but the loss was my gain
It was quiet in my living room today.
The Steelers game was on, and judging from the silence in the other room, Miami must have been in the lead. It was a scoreless first half, and then Miami started to win.
I got a phone call from an old friend from high school and we talked for about forty-five minutes. We caught up on who was where and what happened to this person and that and we both realized that neither of us have kept up very well with the high school clan, but they have kept up very well with each other. The same six people who were inseparable our senior year are still all living with each other, and hanging out with each other every day. I remember how difficult it was to say friends with them because if you chose to do something different on a Friday night, they would shun you for ignoring them. And once I got into theatre? Forget about it.
That Gap ad is on in the next room. If I hear “Jump, Jive and Wail” one more time, I’m gonna swing my fist into someone.
Anyway, we both decided that we were better off branching out into other relationships, since they still live pretty much were we grew up, and they still take money from their parents, and they still have the same petty arguments that they had when we were youngsters. Sometimes I envy their closeness, and then I think about the relationships I have now that started from basically nothing, and I realize how much stronger they are. And then I realize that I basically hang out with the same people now that I hung out with in college, and I guess there’s not much of a difference. Hmm..
So after the phone conversation was over, I went into the living room to check on the game. The score was 21-0, Miami.
And the house was spotless.
In Eric’s anger at the game, he had cleaned the kitchen and living room, and took out all the trash from the party the night before. I’m a little bummed they lost (for Eric’s sake), but God Bless Kordel Stewart and his three interceptions for the immaculate state of my kitchen. If this continues throughout the season, I may have my carpets steam cleaned yet. “I love this game!”
I just got a letter from the Office of the District Attorney asking for verification that a gentleman worked for my company from 1996-1997. Now, first of all I don’t have a company, and second, I have no idea who this person is. I don’t know what’s going on, and I feel very funny about it.
What if I’m a part of a big insurance scam and that’s where all my money has been going during the month? I never seem to have as much money as I think I should… and I’m sure it’s not due to my bi-weekly trips to Old Navy. What if this guy is counting on me to save him from some government conspiracy like Terry in Jumping Jack Flash? What if this guy is actually related to me in some way? What if I tell the District Attorney I don’t know him and then he sends his thug cronies to kick my ass? What if I’m involved in some mob scheme and I don’t know? Is that why someone reads my page every day from nasa.gov? What if I’m already in too deep? What if everyone I know is involved? Is that why my high school friend called today? Is that why the Steelers lost? Is that why my house is clean? How far deep does it run?
How do I know you’re just reading this page for fun? What if I’ve already told you too much? How much do you know? What do I do now? Should I run away to Montana and write a manifesto? Should I call the District Attorney and plead my innocence? Should I get my own attorney? Change my name? Change my sex? Take The Brat up on her offer? (see guestbook) Move? Stay still?
Pop Quiz, hot shot. District Attorney is on your ass and wants some questions answered. He’s got a name you’ve never heard of and he claims he worked for you. What do you do? What do you do?
Is it safe?
Oh! What if Nazi Dentists kidnap me and say I obviously knew this guy he knows too much about me to be a perfect stranger. He knows about my parents and my trip to LA and my cats and my boyfriend. He just keeps saying “Squishy” over and over again. What is the significance of that?
This letter– letters, there were two identical letters sent. TWO. The symbolic significance of that I can only imagine relates to some Biblical reference that I’ve forgotten along the way but I will research online later today– the letters are signed by an investigator from the Public Integrity Unit. What kind of crazy 1984 shit is that?
Is it possible that I’ve just read too many books and seen too many films? Or is it just possible that I’ve armed myself with enough knowledge to smell suspicion when I smell it?
WHAT DO YOU PEOPLE WANT FROM ME? WHY ARE YOU SENDING ME THESE THREATS? I DON’T KNOW THIS PERSON I SWEAR! I DIDN’T KNOW HIM THE FIRST LETTER AND I STILL DON’T KNOW HIM ON THE SECOND! WHY DID YOU SEND THEM BOTH ON THE SAME DAY? WHY? FINE! FINE! I’LL SPILL IT! I’LL TELL YOU WHAT YOU WANT TO HEAR…
I think I was almost abducted by aliens when I was a child. Okay? Some crazy ant-looking mother fuckers came into my bed and chased my five year-old ass around and I scared them off with my blankie. Now leave me alone! Please! I’ve told you everything.
Okay, and in the first grade I stole the smiley face stamp from Wendy that she liked so much, but it’s haunted me every day since then. I can’t even look at smiley faces, okay? I hate them.
And in the fifth grade I convinced my friend Tara that she was going to die at twenty because the Ouija board said so, but I was moving the planchette. There. Now leave me alone.
Just let me sleep in peace. Goddam the Office of the District Attorney… damn you to hell.