I want to thank you for all of your support. A comment here (why not three, though? you guys are so lazy) and a comment there (just one comment? c'mon! help a sister out!)...A gchat detailing your favorite parts of each entry...wow! I am so lucky and I want you to know that I appreciate it.
We've shared seasons together...first winter, then spring, then summer, then fall...then another winter. UGH. Winter is the worst isn't it? It's so dark all the time and f-ing cold...but then f-ing hot when you get inside. How is a girl supposed to look fresh under those conditions?! HOW?!
We've also shared memories. Not YOUR memories. If I cared about those I would a) ask you b) ask someone else (I'm a girl after all...we're not always the best at direct communication...*starts crying*...) c) read YOUR blog d) I don't think there's actually another option here but I already typed the 'd)' and I don't really want to go back and press 'backspace' (yeah it's 'backspace on this computer...isn't that weird?)
So what's the point of this?, you might be asking yourself. I'll tell you what the point is. Seriously I will. Just wait one second...Just hold on...hold on...
I was on the subway this morning and a homeless woman (look, I'm not being judgmental here, ok? She SAID she was homeless) got on and started 'the shpeel'. You know what I'm talking about, New Yorkers.
'Hi my name is ___ ___. Because of circumstances beyond my control, I have become homeless. I ask that you donate whatever you can...'
etc. etc. I don't want to trivialize the shpeel because I do feel badly if this woman was telling the truth. Contrary to my CT upbringing and my usual level of snobbery, I do have a heart and I feel badly if she is homeless and has to ask people for money on the subway to get by. I mean...that sucks.
What surprised me though, and the reason I'm writing this letter, is the end of the ____ ____'s shpeel. She ended it with 'Have a safe day'.
'Oh ok, thanks mom!' I said. But then I realized something...this woman wasn't my mom! Who tells you to 'be safe' or 'have a safe day' besides your mom? That's just not normal. Does ___ ___ anticipate that I'm going to run into some kind of danger? Is she psychic?! That's awesome! I kind of want to get an in depth reading sometime soon. Wait a second...if SHE going to hurt me?
And that's where I left off. I could think of no other conclusion than the fact that this woman, ___ ___, is going to off me at some point today. Sure I'm young, but I've lived a lot in my 24 years.
Again, I want to reiterate my gratitude and leave you with this quote:
'Drop it like it's hot'--S. Dogg
Love,
Beck E.
P.S. Please remember me like this:
3 comments:
I feel hoodwinked! Bamboozled! I saw the title, and assumed that you were never going to write another blog entry. Yes, I do see the wussy wuote marks around goodbye, but that was not enough to stop my panic attack. When I got to the end of the letter, I wished so much you were here. Not so I could hug you. So that I could bitch slap you across the face for toying with my emotions! You are mean. There. I said it. So if this woman isn't psychic, and you aren't dead, you better write more entries. What else can I read on the can?
Are you dead yet?
*checks pulse* nope. not YET...but there's an hour and forty five minutes left in the day
Post a Comment