Here’s what I answered to Terri’s last e-mail:

ohmygawd!

Whassup my tantalizing little strip of canadian bacon?

Been long since i actually got to wrte an e-mail but i am suffering from severe sleep deprivation!!! i have to wake up at fucking 5:30 in the fucking morning from monday to fucking thursday!!! GAAAAAAAAH!! I CANT TAKE IT ANYMORE!!!

Anyho, damn that ouija board story you told me made the hair in my neck stand up…. i heard this freaky story from my friend who heard the same shit about them boards, that they make freaky stuff happen and so on and so on, so she decided to throw the whole box on the trash can outside of her house. then she forgot about it and a little while later she went to look for something in her closet and voilá. the ouija board was there. the thing is, she was alone in her house so there wasnt a chance anyone retrieved it and put it there…. freeeeeaaaakyyyyy…..

oh and at one of my friend’s birthday parties we were playing that shit and me and some other guy asked the damn thing if some other presence was there and the damn thing moved to the yes sign. i stopped playing that shit right there.

Soooooooo ill stop with the freaky stories now cause im all alone in my room and now im all paranoid & shit.

Speaking of shit, no i havent met anyone yet. well, yeah i did but FUCK!! he had to leave to miami cause he works there and i’m like totally convinced with the idea that a decent guy that is worth it isnt gonna come for a looong looong time. hell, my hand might as height=12 src="http://graphics.hotmail.com/emcrook.gif" width=12> ) [Ok, I don't know what the fuck hotmail did with this part of the e-mail and I don't quite remember what I said, so this bit was lost. I'm sure you can imply it had to do with "manual self-pleasure"...]

And now next week they are gonna make me work almost 40 hours can you believe that? My manager quit and now i am gonna drop dead by the end of the week . Hell, i get tired when i work only 20 something hours. maximum suckage indeed.

How about you? got men? (in other words : got milk? ha! ) yuck.

ok im gonna go to sleep now cause my fucking car broke down and i have no air conditioning and this fucking hot weather is slowly melding my asscheeks to the carseats. hope to hear from you soon, dont do anything i wouldnt do (that leaves you with a looooot of things to do) so ill go to bed and dream of hot sweaty marines giving me a full body massage with chocolate syrup and licking it off. slowly.

See you on the mirror (duh!)

your pal that lives like 5 time zones away:

-Kaiser

It’s fascinating to see how my life has changed since then by reading my replies to a 4 yr. old e-mail. I mean Shit! I had started working at that goddamn record store! Ah, the minimum wage memories… The annoying and outstandingly moronic clientelle. The killer 8 hr. shifts… *Watery eyes*
Aaaaaanyway here’s what she had to say:

"Hey Beyotch How you doin?? Yeah I am totally in the same ship as you boyfriend wise…speaking of marines when i broke up with my boyfriend last summer i got over him with a marine 3 days after we broke up..i was up on the boardwalk and all these marines were in for the weekend..and i wasnt really interested cause i was heart broken and waaa waa ya know…so i am sitting with my friend jerry and we are drinking some long island ice teas and one of these marines decide to be a pig with me and i told him right off casue duh i hate men right now and i would love to rip of his dick and fry it up as a BACON and feed it to him..but anyways that was at the time…so ya i told him off sat back down with the guys and carried on with my drinks…

well i felt this guy just staring at me and at first i just didnt bother looking at his face and basically rolled my eyes at him…then i glanced over for like half a second and more and more each time and i looked at my pal jerry and i was like man this guy is pretty hot and he keeps looking at me..even though i looked like i just crawled out of a gutter…mascara all runny and my hair looked like shit..so i felt kidna guilty thinking about this guy in that way so i walked over to the pier and i swear cesar it felt like it was right out of a movie…he came over and tapped my on the shoulder and said i looked like i needed a friend..so we just walked along the wharf and talked for like 8 hours man..we watched the sun go down and shit..we totally connected..it felt like god put this guy here to make me feel better about myself and to make me realize that theres plenty of nice guys out there who would love to treat me good..so after that we write each other and stuff…he lives in massachusets and i live in canada Can Na Duh….were only like an 8 hour drive apart but it would be totally hard for us to have anything but that..

but thats my marine story and i thought i would share it with you cause i have only shared it with a few people and its kinda like a dream most people have of meeting someone in that kind of setting…like i said right out of a movie but since then no men no nothing…i feel like i am totally going to be alone forever…i would so love a family and kids and a good looking husband..but i am almost 23 years old and maybe i have to come to the realization that that stuff maybe isnt in my future.. who knows… well write me back and take care Terri

Kinda like the script for a cheesy romantic movie, eh?
Well, that’s how we kept each other sane, each telling secrets to a stranger that was thousands of miles away, the likes of which you have only seen in pictures. I guess it was some sort of therapy, without having to pay some Doctor Douchebag like $500 an hour or so. And without the annoying anti-depressants. Speaking of anti-depressants, About two years before this e-mail I went on this "routine" visit to a psychiatrist (suggested, of course, by none other than my mom, who for some reason which still escapes me, assumed the whole family needed therapy. Except my dad of course. He seems to have the firm belief that, since he has a doctor’s degree, he already knows everything a psychiatrist could possibly tell him. How handy.) so anyway, it turns out the shrink ended up prescribing Prozac to EVERYONE. Mom, sis, bro, and me. Father, of course, did not assist these meetings, since as I said before, his doctor’s degree gives him the knowledge of all the cosmos (or so he chooses to believe), so he shuns the opinion of other colleagues.
Prozac didn’t do much for me. My life at that point was so boring and un-exciting that whatever emotions that pill was supposed to suppress weren’t there in the first place. I was the same robot I had always been. Except maybe sleepier.
I stopped taking that shit, and stopped going to the shrink altogether. An utter waste of time and money. After all, I consider myself pretty sane. (Or so I choose to believe.)

There’s more letters, biatches, so don’t go too far.

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