Tuesday, April 29, 2014

Letter #3: Big, Big Love

April 30, 2014

Mr. David Sedaris
Little, Brown and Company
237 Park Avenue
New York, NY 10017

Dear Mr. Sedaris:

I'm quite comfortable with the notion that in my absence, the individuals left standing around without me experience a black hole of inactivity.  They stumble back into their cryogenic chambers where they marinate in liquid nitrogen and patiently await my return.  I prefer to think this is what's happening whenever it's time for me to go home and eat dinner, watch TV and fall asleep.

Someday after we become friends, I will probably feel this way about you too.  It's nothing personal.  The extreme medical therapy scenario is my practical approach to compartmentalizing data while greatly reducing distractions.  Basically, I don't want to be worrying about you while I'm not around.  I am merely trying to concentrate so I can contribute to the progress of the universe.

It's really not as arrogant as it sounds.  Of course, I realize that people have other stuff to do and are probably checking things off their own personal accomplishment lists, left and right.  It's just that I can't carry those details around in my head.  My perception of other folks' reality is two-dimensional; it has length and width, but no depth.  My brain is like a spacebag, a revolutionary vacuum-sealed storage system.  There's a lot going on up there, and everything must fit.

In other news, Friday was my wedding anniversary.  David and I are married sixteen years.  It's a pretty big deal.  I took marriage for a joyride twice before and drove both decisions into brick walls.  For a long time, my mother would say novenas that I'd find someone decent.  Mom used to pray that I'd meet John F. Kennedy, Jr.  I think it was very sweet of her to have such high hopes, given my less than ideal choices and track record with men.

I often envisioned John-John pedaling his Schwinn back to his cryogenic chamber in TriBeCa after we were done getting to know one another.  Quite frankly, I never thought we had all that much in common.   It seemed like he really enjoyed the outdoors, what with all the rollerblading and bike riding.  I would sooner be inside. I love air-conditioning.  I will admit, his lifestyle looked intriguing. Except for the plane crash.  When he and his wife died in that tragic accident, I was grateful that I'd married Dave Killian instead.  So was my mom.

These past sixteen years have gone by quickly.  I suppose that's a good sign.  I think I've finally figured out how to be a reasonable wife.  What a relief.  My husband is a very nice man.  It'd be unfortunate had I fucked this one up.

Rory told me over the weekend that he likes wives better than brides.  Apparently, brides give him the creeps.  They make him think of the undead.  Sometimes, I wonder how many wives that child will go through before one of them sticks.  If he treats his women anything like his toothbrush, the number is sure to be in the hundreds.  Still, he does have nice, strong teeth and a winning smile.

Yours truly,

Mary Killian

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