Three important emails from 2005
I'm dying of:
mean people on the street. This morning a hobo looked up at me and said, "You're not that pretty. You need to lose weight." I wanted to say, "You're a hobo," but I couldn't bear to.
your emotionlessness. It's infuriating me. I need some passion or sadness or regret!! I feel utterly insane about you-worked up and tied in knots-coming out of my apathy like from the closet. I'm vigorous and hungry and feeling knawed at. You get off the phone so fast. You don't say, "I wish" anymore. Has your heart grown cold, dead, black and stone?? I'm going to beat you move far away if you don't start loving me like you're supposed to.
Sean.
this job. I have approx. one hour and 20 minutes of work to do in 8 hours. I forgot my wallet today, which means I have to be buzzed in, embarassingly, because I don't have my simplex card.
I can't remember the last time I wasn't tired.
my weight. As the woman said, I need to lose weight. I'm not that pretty.
As I see it, I can do something about the latter two. What sucks is I can't do anything about the job until I hear something from Penn Press. I really want to take classes there for free and my chance of getting a job there would be severly limited if I quit this job now for a million reasons. I feel so stuck, stuck, stuck stuckstuckstuckstuckstuckperiod.
STUCK is SUCK with a t.
you make me a drama queen, stoneheart.
______________________________
Lowtalker,
I really hope your throat is feeling better.
Guess what!??!!>!??!?!?!:MOIN@!!"?!?!?!
Guess.
Okay fine, I'll tell you.
IT'S ONLY 9 DAYS UNTIL WE ARE DRIVING DOWN TO WVA. That's it. 9. Nine. Neuf. Nueva. Oh baby, baby, baby.
So today is Alison's last day and I am sad. I also have a lot of work to do which makes me pretty sad. Plus, Sco threw up on the train this morning and I left my wallet at home in Mahopac, so I have to meet my dad in Yonkers again tomorrow. And I need to show picture ID to get into my interview today at 2:30. Hahaha.
You know what I say to all of that? Nine. I say nine days until cabins, love, hiking, good food and long showers and ipods filled with thought and taste and a nice readjustment and laughing hard and eating hard and sunrises and fires.
I'm going to get back to work. I hope your final went/ goes well. I'm sure it will. I'll let you know how the interview went.
Much love,
J
_________________________________
Of course I remember. I was laying stomach down on my bed in Taylor Hall and I was thinking I knew what was going to happen. I was trying to decide if it's what I wanted and then you said it and I went blank.
I remember how Ron IM'd me and how it was so easy to sit next to you and how I searched the whole night for your shoes on the stairs and followed you everywhere on the sly, and how we talked about reading and fishing and you made it seem so normal that Tony was making out next to us. I remember how I wrote out what I was going to say when I called you the first time and how I didn't think you were going to call me back, and how you called me back when I was at a makeup counter with my mom and Linds in the Allentown Mall and I hopped from side to side afterwards to make them laugh and to release the nervous energy in my belly.
I remember even more about sitting on the bridge in the park and telling you I liked you all the way to 17th street and you said you liked me out of allentown all together. I remember junior year and feeling very sad that you might think about failure when you saw me at Muhlenberg, and very afraid I would associate your breath with my panic. Doesn't that seem so ass silly now? And I remember at the end of senior year, feeling like the only thing tugging me together when I was falling apart on grad day (a.k.a. wake up call of my life day) was knowing I wasn't losing you, and that, if anything, we were going to get better and better. Let's try this again.
Love.
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