Last Friday was a big day.
I arrived at the office early to write email. My phone rang. “Pam, you have a delivery.”
At the front desk, there’s a delivery of roses in all different colors. It’s beautiful. Suzanne says, “Now, I’ve had some experience with this. I really want these to be from your husband, but I know they’re from your agent.”
She’s right. Read more
My thoughts are with those dealing with Katrina. I used to live in Hinds County, Mississippi, and I know what it’s like to wait out a storm, wondering at what point you have to evacuate.
When I get to work in the morning, there’s usually the latest draft of that week’s script on the floor just outside my office. Balancing my gym bag, my purse, my computer bag and a cup of coffee, I bend over to pick it up. Only today I noticed that when I stood back up, script in hand, I involuntarily groaned. Because of my knees. I don’t like this recent development in my life. I’m going to pretend it’s because I’ve been very good at going to the gym in the mornings, and not because it’s another fun-fact of turning thirty. I got carded last night. And three times last week. Clearly I am no longer talking to you, just reassuring myself. And that’s… okay. Read more
date: August 2, 2005 10:59:24 AM PDT
subject: (no subject)
I had A dream that I was At My House And I was Crying for mys sister that I haven’t seen in a long time.
WHAT DOES IT MEAN?
I don’t know why Meagan thinks I can interpret her dreams. I’ve never met Meagan, so I’m not sure what led her to sending me an email about her REM memories.
Just taking a shot here, Meagan, but I’m guessing you miss your sister. I know how that feels. I haven’t seen my sister in a long time. I love her very much, and whenever I stop to think about how little I’ve seen her since I left for college, it is heartbreaking. If you count up all the hours and lined them up consecutively, perhaps we’ve seen each other for about a month in the past twelve years. It’s not enough time. I constantly feel like I’m missing out on her life, and there’s nothing we can really do about it. I want her to succeed, she wants me to succeed, and we don’t want to live the same kind of life. We never have. From when we were little, as much as we loved each other, we never wanted to be all that much alike. It makes sense that we shot out in wildly different paths. Both of us would accuse the other one of taking the harder road. Read more
Why are you laughing at me?
Why did you answer the phone like that?
Shut up. Did I sound like that?
The morning after the wedding, we woke up and listened to this song in bed and thought about how happy we were and how perfectly the wedding went and how lucky we were to have these amazing friends and family who braved the rain and snow and winds and this strange waterfall that happens on our front steps when it pours outside. Read more
It’s a very strange sensation, walking into my mom’s new house, seeing everything I associate with home (the dog, the bookshelves, the large dining room table, Mom) in a place I’ve never seen before in my life. It’s exactly like when you dream that you’re in your house but it’s not your house but it is your house. Dan’s standing there, in my house, next to my mom, which is very dream-like indeed, since I think they hadn’t seen each other in four years. Dan’s petting the dog, who is in a backyard I’ve never seen before, and Mom’s wearing an ankle bracelet I’ve never seen before. She lives in Connecticut now and I had nothing to do with this move. Her house is still in boxes. She shows me the bracelet — it’s from high school, when she went on a date with a boy. The boy is now a man and he is back in her life. She smiles as she holds it, her eyes getting a little dreamy. Read more