an open letter to eric

Hey, Shmoops.

What a weekend, huh?

It feels weird to be back at work, since I feel like I should be working at the festival office or helping someone hang a poster or banner or something, but I’ve gots to make the cash, yo, so we can see your little brother graduate next month.

I just wanted to thank you for a wonderful weekend.  It had the perfect mix of everything.

I feel really good this week, since my part of the show is over.  It’s time to sit back and see how it goes.  I’m glad there’s just the tech rehearsal left.  Tech rehearsals I can do… they have that mystery about them to the actors, so they sit still and wait to be told what to do.  Not like in college, where everyone knew that the actors in a tech rehearsal could be replaced by puppets and no one would care a bit.  Here they still think it’s sort of a really big process that they are a part of.  I’m happy that it still holds that power.  I can get the rehearsal finished in time.

So, yesterday was pretty big, eh?  Easter.   Daylight Savings.  Our two-year anniversary.  My birthday.  The festival started.

I am a little bitter they took an hour away from my birthday this year.  It made my surprise birthday party shorter (thanks again for throwing it.  I really was surprised… I knew there was a reason you were making me stare at the dumpsters… and acting all weird at the show…)

I’m so excited about the Furby’s that are on their way to our house.  I’m sure Taylor and Lillith are going to hate them.  I really appreciate all you guys getting together to get them for me.

I’m also stoked about birthday week.  A whole week of getting random birthday presents?  What else could a gal ask for?

That and I can’t wait for our new chair to get here this week.  I’m glad we bought that together.  I’m glad we didn’t talk ourselves out of it.  Right now I picture long evenings curled around its big soft arms, falling asleep in its warm embrace, my feet just kicked out on the ottoman…

I’m sure in three months all I’ll see in my head is the image of Weldon knocking over an ashtray into the seat over and over and over.

Maybe we should have sprung for that extra stain protection insurance….

Speaking of insurance, I saw an accident on my way to work this morning.  The truck in front of me slammed right into the car in front of him.  They both pulled over immediately, so I didn’t know if I was supposed to as well since I saw it, or if I should just go right on.

An argument took place.  Not on the street, mind you, but in my head.

[scripty]
LEFT BRAIN
Woah.

RIGHT BRAIN
We should stop.

LEFT BRAIN
I don’t think we are supposed to stop if they are taking care of it.

RIGHT BRAIN
What if truck guy lies and says it was car guy’s fault?

LEFT BRAIN
Well, I really didn’t see car guy–

RIGHT BRAIN
Whatever, you so saw truck guy not even slow down until he was right behind car guy.  Totally truck guy’s fault.

LEFT BRAIN
Well, what if we stop and we’re the only one’s to stop and then they get all mad and pull out guns and shoot each other and then shoot me?

RIGHT BRAIN
This is Austin.

LEFT BRAIN
It’s getting to be a dangerous place.  If Eric was in the car, I’d stop.

RIGHT BRAIN
Well, it’s the end of the feeder road, are we getting on the highway or pulling over?

LEFT BRAIN
If we stop, we might help someone who’s getting screwed.

RIGHT BRAIN
Which would be the proper, civil thing to do

LEFT BRAIN
But if we kept going we’d actually make it to work on time.

RIGHT BRAIN
Really?

LEFT BRAIN
Not kidding.  We’re making great time.  We’re beating the accident traffic.

RIGHT BRAIN
You should have mentioned that earlier.

LEFT BRAIN
Sorry.

RIGHT BRAIN
Besides, if there’s some sort of problem you know they will put up a sign that says, “If you saw blah, blah, blah, call blah, blah, blah.”

LEFT BRAIN
Probably.

RIGHT BRAIN
Did you get the license plate of truck guy?

LEFT BRAIN
Something with an “X” and a “4”

RIGHT BRAIN
Great.  Let’s go.
[/scripty]

So, you know, I kind of feel guilty this morning, but I got here on time and all, and I’m not falling asleep in my coffee like I thought I would be after last night.

I couldn’t sleep last night at all.

I think I wanted it to always be our two year anniversary.  It was so nice, spending the afternoon with you, going to dinner, thinking about our life up until now, having other people say nice things to us…

I really enjoyed just being with you.

I always do.

I don’t think I thought this festival thing through.  Tonight if we go to the after party we won’t get home until after one.  That means we will get less and less sleep as the week progresses…  it’s just one week, though.  I can probably manage, right?

But what if my truck guy/ car guy karma catches up with me and since I didn’t stop then I have a horrible week?  I can’t think about it now.  I made a quick decision, and maybe it was the wrong one, and maybe it was the right one… ick.  It’s too late.  It really is.

Sorry I was so mean to you this morning.  I hate it when the alarm isn’t set to play music.  The sound of the alarm itself makes my spine shrivel and my stomach drop.  I hate it.  It’s too loud and too shrill.  I’m sorry I told you that you had lost clock privileges forever.  I’m sorry I climbed over you to turn off the alarm.  I think I hurt your knee.  Really sorry.

Love.  Two years, all that.  Don’t forget.

Break a leg on your show tonight.  I’m very proud of you.  I know you’ll do well.

And don’t be mad that some people didn’t call for my birthday.  It’s not everyone’s job to remember.  I think it’s really sweet that you get so protective over me mentally.  Like you want to shield my brain from hearing anyone say anything bad about me, or be able to erase things that hurt me before.  I’ve never really had someone like that before.  It’s a nice feeling– being protected emotionally.

Not that I live in a shell or anything, but that I feel no matter how hurt I get, you’ll be there to show me what’s so good right in front of me that I was overlooking.

I’m so glad we met two years ago.  I’m so glad we fell in love.  I think taking you to the health center when you twisted your ankle was the smartest move I’ve ever made.  I knew I was making a friend.  I had no idea I was making a partner.  A team.

And maybe I should have skipped the drive to Houston and just went to see The Graduate with you.

Maybe I should have kissed you sooner.

Maybe I should have noticed you in my voice class before I did.

Then I could have had more time.  I want more time.  I want more memories.

And damn, you make me laugh.  Thanks for letting me share my stories with the world.  Not everyone would be so understanding.  I’m sorry they brought the nose hair trimmer out of the bathroom at the party the other night.  I’m sorry everyone knew the story.  I forget that not everyone who reads this lives in California or Canada.  There’s a lot that read it that we see every day.

I’m wearing the pants you hate today.  The ones you think make me look like a marching band line leader.  I’m wearing them because it is my birthday week, and I am going to get away with as much as I can.  I may just wear that poofy ponytail holder that you hate every day.  I might hold Taylor in a cuddle until he just hates having fur.  I may watch Grease three times.

Or, I may get my ass back to work and then go do all the festival shit I have to do.  I told you this festival was big.

In fact, I’m sure I’m supposed to be faxing something somewhere right now.

Have a good day, my little computer geek, and I can’t wait to see what presents I get today.

(oh– we need trash bags.  One of us should pick them up on the way home.  Do people buy trash bags during their birthday week?  I don’t know, it’s all so new to me…)

Love,
pamie