From most recent
*PSYCHO ROOMATE LETTER*
This is a sad, sad, sad, letter. My emotions are running wild, from anger to hurt to
frustration to doubt to fear and to anger--no--, Rage is more apt a term, once more.
Some of you have not heard from me in quite awhile, and for that I apologize. I sent out
quite a packet of letters recently, so a lot of the tale I will tell you will be a repeat.
I will begin with my arrival in France...
My mother had found an apartment for me when she was here in August, she had never
met the girl who would become my roomate, and she never saw the apartment she choose
for me. With the apartment she [and I] got lucky. With the roomate...not quite so much.
Above all you must understand the housing crunch in Paris--it�s no wonder people are
homeless. As Jacob (Rocca) says-- �It�s not that you don�t have the money--it�s that you
can�t find anyone to take it!� He has been looking for an apartment for 2 months and has
yet to find anything, and he will be forced to move on the 1st of November, due to outside
issues.
At first I thought that I had indeed been fortunate. My apartment was beautiful--2
LARGE bedrooms, Nice, clean, non-stinky bathroom(for those who came to visit, you
will definatly appreciate that fact!), wc, A living room the size of most studio apartments
in Paris, and a REAL kitchen. For those of you who have never tried to find an apartment
in paris, you may not realize what a find this was--and 5 min walking distance to the
University!
One thing that made me a bit nervous was the fact that I was [am] sub-sub-sub letting
(Quite a bit of layers, and thus I have no rights since I have no contract. I can therefore be
kicked out from one day to the next. Knowing this, I was prepared to bite my tounge
about a lot of things, and put up with situations that I normally would not have.)
My roomate seemed nice enough, if a bit lacking in common sense, but at least she didn�t
seem psychotic...[does anyone sense foreshadowing here?] Her on-again, off-again,
I-really-do-love-him-even-though-he-treats-me-like-shit boyfriend seemed on the verge of
moving in, a situation I was not pleased with, but as stated before, not much I could do
about it.
When I went to put my things away in *my* room, I was amazed to find a closet full of
stuff. And not my stuff. Now, I may be silly in thinking this, but when one puts a room
up for rent, wouldn�t you think that you would get the *entire* room? Including the
closet? Hastily she took her clothes off of *2* of the 8 shelves and threw them on the
floor saying, �Here, I cleared off some shelves for you.� Um, Gee, Thanks. But like I
said, I couldn�t do much about it.
The second night I was there, still jet-lagged I had gone to bed at 7, I was woken by loud
screaming and yelling. I thought Mr. I-play-video-games-all-day-instead-of-getting-a-job
was beating up my roomate, because when I stepped outside my room she was on the
floor and he was standing above her, gripping her wrists. Just as I was about to intervene
in my �Feminist Avenger� mode (quickly trying to locate a phone booth to don my
costume), he thrust a handful of pills and broken vials at me and said, �She�s trying to kill
herself because I�m leaving her. Take these. She�s your problem now. I�m out of here.�
It was then that I realized that SHE was the one holding onto him, and not the other way
around. [IMHO, he was not worth killing one�s self over--well, I suppose NO one is, but
ESSPECIALLY not him} Bewildered, I accepted the pills as he grabbed hs duffle bag and
ran out in the street, my roomate following after him in her negligee. In my mind, the
music to �COPS� was playing....
I suppose that should have been my first hint that I ought to start looking for a new
apartment, but like I said, housing crunch. [And of course, trying to kill oneself doesn�t
NECESARILLY mean that one is psycotic...right? yeah]
Then, little details started to bug me. Little things such as the fact that she changed the
locks without telling the landlord, or that she seems to have an unlimited source of income
with which to buy very expensive toys like a playstation, a big-sceen, dvd player a
beautiful brand new car etc. and she never seemed to work. In the 1 month I�ve known
her she�s �lost� 3 jobs because she didn�t feel like going in for work.[ I began to suspect
she was selling drugs or herself; neither suspicion has yet been verified] She instead spent
most of her days trying to find a job for her lazy-ass boyfriend (Who DIDN�T end up
leaving her, much to my dismay), so he could come live here. She would snivel, �they
won�t take him because he�s arab. They�re all racist� In my head I�m thinking, �Hmm,
Perhaps, just perhaps, it�s because he shows NO motivation? Nah, that couldn�t be it.�
I went to visit Anne France (My Aunt) for 2 weeks, and when I came back all of her
things had been moved from her (Very large, beautiful, with a balcony and french doors,
tv hookup and phone) room, and into the living room. My room was a pit (And unlike
usual, I had left it CLEAN) with her things strewn about everywhere. She had [badly]
re-wallpapered her room and thus moved her things to the living room. [Her
raggady-boyfriend had gone back to Alsace before I came back to the apartment] That
would have been fine if she had moved her things BACK to her room when she was
finished. But She didn�t. She is, as we speak, currently living, sleeping, eating, and doing
everything else in the living room. Another thing started to come to my notice at around
this time, pointed out by Beth (Griffin)--The fact that she always wore the same clothes
(Despite having a {MY} closet full of them (And they�re all skanky might I add)). It has
now been 2 weeks since I came back from Anne-France�s and in that time she has worn 2
pairs of clothes that entire time---waking as well as sleeping. Another very scary thing?
As far as I can tell she has not taken a shower in the entire time I have been back.
All of those things, while annoying and more than a little sketch, are not as disturbing as
her morals. As in, she doesn�t have any. One of the things she�s said to me. �I don�t
really like the landlord, so I don�t think I�ll pay the final month�s rent when I leave.�
Another situation--She get�s 2000F a month as a scholarship, but the kicker? She doesn�t
even plan on going to school. She�s signed up for it simply to get the scholarship money.
Also--She was in this apartment for 2 months and didn�t want to install a phone (Phones
cost quite a bit, and in addition to paying for long distance, you also have to pay local and
pay for the Privilage of having a phone) I needed one, so I had one installed. When I left
for Anne-France�s I left a note ON the phone asking her not to use it. When I come back
she claims not to have seen it, and I find that she has not only been using it, but has
somehow gotten a hold of the phone number and given it out to everyone she knows.
Now *I* can�t use the phone because people are calling her non-stop, and no one can
reach me because it�s always busy. (Incedentally her controlling boyfriend calls every half
hour to make sure she�s not out with some other guy. *Sigh* some people accuse me of
being picky when it comes to guys. I reply, �With good reason�)
I also got a phone so I could use the internet to speak with my friends, but the one time I
used the internet, she asked if she could be on for �Just five minutes�--Against my better
judgement (and knowing that no one ever spends �just five minutes�) I let her, and she
spent 2 hours online. Ugh. Every minute of which costs money, which she swore she
would pay for, but when I get into the real night-mare, you will soon understand that she
never will.
Can you believe it? This is just the tip of the ice burg with many more things I have not
thought to mention yet--(Oh! here�s one! I got a letter from the landlord asking why the
rent hadn�t been paid and this was the 2nd notice. (I pay my rent directly to my roomate)
when I asked her about it, she said she would take care of it. Hmm. Sketch. Here�s
another one-- When Beth brought a beer into the apartment she had a fit and said that
being �Muslim� it was not acceptable, and that alcohol chases the angels away. Ok, that�s
fine. I dont� even really like alchol, and I respect other people�s religious beliefs, but
here�s a question-- Doesn�t Allah also frown on shacking up with your boyfriend? Don�t
they stone muslim women who do things like that?? In addition, when I asked her and her
friends to not smoke indoors, she did NOT comply.)
Rhetorical Question: Does Allah Condone Theft?
Here�s where things get messy:
This morning she woke me up asking where the key to the mailbox was. I always keep
the key in my wallet, where I incidentally always keep my credit card. I always keep my
wallet, (When it�s not on me), in my underwear drawer (Original I know). As I got out
the key, I noted that my credit card was in my wallet. [A side note that becomes important
later--I had not been out of the apartment in 2 days] She asked me what my plans were
for the day, and I told her that I didn�t really have any. Beth (Who had slept over), and I
went to the kitchen to fix lunch, (Yes, yes, I woke up at noon).
From the kitchen you can�t see either bedroom. Beth and I were in the kitchen for about
an hour, making lunch and then eating. My roomate, meanwhile, went out with some
friends for the afternoon.
Later, I realized that I needed to go to the post office to mail off a bunch of letters I had
written. I then went and got my wallet, intending to pay for the stamps with my credit
card. It was gone.
At first I thought that I must have misplaced it, or perhaps it had fallen out of the wallet.
Beth and I spent an hour searching my room. nothing. Still being rather unconcerned, (I
had, after all, seen it that morning) I went to the post office, (Paid for stamps in cash), and
came back. This time I Tore my room apart looking for it. Nothing. ( I think you can all
see where I�m going with this.) Deciding it would be better to be safe than sorry, I called
to cancel my card. There, I was in for a rude shock.
The man on the phone asked me when I las used my card was. I told him, and he said,
�Hmmmmm, there are multiple charges on it this afternoon, though none before the date
you specified.� He listed off the stores where things had been bought--A restaurant, a
sporting goods store (every one KNOWS that that couldn�t possibly have been me!), an
electronics store. The surprising thing is that the charges were all for smallish
amounts--$15, $25, $50-- And I thought to myself--IF this was a �real� theif, wouldn�t
they go out and buy themselves a big-screen tv, and a car or somehting? Since I Knew for
a FACT that I had my card this morning, I also knew for a Fact who had stolen my card.
(Unfortunatly it woud be my word against hers). and I couldn�t have lost it before today
since I didn�t even go Outdoors! I�m wondering if she thinks I�m just some rich american
who wouldn�t even notice that money was missing, and she could just put my card back,
or that I would think someone else did it.
I had my card immediatly canceled (Though now I have barely any cash on me), and I�m
wondering if she realized that I figured it out since she may have tried to charge other
purchases in the afternoon. I have decided that the best course of action is to act like
nothing happened, and try to find myself a new place to live ASAP.
She is going back to her hometown for 2 weeks on sunday, and I�m hoping that before she
gets back I will have moved out. Whereas before I was rueing the fact that I didn�t have a
contract, and thus was on uncertain ground, now I am grateful, since I can disappear
whenever I want. The only trouble is now finding an apartment, and the fact that I have to
continue being nice to her up until I leave. (I can�t get the police involved since not only
will they not do anything, but it will only cause tensions that I would have to live with (Or
worst case scenario, be kicked out before I find anything and be homeless.) I have also
been advised by my mom�s cousin not to go to the police, because in truth the will suspect
me for credit card fraud before they do her.))
So that�s my tragic life in a nutshell. My dad keeps asking me to come back to the US and
truthfully, it�s sounding more and more appealing. I don�t know what the right choice is.
All I know at the moment is that I�m in �the depths of despair� as some might say.
School starts tomarrow (or *Today* considering it�s 1 am) and I find it doubtful I will be
able to concentrate on anything other than my current situation.
I�m afraid I don�t have any happy news, but I would appreciate any happy thoughts you
would send my way. And also, if you prayerfully minded people would care to ask
you-know-who if he�d like to take a microsecond of time to fix my problem, I�d be
greatful. (But somehow I�m thinking that business in afgahnastan might be a *bit* more
important.)
I love you all, and if you don�t here from me anytime soon it means that she�s either a)
changed the lock on my apartment b)stolen my computer and sold it on the black market
or c) killed me in my sleep. At the moment, all seem likely possibilities.
Despairingly yours,
Stephanie
MARCH 19, 2001
This is Seriously the 200th time I�ve started this email, and considering the number of
people who keep emailing me asking if I�ve fallen off the face of the earth, I�ve decided it
might be a good idea to finish it. I suppose one might wonder why I haven�t written since
before Christmas (O MY GOODNESS! has it been that long already?!)--But I just haven�t
felt really motivated...I think perhaps an easier way than to explain why, would be to skip
along, and go straight to the sing-along portion of this email---
Ok--So are you ready? I know you all know the words, but I�ve provided them anyways-
Get those pitch-pipes out! Comon--I want to hear you loud and clear--ENUNCIATE!
Stand up straight! All together now! And here we go....
Belle:
Little town
It's a quiet village
Ev'ry day
Like the one before
Little town
Full of little people
Waking up to say:
Townsfolk:
Bonjour!
Bonjour!
Bonjour! Bonjour! Bonjour!
Belle:
There goes the baker with his tray, like always
The same old bread and rolls to sell
Ev'ry morning just the same
Since the morning that we came
To this poor provincial town
Baker:
Good Morning, Belle! Belle:
'Morning, Monsieur.
Baker:
Where are you off to? Belle:
The bookshop. I just finished the most wonderful story
About a beanstalk and an ogre and a -
Baker:
That's nice. Marie!
The baguettes! Hurry up!
Women:
Look there she goes that girl is strange, no question
Dazed and distracted, can't you tell?
Woman:
Never part of any crowd
Barber:
'Cause her head's up on some cloud
Townsfolk:
No denying she's a funny girl that Belle
Belle:
There must be more than this provincial life!
Bookseller:
Ah, Belle!
Belle:
Good Morning. I've come to return the book I borrowed.
Bookseller:
Finished already?
Belle:
Oh, I couldn't put it down. Have you got anything new?
Bookseller:
Not since yesterday.
Belle:
That's all right. I'll borrow . . . . . this one!
Bookseller:
That one? But you've read it twice!
Belle:
Well, it's my favorite! Far off places, daring swordfights, magic spells, a prince in disguise
Men:
Look there she goes that girl is so peculiar
I wonder if she's feeling well
Women:
With a dreamy, far-off look
Men:
And her nose stuck in a book
Townsfolk:
What a puzzle to the rest of us is Belle
Belle:
Oh, isn't this amazing?
It's my fav'rite part because --- you'll see
Here's where she meets Prince Charming
But she won't discover that it's him 'til chapter three!
Shopkeeper:
I'm afraid she's rather odd
Very diff'rent from the rest of us
Townsfolk:
She's nothing like the rest of us
Yes, diff'rent from the rest of us is Belle!
Belle:
There must be more than this provincial life!
Townsfolk:
Look there she goes
The girl is strange but special
A most peculiar mad'moiselle!
It's a pity and a sin
She doesn't quite fit in
'Cause she really is a funny girl
She really is a funny girl
That Belle!
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
I don�t remember who it was that asked me if my town looked like the one in �Beauty and
the Beast�--But it definitly does--complete with the fountain in the town square, and
busybody neighbors---And at the moment, my life resembles this song to an astonishing
degree.--(Just insert �Trashy Romance Novel� for �book�) Everyday IS like the one
before--and I keep thinking to myself �There must be more than this provencial life� (and
I can tell that all the townspeople are thinking �Look there she goes, that girl is strange no
question--a most peculiar mademoiselle�)
I know, I know--You all have these grand illusions about how exciting it is here because
it�s.......FRANCE! But really? Not more exciting than Mankato or Minnetonka. But how
often you forget that wherever you live SOMEONE wants to go on vacation there! The
biggest industry in this tiny town is tourism, but the students are flabergasted to think that
anyone would want to displace themselves to come and visit--In their words? �Mais C�est
le trou du cul du monde!�---Um...I think I won�t translate that one. (They delight in
teaching me naughty words, and how best to employ them) In Reverse, I�m astounded to
think that anyone in their right mind would want to visit Minnesota...IN
WINTER!--(Funny story while we�re on the topic--A couple of weeks ago it �Snowed�
(and I use that term lightly) The natives were all excited about it--As for me? I hadn�t
even noticed--and it all melted by 10am) But they all want to. I guess the grass is greener
on either side of the pond.
I guess that�s one of my �life lessons� this year. In high school I was impatient for college,
thinking that it HAD to be more interesting/exciting than Minnetonka. Ummm-No. So
then I decide to go to france thinking that it HAD to be more interesting/exciting than
Mankato. Um...No. So what have I learned? That no place in the world is more
exciting/intersting than Minnetonka? Um...No-- but more that every place is as exciting as
you make it.
So, since it�s been awhile, and most of you haven�t heard about my adventures in Paris, I�ll
chronicle what I remember of them here.
First off--A great big THANK YOU to Jacob who let me and Danine use his apartment.
And also let me just say that I was spoiled rotten for Christmas! So thanks all for cards,
letters and packages!
All right-I went to my Aunt�s In Pau for the first week of vacation--My french family all
went to her house for Christmas--Surprisingly uneventful considering my family--but in a
good way.
Afterwards I went to Paris and picked up Danine at the airport. Let me just say that I
LOVE Paris! I suppose that�s not surprising-Most people love paris--But I would really
love to live there--and I will--Just as soon as I win the lottery, because though france is
expensive in general, Paris is a black hole that sucks away your money.
We did the usual--Museums, monuments, the champs-elysee--etc. One of the things I love
best about paris is that at every corner there�s an artist wanting to do your portrait and
they pull out all the stops when it comes to flattery. �You Very Beautiful lady! I do your
picture?� What a boost for your self-esteem! Esspecially when you to la place du tertre
and there are one-hundred artists all proclaiming that you put Helen of Troy to shame---of
course they�re declaring the same thing to the 400lb, buck-toothed, cross-eyed tourist,
across the way, but you tell yourself that they�re just trying to get HER to buy stuff, but
with YOU they REALLY mean it. Yup. I�m sure of it. And that�s why I now have a lovely
portrait that looks absolutly nothing like me.
The only really eventful thing to happen was on New-Year�s Eve. Let me just say that I
will never again feel envious of those poor fools in Time�s square or--well, heck--anyone
who goes OUT for new years. The day started out all right--I had even forgotten what
day it was. We decided to go to Notre Dame--(Well, really I wanted to go to the
catecombs, but seeing as it was new years, it was closed) But it was Sunday, so
Notre-Dame itself was open--They were even having a concert, and so you can picture
how packed it was. I hate to imagine what would happen if one yelled �fire� in there. So
we visited, and snapped the obligatory pictures, and then strolled along the Seine, and
under the bridges. We decided to head over to the latin quarter for dinner, and along the
way we stopped in at a paper shop where we spent at least an hour and I was in Heaven
and Danine was in hell--but oh my goodness, I�ve rarely seen anything so beautiful.
So, apparently we had forgotten that it was new years and everyone would be out in full
force, and practically all the restaurants were full--and seeing how it was only about 7 they
could only have been filled with tourists. So we ate our dinner in a seedy restaurant, and
decided to head over to the eiffel tower, where we would ring in the new year. it was only
about 8:30, but already there was quite a large crowd that had gathered--Mostly drunk
and shooting fire-crackers. By now the wind had started to pick up, and while earlier it
had been warm, now it was barely above freezing, and starting to drizzle. We were lucky
however, in that we found a bench with a great view of the tower near the fountains
across from it.
So we sat there for more than 3 hours while more and more drunkards gathered around
us, and the rain started coming down even harder. But we were determined not to budge.
We had some of the best seats in the house and come rain, fire-crackers, and shards of
champgne bottles, we were not going to budge. Plus we were so excited thta we decided
to wait it out. Pretty soon my watch said a quarter to--then ten to-then five to----then the
big sign on the Eiffel tower that said AN 2000 was turned off and it started to
sparkle--YEA! I�m thinking--Now we�re really gonna see a show--so we sit there and
wait, thinking--well, they�re surely going to put up a countdown or a AN 2001 sign. So
then my watch shows five past---then ten past---Then --a quarter past. The freezing rain
is coming down in sheets, and the wind is whiping around us, Danine is trying to drag me
away, but I refuse to budge--certain in my conviction that SOMETHING is going to
happen. The sea of people around us are heading for the metro, but I�m still sure that this
can�t Possibly be IT---But it is. Brokenhearted, Danine pulls me to my feet and we start
heading for the metro. Pretty soon, we don�t even need to walk anymore for we are fairly
swept away by the crowd--and we come to the realization that everyone is going exactly
the same place we are.
The metro station is so full that they are turning people away. Let me clarify here--THE
STATION is what�s full. Have you ever seen those WWII documentries that show
everyone craming into the subway station to escape the bombs falling on their heads?
That�s what it was like. The station was so crowded that people on the inside had their
faces pressed up against the window and litteraly could not move. The rain is dropping
little freezing pellets on us, but we really have no choice but to keep walking over broken
champagne bottles to try and find another way back to Jacob�s. So we start walking. We
walk for half an hour before I realize that we�re walking in the opposite direction of where
we�re supposed to be going. We try getting a taxi, but they�re all full, and anyways, the
traffics not moving anywhere. So we decide to head back to the first metro station
thinking that by this point, the crowds must have dissipated--Um--No--Instead a mini-riot
has broken out--and I�ll point out that there is an over abundance of broken champagne
bottles scattered all around.--Not really having any better plan we start walking under the
metro tracks, hoping to follow them to some kind of landmark from which we will be able
to find our way back.
All of a sudden --Success! We find a metro station, that while crowded, is not much more
full than any other station during rush hour. The major plus is that it�s relativly warm and
dry. At this point I�m feeling very smug, because Danine had been doubting my ability to
get us home. I take this oppertunity to point out that we will be at the apartment in less
than fifteen minutes. So we get onto the metro--it starts going....and it stops. The
conducter gets on the intercom and says- �Due to the fact that a number of people have
decided to head home by walking on the meto rails, this service is temporarily
interupted.We will resume shortly.� Of course what always happens in situations like this?
(well, besides the fact that Shortly always turns into longly)--Yup--Majorly need to use
the bathrooms--and Shortly truns into 45 min.
So the train starts going again, and a cheer goes up from the occupants of the cars, and we
get to the next station....and the train stops.....and the lights go out.....and that same voice
gets on the intercom and says.....�Ladies and Gentlement, our service is now concluded
for the night.� Now, I know that hissy fits haven�t really gotten me anywhere since I was
two and in a supermarket wanting an impulse item at the checkout, but that didn�t really
stop me from throwing one---and then a drunk guy who couldn�t even stand threw up at
my feet. And I got over my hissy fit, and wanted to get the hell out of there.
We get up to the street, and I can see the arch de triomphe, and I heaved my first sigh of
relief of the evening. Yes, it was still pouring, still windier than chicago, and the residents
of paris were still drunker than a bunch of sailors on leave, but I knew now that without a
doubt I could get us back to Jacob�s--Danine was half asleep, and so was I, but somehow
we managed to power walk the 8+ miles back to his place---
As we got in, locked the door behind us, and colapsed on the couch, that�s when I made
my New Year�s Resolution--Never to go out for New Year�s again.
We went back to St Cere soon afterwards, and then the next week I brought Danine up to
Paris to go home.
I know this is already an absurdly long email, but i just have to get this last part in-
-Later after Danine left, Jacob and I decided to hit the �Soldes� Near Chatelet. (Bad
Idea--Reminicent of the bomb-shelter subway with all the people) But near Centre
Pompidou (Where I later found out was all the real fun stuff on New Years--but whatever)
They had set up an ice-skating rink, and near-by were vendors selling all sorts of stuff,
from chestnuts, to crepes to cotton candy, and Jacob and i decide to split some cotton
candy. We then wander over to the skating rink, where the sun is streaming down, giving
everything in sight that lazy early afternoon golden glow. It�s a perfect winter
afternoon-neither too cold nor toowindy, and the kids� laughter from the rink only served
to higlight the other music playing in the air. Jacob and I stood there, basking in the
perfectness of that moment, when it suddenly hit us both at the same time--The music they
were playing was Vonda Shepherd--And this was an Ally McBeal Episode. I swear I saw
myself skateby--ala Ally McBeal in one of her weird fantasies--In order to preserve the
perfectness, we got out of there before they decided to change the CD--for O how easily
are illusions shattered--But for one brief moment, my life was a tv show.
Since I�ve been back, I�ve settled into my very unexciting routine, and since this email is
already outrageous in length, I�ll spare those of you who managed to make it this far, and
won�t go into details describing it.
I will Say how much I�ll miss the monotony when I leave--for it�s monotony in a
charming, picturesque countryside--which is more than I can say for Minnetonka.
It�s gone by really quickly though--Next week Bill comes to visit for a week, then two
weeks vacation (Profesora! I�m going to Spain!) Then one more week of teaching, (Then
Corsica! (Hopefully)) and then I come home. Whew!�
I�m also very excited to come home because, (though I know I�ve mentioned this to some
of you, I�ll mention it again), Mary and I got the Go-ahead From Ms. M for �ANNE OF
GREEN GABLES�!!! Yea! How exciting!--So, all of you, do me a favour and get the
word out--EVERYONE is invited to audition--Ages 10-100, and auditions will be three
days after I get back-so May 23rd--Make me happy! Come audition--(You know who you
are--Yes, I�m talking to YOU!)
Well, as Porky Pig would say--
That�s all Folks!
TTYL~
Steph!
(PS-I was on Vacation 3 weeks ago, and Hotmail erased all the messages in my inbox--so
if you sent me an email during that time and didn�t recieve a response that�s why--Sorry!)
�One must never consent to creep when one feels an impulse to soar�~Helen Keller
�If only we�d stop trying to be happy, we could have a pretty good time�~Edith Wharton
�Anorexia is a disease you catch from reading magazines�~Amy Brenneman
�I�ll not listen to reason. Reason always means what someone else has got to
say�~E.Gaskell
�Fond as we are of our loved ones, there comes at times during their absence an
unexplainable peace.�~Anne Shaw
JANUARY 15,2000-Letter to KATIE
Hey Babe! you�ve probably gotten my letter by this point, but since I din�t cover
everything you wrote about in your emails, I�m going to do it here---
but first, here�s a story I thought you might like--This is just the end of it-�the punchline� if
you will, but I thought you would be able to relate--(The story was about a woman who�s
mother had been a nun for 14 years before she got married, and would never answer her
daughter�s questions about it.)--------
�Although my choice to attend a women's college in Massachusetts might suggest that I
had an affinity for the idea of sisterhood, I never saw myself as following in my mother's
footsteps. Mom pledged vows of poverty, chastity and obedience to her Lord and Savior;
Wellesley did not mandate such a requirement for graduation.
Yet, like my mother, I encountered dropped jaws and interrupted swallowing reflexes
when I announced my intention to go to Wellesley. I started to think that maybe it wasn't
the bride of Christ thing that made nuns an endless source of fascination but their decision
to live in a community free from the influence of men. Perhaps we were pioneers, my
mother and I, and those gasps and stares we faced were ones of admiration! Disbelief!
Awe!
Or perhaps these all-women communities are viewed as having great potential for some
really kinky shit. (Certainly when I ran into Will, a high school classmate, in the grocery
store during my first holiday break, and he asked if I was having a good time at Wellesley,
I'm pretty sure he didn't want to know about my astronomy course or the strengths of an
all-female classroom; he wanted a tale of hot lesbian sex. Right there, without a doubt, hot
lesbian sex in the cereal aisle.)
After I graduated from Wellesley, I thought the attention would evaporate. Instead, I
handle a steady stream of inquiries -- from friends, neighbors, dry cleaners -- about life at
my alma mater. (As in: "I went to Wellesley," followed by "Oh, what was that like?") If I
opt for the truth, �that� was made up of working hard to be able to watch syndicated
reruns of "Full House" every evening. �That� was a high level of excitement generated by a
baked potato bar for dinner. �That� was nothing, to a mortifying degree.
"Oh, it was fine," I'll say with a grin, as my mother's own story -- or lack thereof -- starts
to make more sense. Of course, when dealing with perceived fantasies of naked ritual
dances and girly pillow fights, one-word replies delivered with a mysterious smile only add
to the intrigue. I finally get it.�----
Ok--Responding to your prostitute question-
While it's true that some prostitutes and strippers are abused, many of them are not. Some
women make well-informed decisions when they choose sex work. And while others are
forced into the profession for sheerly economic reasons, being forced to do a job that one
doesn't enjoy does not make sex work special. In many ways, sex workers are like
hundreds of thousands of other women in the United States today. Poor and
disadvantaged women perform undervalued labor like waitressing, sweatshop
manufacturing and housework all the time but rarely do people wring their hands over it
or try to save them. Often those who condemn the idea of paying for sexual pleasure have
no qualms about paying a domestic to clean their toilets and windows.
Ultimately, how much of the confusion and unhappiness associated with sex work comes
from the "work" not the "sex"? Looking sex work in the face invites us to question
whether we should be more disturbed by the idea of buying someone for sex, or just the
idea of buying someone at all.
Thank you so much for your insightful comments on my book--I really appreciate it-and
I�ll implimant most of you ideas--Ie-Sinkler will become the grandmother character--I
think that�s appropriate--and we�ll have her say witty things like... �When I want to kill
puppies, I just knock their heads together�--well, ok-maybe we won�t put that one
in....Hmmm have you noticed how all of a sudden we have started to refer to ourselves as
the royal �we� ?
Yes--annes abs should NOT be flat-what on earth was I thinking! WE will rollick with
rowdy laughter..(Oh, and as for baker/julia--it�s because I write all this first in a notebook,
and then I type it out, and often times the first name I give them, I end up changing)--as
for the Pride and predjudice quote--if I�m not mistaken, it�s the very first line of the
book--
I haven�t written anything lately, but I plan on working on it soon--When I send you the
new stuff, I won�t have changed the story from what you�ve already read--I�m keeping
your comments, and when the story is completed I plan on doin g a major revision-- Also,
here�s a question fro you--How much of the humour in my book comes from the fact that
you �know� these characters? My grandmother said that I should interject more humour
to my story--Which is oh-so-hard to do! I really have NO sense of humour! it�s
terrible--btw-I didn�t understand what you meant by saying that I should make it like an
Elizabeth Peters book? How would I go about doing that? I dont� really understand what
you�re getting at--
OK--I have a writing assignment for you--It�s actually something I�ve wanted to do for
awhile, but havent gotten around to it- There�s a book out called �Snow White, Blood
Red�-(I think that�s the title-) and it�s a collection of Fairy tales re-told--It�s really
interesting-Some have been moved to the present, and some to the past, but all retold in
some way--And they go back to the original Grimm�s Borthers Tales-not the
homoginized, happy ending, schmooze-fest of the Disney stories--(Seriously, If I could I
woudl sue disney for causing me, and millions of other girls, ireperable psychological
trauma--I would be a much better person today if I had heard the real stories when I was a
child--that sleeping beauty was raped, that the little mermaid dies of a broken heart,
pocahontas of small pox, that cinderalla�s wicked stepsisters cut off their feet to fit in that
damned shoe, that Snow white was kept as a sex-toy by the dwarves--at least those are a
bit more realistic that that happily ever after crap that has become so much of a panacea
for me that, having run out of romance novels, I have to write my own...sheesh)--but
anyways-that is your assignment, should you choose to asccept it- Take a fairy-tale, and
make it your own-transform it in some way---what would be interesting is if we both
wrote on the same fairy-tale, and then exchanged stories--what do you think? let me
know-
Thanks for the info on Running for office--I appreciate it--If I ever did run, it would no
doubt be as a Democrat--Only because as an independant you can�t get anywhere--As For
P.E. Bush--or �Dubya� as they refer to him in newsweek-(I like that!) The French are
Upset that he was elected--they think that all his ideas are counter-intuitive-(Did you
know that in france gays are allowed to get married, and Capitol punishment is outlawed,
and this is the country that invented the abortion pill) and that it will spell disaster in so
many areas--esspecially in bosnia, where bush wants to pull out troops (and the US only
has 12% of nato troops that are there) and French Troops are already the bulk of those
over there, and they would no doubt be the ones who have to compensate for that
withdrawl
Yes-I am still directing ANNE! I�m very excited about it! Not only that, but Mary and I
are getting paid, --it�s very funny--Every one is sort of hesistant when asked whether they
want to participate, and then they find out that it�s anne of G.G. and their demeanor totally
changes -- Which is good! I�d love to borrow your book-- Are you goign to be around
this summer? I hope so-I dont� know what I�ll do with myself if you�re not!
Anyways-this is 3 pages long already, so I�ll sign off--
I Miss you SOOOOOO Much! I�ll probably call you soon
Love ya-
Steph
DECEMBER 16, 2000
This is a long message, so if you want to skip it, I don�t blame you....Personal messages at
the very bottom...
************************************************************************
I�m dreaming tonight, of a place I love, even more than I usually do,
And although I know it�s a long road back,
I promise you....
I�ll be home for Christmas,
You can count on me,
Please have snow, and mistletoe, and presents under the tree,
Christmas eve will find me where the love light gleams,
I�ll be home for Christmas,
If only in my dreams.
************************************************************************
Hello everyone, once again~
As I walk back and forth to my classes every day, I mentally write letters to each
and every one of you, noting little details that I feel would be of interest. Unfortunatly,
what I compose in my mind is much more pithy and erudite than what I write when I�m
sitting in front of my computer at the end of the day, and as much as I intend to write
letters to everyone, I�m always reminded of an apt quotation-- �You cannot reach
perfection though you try however hard to; There�s always one more friend or so you
should have sent a card to�-Richard Armour---So I apologize, once more, though I do try
my best. But--enough of that....
Last week they finally started decorating St. Cere, and it was worth the wait. It�s
absolutely lovely with the garlands and lights and Christmas trees every few feet (or
should I day meters). One of my favorite things is that they put �scarecrows� dressed as
Santa Claus (ou le pere noel) up on the roof, it�s really very charming. They also lit the
Christmas tree in the center of town last saterday, and there was a sort of festival, with
floats, made out of empty bottles, sent down the river with candles on them. There�s still
no snow, and while I�m dreaming of a white christmas, I�m also grateful that it�s been
abnormally warm, since my apartment is usually very cold.
I�ve also discoved just how thin the walls in my apartment are. I hadn�t realized
that no one lived above me before, but at the begining of December, one of the English
teachers from the high school moved in. Let me just say that I can hear *everything*--and
it�s rather disconcerting, because now I can�t look her in the eyes anymore. Considering
my insomniatic tendencies anyway, and now the fact that when I DO manage to get to
sleep, I�m woken up, I am now subsisting on about 2 hours of sleep a night. Ugh. But
there isn�t much I can do --I�m certainly not going to go pounding on the
ceiling...(Hey-mary, remember when we heard the people above us, and we pounded on
the ceiling and the guy came down? Don�t wanna go through that again!)...and added to
that, I know that when they�re sleeping, and I�m watching TV at four in the morning, they
can no doubt hear everything.
You know how everyone jokes about the French being bad drivers? They�re NOT
kidding, They seem to think pedestians are there for target practice..--Even when I ride
with people, I�m sure that at any moment I�m going to die--and considering the fact that
there have nearly been 3 accidents, it not surprising that I�m always tense (Jay-if you were
driving over here, you would have kicked me out long for holding on too tightly to the
handle above the window...Billium & Beth--You would get on perfectly over here...they
too think stop signs are meant for �other� people) To give you a couple examples, Jean
(Fourmont--I think I mentioned him and his family a while back...(To those of you who
care about such things, he *does* have a roman nose.......) but that�s not the point ;-)
anyways, when he drives, not only is it at high speeds, but, when taking curves he drives
straight, and cuts across both lanes--and this being in instances when we can�t see if any
cars are coming, and a ravine with no barrier on the other side. They all think it�s amusing
that I scream so much......
I also did something very brave the other day--I went to the movie theatre by
myself--very character-building-- I�ve also learned that when you go to the movies by
yourself, you have to hold you head high, and ignore the pitying glances of the other
movie patrons that you know are thinking, �Poor, poor, person, who has no friends,� And
inwardly you�re thinking, �It�s not that I have no friends, it�s just that they though the 7
hour flight might be too long, and they�d miss the begining�
Anyways, I saw �Charlie�s Angels�--In french of course- and it was rather amusing
because there are some things that just don�t translate---for example, the title in french is
�Charlie et ses droles de dames�--which translated back into english means, �Charlie and
his funny ladies�, so when, in the movie, the characters keep refering to themselves as
�angels� it makes no sense. There are also other jokes which don�t translate, but I can tell
what they were in English, and then everyone in the theatre turns to look at the only
person laughing, and wondering what on earth is so funny.
I�ve decided to go to the theatre more frequently though, it�s good to get out,
and.once you�ve gone alone the first time, it�s not as intimidating to go alone again.
Last weekend, a very kind teacher invited me to her home for lunch, and then
invited me to go with her family to pick out their Christmas tree. While I was there I
picked out my own Christmas tree--a potted one since I�m going to be gone from the
22nd to the 13th--and there�s nothing sadder than a dead Christmas tree. The teacher then
invited me to stay for supper and help trim their tree. It was the most enjoyable day I�ve
spent since I�ve been in France. I loved her family. One of her daughters is my student,
and the other is one of the cutest 6 year olds I�ve ever met. I�ve been so on edge since
I�ve been here, never feeling really able to be myself, but finally, with her family, I did.
With the decorations that Anne-France, my aunt sent me, and the ones my
grandparents sent me, my apartment is looking very festive--though undoubtably american
with the stocking hung up.
My classes are going pretty well. At the High School it�s very good--the students
are interested and friendly--they were shocked through when I was showing them some of
my pictures, and they came across ones of students having parties, and eating in class, and
of the senior party at the mall of america. At the Junior high there are still some
troublemakers, but I�ve got them pretty well in hand after they saw that I followed
through with my threat to send people to the principal�s office. One of the more
heart-warming and morale boosting things to happen was that 2 junior high girls, who are
already in my classes, asked if they could come and sit in on my other classes during their
free hours--it made me feel as though I�m doing something right.
There�s only one week of classes left before Christmas break. I know it�s much
the same in the U.S.--good luck to those of you undergoing finals this coming week, (And
much luck to the teachers on this list who have to correct those finals). Next Friday I leave
for my Aunt�s house near Pau for Christmas, and then I�m going up to Paris on the 27th.
Jacob (Rocca, who will be back in the states over Christmas) is kind enough to loan me,
(and Danine who is coming to visit) his apartment. I can�t wait to spend new year�s under
the eiffel tower, and to go spend time in all the museums I love. I�m really looking
forward to the trip, and to visiting with people from back home...(Myke--If you happen to
e-mail Zach, could you tell him I�ll be in Paris? Will he be there at the same time? Could
you send me his email again?)
I hope you all have lovely, and happy, and safe holidays. Part of me wishes I could
be there to celebrate, but I�m also very happy to be here. The time is passing so quickly,
and in no time I�ll be back in Minnesota. I know I�ll miss france. I wish I could take the
best components of each country and form one country. In the mean time I�ve got to
make the most of my experience here--and I don�t regret that I came.
Much love to all, and happy holidays,
~Steph
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
For the quotes this time, I thought I�d try something new--quotes from people you
know--these are real quotes--(The ones from me were recorded by other people)-------
�I could have been a child genius, but I wasn�t smart enough�--
�Socialism--we�re giving it to you, but in a �you-don�t- really-want-it� kind of way�
--Jacob
�The basic problem with democracy is that it relies on the supposition that there are more
smart people than stupid people in the world. There aren�t. �--Stephanie
�But that was in 10th grade, and anything you say in 10th grade can�t be counted towards
your life�---Laura
�I should be getting boys. I have good birthing hips. Do you see any boys? Are these hips
getting any use?�--(I think we�ll leave this one anonymous to protect the
not-so-innocent--The next quote as well, for the same reason....)
�I want to be known as the girl who couldn�t keep her thighs together all four years of
college�--Anonymous
�There is a soul, but you can only see it with your eyes closed, and your mind open, your
heart stopped and your existence begun.�
�Chin up, and remember you are loved�--Katie
*********************************************************
NOVEMBER 17, 2000
[Stephanie does not aprove, condone,or practice spamming. If you believe you have
made it onto this list in error, please hit the reply button, and in the body of the message
write �unsubscribe�]
-----Just a warning-it�s a long one!----
-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
To see the world in a grain of sand,
and heaven in a wildflower,
hold infinity in the palm of your hand,
and eternity in an hour.
~Blake (from Auguries of Innocence)
------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
Dear friends, family and assorted random people who somehow made it onto this list-
--okay, so my opening is rather glib--but in my defense, I�ve spent all afternoon writing
personal letters that I will send out tommarow--I�ve been spending the last two weeks
avoiding writing letters, because all I wanted to do was curl up in bed with a cup of tea
(Thanks to Jo-who introduced me to that bizarre british custom of tea time while here),
and a good book (Which I am incidently out of----good books that is-I�ve read everything
I own 20 times--and while dear Jane is still my heroine of choice, around the 13 or 15th
reading, Mr Rochester starts getting on your nerves, and you start thinking maybe, just
maybe, he and Miss Ingram deserved each other....but I digress), and not leave my bed
until the junior highers I teach become adults...
Does anyone else remember Junior High? Oh what a hellish experience--It ought to have
been outlawed by the geneva convention as being cruel and unusual punishment--I�ve
already had to live it once, and now I feel like I�m living it all over again. Just stepping
into the the building with its institutional lighting, the smell of rancid cafeteria food, the
squeek of dirty tennis shoes, makes me want to revert back into the guache, akward,
insecure preadolecent I was.
It�s amazing-the classes here could have been transplanted from my own junior high
classes in the US--the same cast of characters-the popular guys who sit in the back and
make inane comments that keep half the class in hysterics, and the other half in
annoyance-- the one popular girl-(The lead guy�s girlfriend, who is into PDA, even in
class), and her clan of hang-on, look-alike followers that suceed in making every other girl
in the room at the same time envious and hateful- the desperate cling-ons who try to make
the popular group accept them, but end up being the butt of their jokes, the smart kid who
knows the answer to all the questions and is always the only one to raise her hand, the
quite kids who blend into the background, trying their hardest to make it though the day
without anyone noticing their existence--The soap opera relationships, the notes saying
check yes if you wanna �go� with me, and writing in �maybe�, the out of proportion
problems, the inflated egos that mask gross insecurities---it�s all too much--
Let me just say, at this moment, I have never appreciated my teachers more--and
esspecially true for junior high teachers--that they manage to keep their sanity is a miracle
in and of itself, and they all ought to be nominated for sainthood-(Well except for my
seventh grade math teacher who was blatant male chauvenist, even going so far as to
make comments as to women�s inferiority in math comprehension, and ought to have been
dismissed as far as I�m concern...but...bygones...)--So all of you-Go out and thank a
teacher today-take them out to coffe---dinner----buy them a car---;-) because believe me
they deserve it--So this goes out to all of my teacher on this list-thank you not only for
being fabulous teachers, but for being fabulous people as well--and for teaching me so
much over the years---
Anyway-as I was saying before I went off on an over-long tangent--My junior high classes
had me at wit�s end-throwing elastics, and ruber bands, and paper airplanes, and spitballs,
(Though I suppose I ought to be grateful that none have been aimed at ME), passing
around dirty pictures, hitting their neighbor when my back is turned---(Though I AM
supremely grateful that they aren�t drawing sperm all over the walls-(For those of you
who don�t know about that--well it�s too long of a story to descibe in this already too long
email--ask me sometime))--The hilarious thing about it all is that the students insist that
I�m their favorite teacher--I can only imagine what they act like with the teachers they
hate! I�ve had to be really strict and (I feel) mean in order to keep the peace--frankly, they
don�t need teachers, they need baby-sitters---or lion-tamers----this week is a better
however- I think they�ve realized I mean business since last week I sent at least one kid in
each class to the principal�s office-(Not arbitrarily-they were being REALLY awful)--
At the high school, I�m happy to report, they�re angels-I really enjoy them--There�s a lot
of cultural exchange gonig on--everyday I discover little things that they don�t know
about, or that I don�t know about. There are a couple of my student�s that i�ve become
friends with, and have come to visit me--Though despite the fact that I have the right to
�fratanize� with my students ( I would point out that they�re my age anyways...), and the
suggestion of a few of you to go ahead and do so....I don�t think it would be a good
idea--(Besides all the guys are so short!)--an interesting phenomenon though---you know
how foreign exchange students in the US always somehow are more attractive and
appealing?--I can tell you the phenomenon works over here as well............
On another note--I seem to have aquiered a cat--- She�s absolutely adorable- white with
reddish markings and green eyes--Wednesdays are market days, and there was a litter of
kittens that were being given away, and she was the last one--She�s sick, so no one
wanted her--(Let me just tell you right now that PETA obviously doesnt� have a
stronghold on this country the way they do in the US- no one vaccinates their animals,
gets them �fixed�, and if they have too many cats they drown them)--She was just too
adorable, and I couldn�t let anything happen to her, so I brought her home with me--I
named her �Minnie�, and I got her medication, but since I can�t keep her for good, (I can�t
bring her back to the states -Customs and all that), I�m going to try to find her a good
home when the next market day rolls around--which is probably a good thing since she
keeps chewing on the wires when I�m not looking, and would probably end up
electrocuting herself anyways--
This week my lesson has been on Thanksgiving, and it�s been making me long for the
holidays, Minnesota style--I want snow, and lights, and holidazzle, and the mall of
america, and Dayton�s displays, and candy canes with hot chocolate, and movies like
White Chistmas, and the general holiday cheer that goes along with it--They don�t really
get into it the way we do--no decorating of houses, and they don�t seem to understand
that christmas trees should be set up on thanksgiving weekend--On the upside, it�s still
green here-(Only really rainy), and the locals tell me that everything starts blooming in
February--so I promise when february rolls around, I�ll pick a wildflower for each of you.
I�ve been taking short walks at night simply to admire the beauty of the little town. I think
I like it best at night, because the french have a really fabulous sense of theatrical
lighting-The catholic church I live next to has the bell tower lit from across the river,
causing the light to diffuse in the mist, lending the statues of the saints upon the tower an
ominously realistic regard--but my favorite is an old midevil castle high on a hill that
overshadows the entire village, and at night the ramparts and turrents are lit from
underneath, giving the entire fortress the look as if it were floating in midair. When the
mist rolls in and is lit up by the lights from the castle, it looks like something straight out
of Macbeth--I keep expecting Banquo�s ghost or even Hamlet�s dead father to show up.
So at the moment that is my life here-hope a few people managed to make it through the
entire letter without falling asleep--
Thanks once again to all my letter writers, and package senders, and phone callers, and
emailers--I appreciate it all, and I can�t say it enough--
Much love to all-
Steph
There is not enough religion in the world to destroy the world�s religions-Nietzsche
Why does the airforce need expensive new bombers? Have the people we�ve been
bombing over the years been complaining?-Ray Bradbury
Rarely do great beauty and great virtue dwell together-Petrarch
Women with pasts interest men...they hope history will repeat itself-Mae West
Never judge a book by its movie-JW Eagan
Transported to a surreal landscape, a young girl kills the first woman she meets and then
teams up with three complete strangers to kill again--(Marion County Newspaper, review
of �The Wizard of Oz�)
________________________________________________________________________