Hi Stacey

Hi, Stacey!

I’ve been living this hedonistic artist life all week. Dern is out of town for a family emergency, which I am deeply infused with. I am half where he is in my mind all the time, wishing I could do more. I send flurries of supportive texts and remind him to eat and pepper his day with old photos of our hamster. Because this is something he has to do nose to the grindstone, I think me being there would actually be more stressful. If there was a way I could teleport to him for twenty minutes a day, I’m sure that would be ideal. But instead he’s out there alone doing this hardest thing he’s ever done, that many people could ever do. I am so incredibly proud of him. I love him more every day. I thank the higher power for him.

I guess to be on theme with the point of this blog is to posit, huh did you have anything to do with Dern? I remember making a check-list of what I’d need from a future boyfriend in my high school livejournal. At some point I think I found it again, realized I had captured a manifestation of that post in Dern. From the moment I got off the plane in Tucson, back in 2005, I knew I’d have to live in Arizona. And then I chose to go there for grad school, without ever even visiting campus. I didn’t know how brave I was. Sometimes Dern and I wonder, what was that pull I felt? I still love the desert, but it felt almost holy the way I knew I had to be there. We wonder, was it our hearts somehow?

Anyway, Dern is the best, but it’s been nice being alone at home this week. Started Sunday, when I got too blitzed at the Dashboard/Goo Goo Dolls concert then walked down to the pie shop for friends and mozz sticks. But all week, I haven’t been scurrying in the mornings. Very odd for me. I’m a lifelong morning scurrier. Usually to beat the rush to the cafe or get the breakfast in the college dining room, or to sit with Dern for a bit. This week I am sort of slow to move, get on my mini trampoline, listen to the playlist I made for my new play. Maybe I start writing, maybe I don’t. I’ve been sending more emails. Kind of for fun. I feel like I’m in my early 20s again. Staying up until 2, falling asleep at the computer. There are no term papers on the other side of this though, just ideas for blog posts. Too many to write.

I didn’t do the dishes for five days, I’ve gotten Burger King three times. For some reason I did a few annoying errands yesterday even though I had a lot of other “more important” things to do. It’s what felt right. I closed my old bank account. Crossing the street I saw a very old woman wearing a big hat that looked like a cake. I yelled over, nice hat! She said so exuberantly, “Thank you! It’s my birthday!” I made spare keys, really cutting up with the locksmith about the whole ordeal. I asked if he preferred cash or card and he said he didn’t care, I was the boss. I said, oh no oh no I can’t be the boss! I don’t know anything about keys or (gesturing to the huge safes on sale) safes! He smiled, winkingly, said, “Perfect. Me Neither.” As I left I called back, See you at the office! And he really laughed.

Had to get orange juice at 7/11 too. Not sure if I’m actually on the verge of illness or if I just haven’t been sleeping enough. The woman at the counter was asking about Tootsie Rolls, which the cashier had never heard of. We all got into it, what a Tootsie Roll is. I didn’t know they were still relevant. The woman explained her son was asking for some, none of us had a guess as to why. She asked if I knew how to get one. I made a very grave face and delivered the news, “I’m pretty sure they’re exclusively available in candy dishes at the bank.” She stayed solemn with me, and then I watched as the “oooh you!” crept across her face.

Last night I read a lot of my teenage blog. It’s so incredibly cringe and also so incredibly impressive. I feel for that teen girl. I am seen by that teen girl.

As you can tell, Stacey, I’ve sort of thrown formality out the window with you. It’s something I’m working on in general with my writing–not being so uptight. I’m prolific–at least that’s what everybody says. My friend Dan said it just yesterday. If only they knew! How much I write that no one even ever sees. Full plays, screenplays, a million half-done posts and substacks. It is the thing I most am, a writer.

There have been very bizarre things happening, Stacey. One, the loom of fascism–becoming more real every day. Two, a school shooting, overshadowed by the murder of a problematic right wing man. Notably, similar to the plot of my play. Then, sort of, three: I believe Taylor Swift is revealing something incredible soon, which is similar to the plot of my novella.

Maybe I’ve mentioned this to you before, Stacey. Apologies if I have. When people ask what super power I’d have–classic ice-breaker question–I’ve had the same answer for many years. Flying seems obnoxious, invisibility seems too tempting. I decided long ago, I would wish for irresistible handwriting. I could get anything I wanted or needed, just by writing it down. My typical example: going on a White House tour, me scribbling on a scrap of paper, “Bring this to the president.” Then adding a second note for him: “end fossil fuel drilling today” or “legalize gay marriage.”

So what if all this is a simulation, Stacey? What if I’ve been writing to you (the internet) since I was 14–all my hopes and dreams and schemes…and you have been enacting them.

If so, I’d assume you are my friend. …But you may be my enemy–dangling what I think I want right in front of me then ripping it away. Or, maybe you’re just acting out of compliance to codes. Let me know, if you can. I’d really like to be friends, but if not, the third option is just fine! I don’t think it’s worthwhile to have me as an enemy. There are such bigger fish to fry, Stacey. And I like you! Even though we may or may not have ever “met.” I like you because the truth is I kind of like almost everyone.

Waiting to hear from you.

xoxo

Alice