Oh well, there might be another time. Now if only they’re fighting over who got to be my boyfriend for my birthday (I’m currently taking applications) because that’s all I really want.
Ah, I should tell you my Phil stories. Phil’s a tall, rather handsome guy that’s in my American Literature class. He wears glasses, is really smart and slightly skinny. He has nice elbowy elbows. (Why, oh why? am I obsessed with skinny elbowy elbows? I need someone to explain it to me. Seriously.) Anyway, we had a study group one night and Phil came! I got there early because I had nothing else to do and he came early, too. We talked a bit, mostly about school, nothing too exciting. But, the exciting thing is that when I decided I’d had enough and wanted to leave, he left, too! We walked out together and talked a bit and he even offered me a ride home. But my car was right there, DANG IT! I just thought about something! I should’ve had him give me a ride home and then I could’ve gotten my car later! Like I did that one day when Trent walked me home! Remember that? You were so good to go back with me to get my car!! Hee! Hee! I must have been distracted by his elbows to think straight. (The spell checker wants me to change this sentence to “His elbows to think straight must have distracted me.” Like THAT makes sense!)
Anyway, continuing. Friday I was walking up the evil hill to campus with Emiline and Cassandra and we got to the bit in front of the Commons where we all went our “weperate says” and I saw Phil up ahead of me. I said, “Bye Cassandra! Bye Emiline! I’m going to catch up to Phil!” I didn’t say it loudly, but he heard his name and turned around. We walked to class together and talked about school again. What else to say to him? I don’t know. Any suggestions? I’m sure I’ll find out he’s only 20 and then I’ll have to give up on my Phil Phantasies. What am I going to do next semester when I don’t have Phil to look at? I’m sure I’ll find someone else. (If only I were shaped like Nicole Kidman–nothing would stop me then! Oh, but then I’d marry Billy Boyd and Phil would be Phorgotten...and Kevin Spacey could still be my stalker. (By the way, this is PHUN!))
Actually, there is a boy I kind of like. But I can’t tell you. If I say it out loud it will be cursed. If I think it too loudly, it will be cursed. Heck, it’s probably already cursed! Truth is, I have only one more year before I give up hope. I decided that along time a long time ago that when I reach...a certain age...I will give up hope completely that any man will hold my hand without me having to ask him to. I asked Mandy to hold my hand and she shook it. Then I asked T.J. to hold my hand and he shook it. Finally Mandy saw what was going wrong and told T.J. how to do it right and he held my hand. It was fun to have my hand feel small for just a little while. Most of the time I feel huge. More like HUGE! Then Mandy held my hand the right was and then so did Emiline. But no one did for long. So, next year is when I give up hope that any man will spontaneously hold my hand because he wants to.
I saw a commercial for “Master and Commander” the other day. It’s the next film that Billy Boyd is going to be in. I was really excited to see the commercial, but it didn’t show Billy at all (come to think of it, it didn’t show Paul Bettany, either and he’s second billed). I’m so disappointed. I ask for so little form Paramount, Miramax, 21st Century Fox, New Line and all the others, but I do ask this: if Billy Boyd is in a film, PLEASE feature him in all commercials and include photos (of a significant size) in all magazine articles. Really, it’s not too much to ask. I demand so little and I give so much! (Seriously, I saw “Fellowship of the Rings” seven times in the theater...that’s what, $35.00. I think they owe me a little!!)
I went to the Post Office to get some stamps and the ones I asked for were all out. When the lady opened the drawer I saw some with people on it. I asked if I could have those. She pulled them out and they were football players. I said, “Ok, I’ll take those.” And she said, “Are you sure, that’s the last one?” The last one? I don’t care. Was she implying that I’m not good enough for the last sheet of “Early Football Players” stamps? Sure I have no intention of collecting them, but seriously I have some stamps that I collected that no one wants anyway! That’s the secret of the Post Office. They get you to collect stamps so you have to buy twice as many: one to save and one to send. Did she ask the person who took the last sheet of Reptile stamps–the ones I wanted in the first place–if they were worthy of the Reptiles? Maybe she should’ve taken that into consideration before she worried me over “Early Football Players”. Life’s full of inconsistencies. And I blame the Post Office.
I’ve hit a snag in lying about my age. It’s things like, “Yes, there are three high schools in Idaho Falls.” Person 2, “I thought there were four.” Me, “Yes, right, four.” And then there’s “I love this show! I used to watch it after I got home from school.” Person 2, “Really, what year did it come out?” Me, “1978.” It makes it really hard to tell people that I’m 24 when all event of my life prove otherwise. Lies, terrible confusing lies! This is also the fault of the Post Office.
Oh, speaking of conspiracies. (Were we? I don’t know and I’m typing the letter!) Bank One has sent me my replacement credit card and this wee credit card that goes on my key chain. See, what I do is hide my credit card so that if I want to use it, I have to be really sure about it, find it and then put it back. It usually gives me time to rethink my spending. Anyway, now that I have the wee one for my key chain it poses two problems...1. spending is so much more convenient, and 2. I always lose my keys so who knows who’d be shopping in my stead. See, it’s totally brilliant on behalf of Bank One. I wish I could charge interest.
I like the photo of you! It was really cute...even if it was ugly sweater day. By the way, I thought your sweaters were CUTE! But then, maybe they’re just very photogenic.
Anyway, I hope you enjoy your little pressies! And remember to have the Happiest Birthday ever!
P.S. Eddie-Phil the teddy bear with Multiple Personality Disorder says “Hi!” and “Hi!”