Re: Me
I just went out to grab the paper. You know. That whole job thing?
Is Steph
Oh, crap, the doorman’s buzzing, hold on.
East Side Floral Company
“Say it with Flowers”
1125 York Avenue • New York New York, 10028.
To: Kate Mackenzie care of Dolly Vargas. 610 East End Avenue, Penthouse A.
Thanks for everything the other night. You were great with Janice. Can we try dinner again sometime? Soon?
signed, Mitch
Sleaterkinneyfan:
Whadja get?
Sleaterkinneyfan:
Are you crazy? Don’t IM me. You’re at work, you’re going to get fired, just like me.
Sleaterkinneyfan:
Are you kidding? With you gone, Amy’s having to take on the LZs until we find a replacement. She’s got so many PAFs to get through, she can’t even find a spare moment to plan her reception. It’s killing her. I’ve never been more assured of my job security. Now spill. Whadja get????
Sleaterkinneyfan:
Oh. Flowers.
Sleaterkinneyfan:
FROM HIM??????
Sleaterkinneyfan:
Yes.
Sleaterkinneyfan:
Describe.
Sleaterkinneyfan:
Yellow roses this time. Two dozen.
Sleaterkinneyfan:
Um, if you don’t want him, I’ll take him.
Sleaterkinneyfan:
Back off! You’re married.
Sleaterkinneyfan:
Trade?
Sleaterkinneyfan:
Um, no, thank you.
Sleaterkinneyfan:
Bitch. So now what are you going to do?
Sleaterkinneyfan:
I don’t know. Look for a job?
Sleaterkinneyfan:
I MEAN ABOUT THE BOY!!!!!!!!
Sleaterkinneyfan:
Remember Professor Wingblade?
Sleaterkinneyfan:
How could I forget? You only quote him every five minutes.
Sleaterkinneyfan:
Well, remember how he said before you can learn to love someone else, you have to learn to love yourself?
Sleaterkinneyfan:
No. I never went to his stupid class. You didn’t have to. All the test questions were multiple choice and were straight out of the back of the book.
Sleaterkinneyfan:
Well, he used to say that. And the thing is . . . I think he’s right.
Sleaterkinneyfan:
God, eat some chocolate and get over it.
Sleaterkinneyfan:
I’m serious! I know it’s wrong to define yourself by your job, but, Jen, I kind of did, and now, without it . . . I just don’t know why I’m even here. On this planet, I mean.
Sleaterkinneyfan:
Oh my God. You SO need chocolate.
Sleaterkinneyfan:
I’m serious. I don’t want to make another mistake about a guy. Not after what happened with Dale. I mean, I really thought the two of us were going to get married.
Sleaterkinneyfan:
Okay, okay. I’m not saying you should move in with the guy. But you could call him, at least. And thank him for the flowers.
Sleaterkinneyfan:
I guess.
Sleaterkinneyfan:
And ask him over. And take a bubble bath with him in Dolly’s Jacuzzi.
Sleaterkinneyfan:
JEN!!!!!!!! I’m SERIOUS!!!!!!!!! Meet me at Lupe’s after work so we can talk about it?
Sleaterkinneyfan:
Uh. Can’t.
Sleaterkinneyfan:
Why?
Sleaterkinneyfan:
Previous engagement. Sorry. Take a rain check?
Katydid:
Oh my God. You’ve found a new best friend. I’m out of the office for a few days, and you’ve gone and found a new best friend!
Sleaterkinneyfan:
Yeah, that’s it, all right. I’m going out with my new best friend. God, get a grip. Look, I have to go, my 4:30’s here. Talk to you later.
Sleaterkinneyfan:
logged off
To: Orin Wingblade <orin.wingblade@universityofkentucky.edu>
Fr: Kate Mackenzie <kathleen.mackenzie@thenyjournal.com>
Re: Life
Dear Professor Wingblade,
You probably don’t remember me. My name is Kate Mackenzie. I was in your Soc 101 and 102 class several years ago.
I just wanted you to know that I did graduate and went on to a career in social work. I wanted to “make a difference,” the way you urged us all to. I was employed by the city (of New York) social work department for a year before I realized that it wasn’t working out.
Professor Wingblade, it pains me to say this, but I really don’t think that one person CAN make a difference. I’ve tried and tried. Back when I worked for Child Protective Services, I tried, and more recently, when I worked for the HR department of a major New York newspaper, I tried.
But both times, Professor, it was as if I were beating my head against a brick wall. Little kids still went to bed hungry while their parents watched DVDs on their wide-screen TVs, and good people—people I really, really liked—got fired for no good reason. In addition, the people I worked for LIED about firing someone—and thenI got fired.
The reason I’m writing to you is . . . Professor Wingblade, what am I supposed to do now?
I went out into the world and tried to make a difference, but nobody’s life is improved because of me, and my own life is, frankly, in shambles. I broke off a relationship because the man I was involved with made me feel like I wasn’t worth much to him.
So now I have no boyfriend, no job, and no permanent place to live.
I don’t want to burden my friends with my problems anymore—they have their own problems. My best friend wants a baby more than anything, so she’s on fertility drugs, and I don’t want to stay at her place—not while she and her husband are trying to make a new life.
Meanwhile, you know, high-school girls are getting pregnant right and left, and don’t even WANT the responsibilities of parenting.
Iwant kids someday, too, but I can’t seem to find a guy who will commit to tomorrow, let alone stay around long enough to fertilize an egg or see the egg become a baby and the baby become a college grad. I did meet a new guy, but—well, he’s somewhat responsible for getting me fired in the first place, and may be interested in me out of sympathy. We’re certainly attracted to each other sexually and he seems to really like me . . . only how can he, really, when I don’t even like myself?
I should tell you that he’s a lawyer. I know you said all people have worth and dignity. But are you sure that includes lawyers?
How can I open myself up to a new relationship—I’m already completely incapable of getting this guy out of my head and it’s driving me CRAZY—with someone who not only got me fired, but is also a public defender turned high-powered corporate lawyer?
The other thing: I’ve met two members of his immediate family. One was very nice, but the other— Oh my God! What an ass! And things have gotten complicated. And not just because I let him put his hand up my shirt.
Oh my God. I can’t send this to you now.
Well, yes, I probably can, because I feel you’ll understand, on account of how your sharing with us about your wife grabbing the car keys and leaving without telling you where she was going. I sincerely hope that everything has worked out well for you and your wife.
Well, Professor, I have to go, Dolly’s housekeeper is here to change the sheets of the bed I’m lying on.
Please, though, if you get a chance, I’d really appreciate it if you’d drop me a line. I have no one else to turn to.
Thank you,
Kate Mackenzie
To: Jen Sadler <jennifer.sadler@thenyjournal.com> Tim Grabowksi <timothy.grabowski@thenyjournal.com>
Fr: Mitchell Hertzog <mitchell.hertzog@hwd.com>
Re: Tonight
You guys ready?
Mitch
To: Mitchell Hertzog <mitchell.hertzog@hwd.com>
Fr: Tim Grabowksi <timothy.grabowski@thenyjournal.com>
Re: Tonight
Thunderbirds are go.
Tim
To: Mitchell Hertzog <mitchell.hertzog@hwd.com>
Fr: Jen Sadler <jennifer.sadler@thenyjournal.com>
Re: Tonight
Are you kidding? I can hardly wait.
J
Dear Katie,
I hear from my lawyer that you are fired, too! And because of me! I am very sorry to hear this. And so I brought you some of the cookies you like so much. I hope they will make you feel better. Also I am taking some to the lawyer man who made you fired. The ugly one’s brother. He is a good man, this brother, in spite of getting you fired. I think he’d be nice to you . . . not like that no-good other boyfriend I see you with.
Here is the recipe for my cookies, so you can make them for this man, and he will love you.
Ida
Ida Lopez’s Gingersnaps
11 /2 sticks unsalted butter (softened)
11 /3 cups sugar
1 egg
1/4 cup molasses
2 cups flour
2 tsp ground ginger
1 tsp baking soda
1 tsp cinnamon
1/4 tsp ground cloves
1/4 tsp salt
Preheat oven to 350šF. Beat butter and 1 cup sugar on medium until well blended. Beat in egg and molasses until fluffy.
Whisk ginger, baking soda, cinnamon, cloves, and salt into flour. Add flour mixture into butter/sugar mixture with mixer on low.
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