Three Years From Now

Dear Future Me,

Hello.

I hope you're still skinny and that you got that toe thing looked at.

Now onto business.

I need you to defriend Kristen.

I know you're probably friends with her by now, since Kristen can't stand to have anybody be mad at her for longer than two weeks.

You're probably on the best of terms, and it's all very mature.

Well, enough of that shit.

Defriend her.

I'm giving you three years, because I knew that it would take time for you two to settle back into your lives.  For both of you to move on--

By the way, I'm assuming you have a new girlfriend, and if you don't, what the hell are you waiting for?  You need to get one before you defriend her, otherwise the whole 'I've moved on with my life' thing won't make any sense at all.

This way it'll come out of the blue.  And when she notices that you've defriended her, she'll be totally blindsided.

Now, I know what you're going to say:

Why do this three years later?

I really have moved on Past Me!  I don't hate Kristen anymore!

Well who the hell cares if you do?

I DO!!!

Oh sure, time heals everything, you say?

Well I say, revenge is a dish best served cold.

Maybe you don't remember some of the things she said to us, which is why I've noted all of her insults and cruel comments on the next page.  Please review them if you feel the urge to forgive and forget.

Knowing Kristen, she has not apologized for anything she's said.  She's simply waited you out, and now rewrites history so that the entire thing was your fault.

Do NOT let her get away with that.

I am in PAIN, Future Me.

Awful pain.

And the only thing that keeps me going day after day is the knowledge that in three years, you will seek justice for me, Future Me.

So defriend.  Delete.  Destroy.

Remember:  You're not doing it for me, you're doing it for you.

Sincerely,
Yourself

She Can Sleep Through the Storm

She can close her eyes
And it's all gone

The knocking
The nasty names
The rollicking ocean outside
Her bedroom door

She can fall asleep
And it's okay

The turmoil turning in her stomach

She's a princess
In a palace
In another place and time

And somewhere there is thunder
And somewhere there is rain
But she's not privy to it
Because she's sleeping once again

She's not worried about waking up
Because she knows she can sleep
She can sleep through the storm

And the windows are all breaking
And the floorboards are pulled up
And she's getting shaken harshly
By reality and other things

She knows she shouldn't stay away so long
But what else can she do?

It's sleeping or it's screaming
It's sleeping or it's crying
It's sleeping or it's dying

So instead she'll sleep

She can count to ten
And things are quiet

She can think of sheep
And she's just fine

She can sleep through the storm
Through this storm
Through any storm

And know that when she wakes up
There'll be another storm
Waiting for her

So she sleeps
And she sleeps
And she tries to
Sleep through

It all

Testicles

Mr--

Egan--

Is that pronounced like 'again' or 'eee-gen' or 'eee-gain?'

What is it?

Does it matter?

It doesn't, I wouldn't imagine

I wouldn't imagine

That it does

Mr. Egan

I am getting a loan for a house today

And I did not bring a husband or a boyfriend or a brother or a next door neighbor

I make a good living

I make a better living than my ex-husband, all my ex-boyfriends, both my brothers, and my next door neighbor who, by the way, makes cabbage at least eight times a day, which is why I want a loan to buy a house

Now, you telling me that I'm 'risky' when I know for a fact that you approved my co-worker's loan last month--

My single MALE co-worker's loan--

I mean, Mr. Egan, have things gotten that bad in the banking industry over the past month?

Or should I have just come in here with testicles?

Oh, I'm dreadfully sorry

Does the word 'testicles' make you cringe?

It's an anatomic word

It's a correct word

It's the appropriate word for this situation, Mr. Egan

Testicles

I'm not saying 'balls'

I'm not saying 'berries'

I'm not saying 'man cubes'

There should be nothing wrong with a young woman saying the word 'testicles' to a man

I suppose if I were examining you then it would be all right, or do you only go to male doctors, Mr. Egan?

TESTICLES

It's what's separating me from getting that loan, isn't it?

My lack of testicles?

The lack of testicles in my life?

The lack of desire I have to incorporate testicles into my life?

Mr. Egan, I would like to throw you off a small building

A lovely little building

In the middle of a pool

With sharks swimming around it

That is what I would like to do

Now, if you wanted to deny me a loan because of my age, then that's fine, because I will get older, even though I am making more money than both my parents combined because, shocker, a tanning salon in Cranston does remarkably well--much better than you'd even expect, Mr. Egan

If you wanted to deny me that loan because I seem stupid, that's fine, because I can read more books.  I can go back to school.  With the money I'm making, I could open my own school and print out my own degree.

If you wanted to deny me because you're just in an awful mood, then I could live with that, Mr. Egan.  I would hate it, but I could live with it.

But the fact that you're denying me because I don't have TESTICLES is a problem I simply can't overlook.  I simply can't, Mr. Egan.  I simply can't.

I will not stand to have some misogynist tell me what I can and can't have.  Oh, I know your type, Mr. Egan.  Going home to your little trophy wife.  Groping your poor secretary every chance you get.  Whistling at girls on the corner like some cartoon wolf wearing a trench coat for no reason!

So you're going to approve that loan, or I'm going to go find a pair of TESTICLES and I'm going to bring them to your desk, Mr. Egan.

And I can't promise that they'll be attached to anything when they're dropped right next to that photo of...of...

Is that your brother you're...hugging?

Uh huh...

Okay, so maybe I was little off there about the trophy wife...

Have I mentioned I went on a date with a lovely man last night?

He's very attractive--OH!  And he has a brother...hehe...

You know what?  I'll just come back with him

Have a great day

Two Male Actors Arguing Over Who Gets to Play Medea

"Reginald, I really have to insist--"
"No, Donald, I'm afraid that I must insist--"
"Reg--"
"Don--"
"Reg--"
"Don--"
"She kills her children, Reg."
"Yes, I'm aware."
"She kills them."
"Yes."
"With a cleaver."
"Uh, I don't recall a cleaver."
"Well--"
"Were there cleavers in Ancient Greece?"
"When I envision it, there's a cleaver."
"You see, Don, that's why you can't play her.  Because you always go right to the gore."
"Oh here he is again with his psychology degree in hand."
"For you, it's all about the gore.  For me, it's about the uterus."
"What about her uterus?"
"It burns her, Don.  It scalds her."
"What was wrong with her uterus?  Was it on fire?"
"In a manner of speaking, yes."
"You can't possible play this role.  Have you ever wanted to kill children?"
"Donald, I have wanted to kill children for years.  In some of my better blind rages, I may actually HAVE killed a few children.  Albeit, not with a cleaver."
"And was your uterus on fire when you did it?"
"My emotional uterus was on fire, yes."
"Reg, there was nothing wrong with Medea's uterus.  It wasn't infected with malaria.  She kills the children to get back at Jason, and then later on, she returns to decapitate him with a hand saw."
"I'm sorry, but--a hand saw?"
"In the epilogue."
"There IS no epilogue."
"In my mind, there's an epilogue."
"In your mind, there's a dancing elephant in the corner.  What does that have to do with Medea?"
"It has EVERYTHING to do with playing Medea, you first-year acting student!"
"How dare you speak to me that way, you background stunt double!"

. . . . .

"Do you suppose he could go the traditional route and give this role to a woman?"
"Well...anything's possible."

A Long Walk Home

I'd like your arm but I'm not gonna ask
I'm too proud to act like that
I'm not afraid, I'm just unsure
I've never gone this way before

You got a story to distract me from the cold
Did I tell you it's my birthday today?
I'm three years older than my mother was when she died
I guess that means I'll be okay

I would have liked a kid by now
There's an awful lot I would have liked
But what I have is what I earned
So really how can I complain?

I wonder what this city will look like in ten years
And I wonder if I'll be here to see
I know I'm small, but I wish I wasn't always so aware of it
And how unimpactful I can be

The restaurant I love closed down this year
My best friend moved to L.A.
I got a new job across town
And moved into a smaller place

I save money by walking home
But the walk gets longer everyday
Am I the only one still here?
Still in love with this old place

There was a girl in love with a city
And the city changed its face
Now she's trying to hang on
Trying not to let the last eight years be a waste

A few too many drinks
A few too many eyes across the bar
A broken heel, a broken heart
And a walk that's just too damn far

At least too far to do alone
When I'm just talking to myself
I liked your arm but I wasn't going to ask
Instead I just slipped out the back

A long walk home ain't all that bad
It leaves you time inside your head
To decide if you want to do it again tomorrow
Or do something else instead

Discussions About the Yogurt

Jessica...

I know we've had
Discussions
About
The Yogurt

But it seems like...

Well, it just seems like
Nothing's getting through to you

The yogurt
Is mine

I buy it
I like it
I need it

It is my yogurt

I don't mind you buying yogurt

If you want to have yogurt in the fridge
My yogurt would be happy
To co-exist with your yogurt

There is plenty of room
For yogurt harmony

But I don't see enough yogurt in the fridge for two people
In fact, I see a rapidly dwindling yogurt population

And yesterday, you ate the Mint Chocolate Chip yogurt

Jessica, that brand is discontinued
They don't even make it anymore

I have been saving that yogurt for a special occasion
Or, until the 'Sell By' date
Whichever comes first

But you went ahead and ate it
So now what am I supposed to do?

I don't mind that you use my towels
I don't mind that you erase the shows I DVR 'by accident'
I don't mind that your ex-boyfriend comes over twice a week
And makes you cry, at which point I have to listen to eight hours
Of you talking about how if he'd just move out of his mom's house everything would be fine

I ADORE ALL OF THAT!

But I cannot, cannot, cannot handle
You eating my yogurt

It is MY yogurt

So please, for the last time
Leave it alone

...Oh, and the soy milk too

And you know what?  The towel thing does kind of bother--

You know what?

I'm moving out

While You're Tied Up

I'm going to Niagra Falls
Or Ptoloosa, Alabama
Not sure which yet
But one or the other

Or both
What the hell
Why not live a little?

Not like I've been living a lot up until now

I'm going somewhere, Gus
And wherever I'm going
It's nowhere you're going to want to go

Because I want someplace with color
And creativity
And cool people
Who don't barbecue every day
Even when it's raining out
Just because there's only three foods they like
And all of 'em are grilled

I've never claimed to be a poet
Or an artist
Or somebody that needs open space and air
And all that stuff

But I am someone who is sick
Of living two blocks from a strip mall
And three blocks from four strip clubs
And nowhere near anything worth looking at

So I'm going, Gus
And by the time you're done untying those knots
I gather I'll be far enough away
That you won't be able to figure
Whether or not I went to Niagra Falls or Alabama
Or Paris, France

If I were you, I wouldn't waste time looking for me

I'd spend every ounce of energy I had
Looking around for somebody dumber than me
To make your second wife

Make sure she doesn't have the gleam in her eye that I do
The one that should have told you
I wasn't going to be happy here forever

Make sure she's good and stupid
And then put a heavier ring on her finger
Than the one you put on mine
Because that one wasn't strong enough
To anchor me here, I'm afraid

Good luck and all
With your bald spot
And your bad toe

Hope those ropes aren't tied to tight

Don't wriggle too much
Or you're liable to yank off the headboard

If I were you, I'd just wait until your mistress comes by tomorrow
When she thinks I'm at work

Give her my regards

I'm taking my memories and my Rumours vinyl
And a map and a photo of my Mom

That's all

My goodness, I should have gagged you while we were married, Gus
This is the nicest you've ever been