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Wednesday, July 28, 2010

41st and 42nd email

----- Original Message -----
From: Stacey Marchenkova
To: dom borax < >
Sent: Tuesday, May 18th, 1999 20:41 PM
Subject: RE RE RE RE RE RE RE RE RE Another drink

How about Thursday? Lunch?
I’ll be the one hiding behind a pile of Catholic lit’...

----- Original Message -----
From: Dom Borax
To: Stacey Marchenkova
Sent: Tuesday, May 18th, 1999 21:10 PM
Subject: RE RE RE RE RE RE RE RE RE RE another drink

See you then, Stacey.


PS I’ll be the one wearing the torn pages of L Ron Hubbard’s book as an Admiral’s hat.

Sunday, July 25, 2010

38th - 40th email

----- Original Message -----
From: Dom Borax
To: Stacey Marchenkova
Sent: Sunday, May 16th, 1999 11:11 PM
Subject: RE RE RE RE RE RE another drink

Oh Fuck, I’ve screwed it haven’t I? I’m so sorry.
Can I ring you?

----- Original Message -----
From: Stacey Marchenkova
To: Dom borax < >
Sent: Monday, May 17th, 1999 23:52 PM
Subject: RE RE RE RE RE RE RE Another drink

you haven’t screwed’s me…it’s gotten all complicated…
I’m sorry for being all cryptic now…

I think it’s only fair we sit down and talk…clear the air…

I really like you…but something odd has happened…
something I didn’t expect…

and you’re such a nice guy… truly…one of the nicest I’ve ever met…

now I’m raving…

see this is why I try and keep disconnected…it gets all confusing…

I mean I really understand those people that hide behind branded clothing and cool hunting as an excuse to not feel…

all they care about is the conversation of the next big thing…cause the moment we take it all away what’s left?

Just us, I guess…and then pain, fear, tears, loneliness all creep in
And I’m fucking bitch…I’m such a fucking bitch

So sorry
Let’s meet and talk…please
And then maybe not write for a bit…

----- Original Message -----
From: Dom Borax
To: Stacey Marchenkova
Sent: Tuesday, May 18th, 1999 8:32 AM
Subject: RE RE RE RE RE RE RE RE another drink

Okay where do you want to meet?
Somewhere not too bitchy, right?

How about that spiritual bookshop in Edward Street? Perfect place for a Nihilist, right?

And I know it stinks of patchouli oil but maybe we could get irritated over the sleepily aggressive hippies instead of ourselves. I’d prefer that.

I still think you’re excellent by the way – whatever.


Wednesday, July 21, 2010

37th email

----- Original Message -----
From: Stacey Marchenkova
To: dom borax < >
Sent: Sunday, May 16th, 1999 20:52 PM
Subject: RE RE RE RE RE RE Another drink


I don’t think we should write any more e-mails for a while.


Wednesday, July 14, 2010

36th email

----- Original Message -----
From: Dom Borax
To: Stacey Marchenkova
Sent: Sunday, May 16th, 1999 11:24 AM
Subject: RE RE RE RE another drink

Dear Stacey,

I loved last night. I really did. I’m so sorry that my friends barged in like that. I honestly didn’t know they where coming. But you seemed to like them anyway. Or at least pretended you liked them.

Marcus rang me this morning to say he had a nice night by the way. He also wanted me to pass on a hello.
So, hello, from Marcus.

He was all weird and cryptic too – but that’s Marcus. He can be a fucking pain, I tell you. I think he plays it ‘all secret codes’ and allusions to boost his currency.
Once he told me that he thinks he knows every word in the dictionary.

Anyway, back to last night:
Can I tell you what I really liked about last night?
I really liked how there were ten other people crowded around the table, but at some point they became just a collective and we were the only two individuals left.
Did you feel that?

I also love how we talked for hours - sitting quite close and telling secrets. Well maybe not secrets (note to self; stop inflating everything) I guess we just shared stories.

And it wasn’t that we were ignoring the other people. It was just we took our time, our space and owned it.

I know I sound a little like one of those people that I usually want to drown in their own opinion – but it felt special in a way.

Maybe I shouldn’t dwell on it. Maybe I should take a leaf out of your book and live in the moment.

But I can’t stop thinking of it. Here’s my favourite moment:
It was about one o’clock in the morning. I guess I was a little drunk, the steak was sitting well in the stomach and you had half a beer left. We had just stopped talking about how many sexual partners we’d had and I lied telling you twelve (once we know each other better, I’ll tell you the real number)

You’d only had three (not sure if that’s the truth either – not that I’m calling you a slut – okay I’ve gone a little mad, now - back to the moment…)

So it was one o’clock and I realised that I’d been sitting on those aluminium chairs for hours. And with all the beer I needed to excuse myself.

Actually I’d needed to excuse myself for ages; but I was so enjoying your company, I didn’t want to leave it.

The truth is I thought that once I leave – even for that brief moment – I knew that when I came back someone else could be sitting in my chair trying to have the same conversation with you. And you’d be polite. You wouldn’t tell them to leave. You’d listen to them. You’d maybe even like them and that’s okay. It would simply mean that our moment was over. And it had to end sometime, right?

So there I was in the bathroom, trying to be as quick as possible and my mind was racing.

I was flashing through each small moment that we had, trying to grasp onto it as one lump. Trying to relive the moments quickly for in doing so I might fill the gap.

But as I washed my hands, I got a glimpse of my face in the bathroom mirror and I stopped. I actually stopped and took a breath and I heard you. I heard your existentialism and felt calm. It was just me and my breathing and the moment and everything was calm. I didn’t have fear, I didn’t have jealousy, I didn’t have expectation and I didn’t have disappointment. Instead I had a playful and refreshing sense of nothing.

It was genuine, truly genuine.

With this new found sense, I stood and walked out of the bathroom and to my surprise I saw you sitting in the same spot. You hadn’t moved and there was no one sitting next to you. My place was still there, my chair. The collective had still remained without character and you and I were the only two people left on earth.

So I approached. You looked up when I was near and you smiled. You smiled at me. I don’t think I’ve ever had anyone really smile at me - ever. Not like your smile.
So I sat down - back in my chair and I felt it was different. My all night groove in it was slightly out of shape. And then you told me:

“People had tried to sit there but I told them it was taken.”

It was taken.

That was my favourite moment. Indeed I think it has definitely been my favourite moment of the year.

Thanks for giving me that.


PS sorry I left so abruptly. Started to get the head spins.

35th email

----- Original Message -----
From: Stacey Marchenkova
To: dom borax < >
Sent: Saturday, May 15th, 1999 3:19 AM
Subject: RE RE RE Another drink

Dom, I can’t stop smiling…’re a nice man…I’m going to sleep now with a big smile on my face…and in the morning I’ll still be smiling…and maybe I’ll write some upbeat lyrics like

Wonderful morning
Night is mourning

Okay got a wee bit maudlin at the end…but I do prefer the night as my email send times can attest…

And, buster…you’ll never have to buy my cds as I will always give you one (cds that is – see now you’ve got me smiling I’ve come over all ‘ooohh matron….’)

Good night…
See you this evening…

Sunday, July 11, 2010

34th email

----- Original Message -----
From: Dom Borax
To: Stacey Marchenkova
Sent: Friday, May 14th, 1999 23:38 PM
Subject: RE RE another drink


You’d be a great musician. I’d buy your CDs. Indeed:

I’d buy your CDs and beg you for an autograph.

I’d buy your CDs to give to friends for birthdays and holidays.

I’d steal your CDs.

I’d buy your CDs, return them and buy them again.

I’d buy your CDs, leave it on the train so some stranger would pick it up and listen
to it.

I’d buy your CDs - go to the Library - leave it there - hire it – not take it out and tell others to hire it so more people would listen to it.

I’d buy more copies of your CDs to keep my copy company.

I’d buy one special copy of your CD to keep in my CD player all the time.

I’d buy your CD and listen to it in coffee shops and aeroplanes so people will think I’m interesting.

I’d buy one of your CDs and keep it private. Just for me.

I’d buy your CDs, get the rights and make a light Opera from it that makes people wanna buy your CD after seeing said light opera.

I’d buy your CDs, rip out the liner notes and make a CD suit out of it.

I’d buy your CDs and make castles out of it.

I’d buy your CDs and proudly tell people that I knew the songwriter once; indeed we met at the Norman one night and wolfed down a steak in 1999.

See you tomorrow night.

Warmly and musically.

Wednesday, July 7, 2010

33rd email

----- Original Message -----
From: Stacey Marchenkova
To: dom borax < >
Sent: Friday, May 14th, 1999 21:11 PM
Subject: Another drink

Here I am…sitting at home again…Friday night…feeling sorry for myself…

Where are my friends…shouldn’t I be out with them…getting drunk...and talking about the television shows we watched as kids:

…do you remember Fraggle Rock? What about Bert and Ernie sharing a bath…? What about The Tomorrow People? I loved that show… what about the commercial with the talking cat warning you about something or other? Or that Christian ad where the glass-eyed boy sang a rhetorical ‘hello’…

You know what I mean…? Surely you do that with friends…

It all starts polite, then people try to impress with their smart-arse knowledge…

then it gets all popular culture…

then gangs split off based on shared smart-arse knowledge…

then a hierarchy builds based on who has the best recall…

then the geeks inherit the earth…

and the rest of us turn mean

Anyway…here I was with my head going a million miles an hour…feeling hollow and your email arrives…I have someone who cares, I think…

Then I get annoyed…

This is the very reason I live and only live in the present because it makes me crazy to worry about what people think of me…

And I cry…I always cry…I hate crying…makes me look like a fucking puffer fish…

I especially hate crying over stupid things like;

Why hasn’t anyone asked me out

See, I like to cry over the small moments. The man eating alone in the restaurant or the smell of a storm coming…or that great pop lyric… or that great piece of urban art… or the child with a red balloon…

This is what I like to cry about, not WHY DON”T PEOPLE LIKE ME!!??

Then I read your email and your invitation in the post script to have another drink makes the world turn again…

It’s a moment…it’s the present (and though I dwell on it now) at the time it fixed everything and reminded me of my life philosophy.


I thank you for that, Dom, I really do. And in principle, let’s have another drink…perhaps we can bump into each other accidentally at my local (The Norman) tomorrow night. I'm usually (if the moment takes me) wolf down a steak around 7:00ish.


ps Okay so you want to know what my ambitions are…? Well to be honest I try not to have any because it contradicts my life philosophy…but I am human…and I have…in moments of weakness…thought it would be amazing to be a musician/songwriter… (I play the piano a little and the ukulele a lot)

pps and you also want to know what I do for work...I work in a bar in the Valley…drunk people are so funny…

ppps and yes I want the last word... so Dog Suggestion name #14: Sir Pantsalot (I wanted to say Kennel Everett – but thought that was too lame as the last word)

Sunday, July 4, 2010

31st and 32nd email

----- Original Message -----
From: Stacey Marchenkova
To: dom borax < >
Sent: Thursday, May 13th, 1999 20:32 PM
Subject: RE RE Smart Arse

Sorry didn’t delete your “I find you attractive" declaration...

It will remain up front and the read again and again...until you break the thread and start a new subject…


PPS dog name suggestion #12: Fetcher Christian (can we stop this soon)

----- Original Message -----
From: Dom Borax
To: Stacey Marchenkova
Sent: Thursday, May 13th, 1999 21:03 PM
Subject: RE RE RE smart arse


I didn’t break the thread!

Am I torturing myself (note to self; stop doing that – I’ve only got a cat-o-five tails left)

Or am I reminding you of my feelings?

Or am I reminding me of my feelings?

Or am I hoping that if the declaration is still present you might – one day – actually say you find me attractive too???!!!

I am so bold


PS Wanna have another drink soon? Maybe you’ll tell me what you do for a living when drunk? Or at least your ambitions…

PPS: Dog Suggestion #13: Canine the Barbarian (you want to have the last word?)
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