Postcards From the Edge
I AM A LITTLE FRAZZLED RIGHT NOW.
It is nothing major, it is just that I have had A LOT (A LOT) going on, and I am having trouble keeping up with everything, and so in an effort to kind of, you know, streamline things, I am just going to post a series of notes that I have been meaning to write to people/things/entities. Hope y’all don’t mind.
Dear People Who Have Won Paintings:
Did I say I would send them last week? HA HA! That is what I said, but what I meant was that I would send them this week, you know, the week that is this one, because I am kind of AN IDIOT and did not calculate the amount of work I would have the first week back after vacation.
Now that things have calmed down, however, I can finish y’all’s paintings, and they will be in the mail by the end of this week. Pinky swear! Or you can come and hit me with a stick, and I won’t even complain.
(As long as it is not a very big stick.)
And, for people who are interested in paintings on eBay: yes! We will do that, too, and donate the money to somewhere. But it will probably be next week (see: work, above). So just keep that in mind. Smoke on your pipe and put that in!
YOU GUYS, DID I MENTION THAT I AM A LITTLE FRAZZLED RIGHT NOW? If I was not frazzled, I would never use an expression like, “Smoke on your pipe and put that in.” What am I talking about, exactly? Did I just make a pop culture reference…from 1961? YES I DID.
Anyway. Kisses, and I will mail you your winnings ASAP.
Doxie Who Is A Bad Procrastinator, Don't Tell My Mom.
I am sorry I forgot to watch you. Did anyone wear anything good? Did anyone come dressed as a swan? Did anyone come dressed as a ballerina? Did anyone come dressed as a ballerina swan? I may never know, and that makes me…actually, I’m pretty neutral about it.
Catch you next year! Maybe!
Doxie Who Was Watching Alias On DVD, Because She Never Watched That Show Before And It Has Taken Over Dukay And Doxie’s Lives Entirely.
I HATE YOU. When our friend Tex convinced Dukay that we just had to see you, that we would start at Season 1 and work our way through your many episodes, we decided to comply, because there is no 24 right now, and that is pretty much a national tragedy. But KNOW WHAT? YOU MAKE NO SENSE, ALIAS.
Listen, what...what do you want to be? Do you want to be like 24? Or do you want to be like the X Files? Because WE CANNOT FIGURE YOU OUT, and one minute you are kind of making sense with the spy-talk, but then the next minute there is a Prophecy, and people who are 900 years old and not yet dead, and it is all JUST A LITTLE CONFUSING.
But nothing, NOTHING is as confusing as your staunch refusal to give Sidney A FUCKING GUN.
ALIAS. WHY DO YOU NOT GIVE SIDNEY A GUN. HOW COME DOES SHE ALWAYS HAVE TO KICK PEOPLE. WE WOULD ALL SAVE SO MUCH TIME IF SHE JUST SHOT THEM.
This is really making me mad, Alias. I am shouting at you, and I don’t want to shout. But I would really, really appreciate it if you made, I don’t know. SOME FUCKING SENSE.
Wait, it turns out I am not done: WHY DID THEY EVEN BOTHER TRAINING HER WITH A GUN? WE SEE THAT EVERY OPENING CREDITS BUT WHEN SHE IS ACTUALLY FACING BAD PEOPLE SHE NEVER HAS A GUN.
It is driving me up a wall.
Not that this will stop us from watching four episodes per night.
Doxie Who Is About Four Years Behind Everyone Else On Her Television Viewing, Do You Want To Make Something Of It?
Dear Security Lady Who Sits Downstairs In The Front Desk Thing:
This is...uh, this is kind of uncomfortable, so I’m just going to jump right in. I’m the girl who you think is a total idiot. Hello!
I want you to know that it is not entirely my fault. Yes, okay, it is mostly my fault, but not entirely, because see, this is...this is what happened.
I come in, every morning, and every morning, you say…something to me. I...I don’t know what you’re saying. I’m really sorry. You are kind of a mutterer, and that’s FINE, it’s TOTALLY OKAY, but please note that I am kind of deaf and I just have no earthly idea at what it is you are trying to convey.
And the first couple of times, you would say, “Mrffffurmmff” and I would say, “I’m sorry?” and you would say, “Mrffffurrrmuff” and I would say, “Come again?” and you would say, “MRFFFFURMMMF” and I would smile widely and say, “GOOD MORNING!”
And then I would run to the elevator, thereby avoiding any follow-up discussion. Because I have no idea what you are saying to me.
And, it would seem like you are wishing me a good morning, but you say pretty much the same thing when I come in after lunch. “Mrfffummf,” you will say. Only sometimes you say it like a question, and then I hear only, ““Mrfffummf?” and then you look at me expectantly.
In the beginning, I answered “yes” or “no”. But I could tell that sometimes, I was getting the answer wrong. Sometimes I would say no, with conviction, and you would look at me like I had lost my mind.
So I switched to yes. This produced similar results. Now I just grunt at you. I GRUNT AT YOU. I AM SO SORRY.
The thing is, I don’t know what’s wrong with me, Security Lady Who Sits Downstairs In The Front Desk Thing! Everyone else can understand you. I see you engaging in long conversations with other people. What is really amazing, is that I can understand what you are saying when you talk to them. Sometimes I feel like butting into your conversations and announcing, “ME TOO” or anything, ANYthing that will let you know that I am not being purposefully idiotic.
Listen, I am sorry that I make noncommittal noises when you see me. Sometimes when our eyes meet, I look heavenward and make an exhausted sound, and then you laugh. And I want to take your hands in mine, and we can marvel together that we live in a world where we need no words, where my general sentiment of “Whew, it’s hot/cold/wet/dry out there, and boy do I not want to go back to work” can be conveyed with facial expression and shrugging alone. A world where you will not dissolve into laughter as soon as the elevator doors close behind me. Which I am QUITE SURE THAT YOU DO, because…what the hell? WHY CAN’T I UNDERSTAND YOU?
Anyway. See you soon. I’ll be the one grunting.
Doxie Who Pretty Much Thinks That This Covers Everybody At The Moment. But Who Is Probably Wrong.
Oh, and P.S. To My Comments Counter Thing:
What the hell is the matter with you? Why do you say "zero" when I can very clearly see that there are comments on the last entry?
Wait, actually, it's ALL the entires. You are saying that there are no comments on ANY entries. That is odd.
Are you...flirting with me?
Doxie, Who Is Pretty Sure That She's Done Now.
ALIAS, GIVE SIDNEY A FUCKING GUN.