211th - 216th email

From: Stacey Marchenkova
To: dom borax < mailto:printthisplease@hotmail.com >
Sent: Monday August 5th, 1999 00:14 AM
Subject: A new day?

Okay I’ve just finished Dracula…not sure why I chose to finish that book tonight…as now I’m a little worried and think that the Count has taken you…maybe I should have finished Confederacy of Dunces instead…been trying to finish it for six months…but Bram Stoker won out in the end…

It’s funny how I do that…I never read one book at a time…I’m always reading five or six books at a time…it’s not that I don’t like them…I just want some kind of variety or something…it’s like channel surfing with lit’…and there’s always one that emerges anyway…and Dracula was that tonight…have you read it? It’s really good…I was so caught up in the other retellings of the story that I had no idea the book was so good…no one’s really made a decent film out of it…and if folk aren’t reading the book because they think they know the story already…think again, folk…you’re wrong…pick it up today and read it immediately….

Now I’m raving…can’t sleep at the best of times…and with you…out there…after Elsa said that stuff at the party…so publicly…with your friend…I keep hearing her words when she announced it – I can’t get it out of my head;

“At least he doesn’t make me feel like an idiot”

And then you told her… and she hit you… and it all feels like an afternoon American soap opera…

At least Marcus doesn’t know…

…should I tell him…?







From: Stacey Marchenkova
To: dom borax < mailto:printthisplease@hotmail.com >
Sent: Monday August 5th, 1999 03:11 AM
Subject: it’s so quiet

Don’t you love the wee small hours? It’s so quiet like you could be the last person left on earth…I’d love to be the last person left on earth…or at least the last gaggle of folk…I think that’s why I like the lighthouse doctor who episode so much…it’s like they’re the last people left on earth…actually not really…but as a kid…I fantasized about living on a lighthouse…just me… some supplies… a dog... and a healthy dose of mist…

I think I’m a little tired…







From: Stacey Marchenkova
To: dom borax < mailto:printthisplease@hotmail.com >
Sent: Monday August 5th, 1999 06:59 AM
Subject: dawn

The sun is rising…haven’t slept…gone a little mad and eaten all the salty snacks in the house…I tried to sleep but couldn’t…I wanted to be here in case you called…I hope you’re okay…I’m okay…I’m wearing felt-soft terry toweling clothes…toasty warm with dinosaur slippers…sorry they where a gift from my mother…but they do growl when I walk and as much as it shouldn’t - I’m still amused by them…

I also drove around for a few hours last night…I love driving at night…no one around…just me…I have no direction, I turn when I want to turn and stop when I want to stop…I drove past your house…but the lights were off…I think I saw Crisps car…anyway I ended up by the river…I always end up by the river…north where they still have that old wooden crossing-barge-like-thing…not sure what they call them…anyway ended up there…cranked up the stereo and listened to the News….god I love singing along to the news…

“Everybody now… hundreds dead in a Chinese Mud slide… He-di-hee...hi-di-ha...”

Okay that’s just poor taste…the garbage trucks are now in the street….men with fat voices yelling over the loud mechanics…clash of tin and metal and the stink of rotten food and lavender bin liners…okay now I am truly raving…I might put my head down…







From: Stacey Marchenkova
To: dom borax < mailto:printthisplease@hotmail.com >
Sent: Monday August 5th, 1999 7:21AM
Subject: Maybe you’re at work…

Maybe you’ll be at work (kinda just wrote that twice – once in the subject and now in message line itself…fuck, Stacey…why are you rationalizing and telling him everything…whatever…just thought you might be at work…you start at 9:00, hey? Okay, I’m going to try you at work…

I wonder if Oftenbark knows where you are…







From: Stacey Marchenkova
To: oftenbark < mailto:ofentbark@hotmail.com >
Sent: Monday August 5th, 1999 07:37 AM
Subject: Where’s Dom?

Oftenbark, do you know where Dom is? Give him a lick for me if you see him...

(Sorry that sounds wrong)

I’m going to sleep now…good boy…good girl…good us…







From: Stacey Marchenkova
To: dom borax < mailto:printthisplease@hotmail.com >
Sent: Monday August 5th, 1999 7:59AM
Subject: Maybe you’re at work…

Okay, I think I’ve worked it out…you must be plotting revenge…I’d be plotting revenge…after what she said…what they did…I mean, I know we’re not that much better…but we didn’t rub their faces in it…but…

God is that better…? Are we better? Are we the same? I think we’re the same…maybe sneakier…maybe we’re worse…it’s all so complicated…

I don’t know…

Actually I do know…

I know telling everyone at the party that she was seeing your best friend is wrong… I know she was drunk…but still and all…why would you stand there and tell you that was she cheating…and then to hit you…man those dancers can choreograph a great beating…I don’t know if you saw Crisps face (stupid name by and by) but he was ashen, wan and washen…

I mean what a way to clean out a party…

...and just to be clear…this wasn’t your fault…you didn’t make her do it…you didn’t turn her to him…you didn’t make her hit you…I know we are the same…but she didn’t know…not then--

I think I heard you at the front door?

Is that you…I think I hear oftenbark…

Sending this anyway

59th email

----- Original Message -----
From: Stacey Marchenkova
To: dom borax < mailto:printthisplease@printthis.com >
Sent: Wednesday, June 2nd, 1999 23:00 PM
Subject: RE a New week

Is horror at fang rock the one in a lighthouse…?

If so I do actually like that one. The lighthouse keeper with a beard, huh…? Actually are any of them clean shaven – surely being a lighthouse keeper means you have to have a beard, right?

God, I’m beginning to sound like you…

…If that was the one, I found it really frightening…he had a mad, evil look…and though I actually find ‘doctor who’ really embarrassing most of the time…that one scared me…

I think my folks were splitting up when ABC played it and to offer more punishment I sat down to watch it…I kinda thought me father was the creature…or the lighthouse…daddy’s phallus…or something like that…

Anyway I haven’t thought about it in years…

I actually remember thinking while watching it - well it’s not the end of the world, Stacey…at least you don’t live in a lighthouse or are crashing on rocks…or live in Victorian times…or are being possessed by some evil creature…or are fighting for your life against some inflated afternoon-made monster created by the BBC props department…

…all I am is a chick whose folks are going their separate ways…and good on them…for if they stayed together I’m sure she would possess him or he would try to kill her or both would crash into each other’s rocks at some point…

After they split, I didn’t watch doctor who anymore…see my mother thought TV was generally bad and though ABC was acceptable…she really meant ABC news was really acceptable…so TV just slipped away…

…but I found books then…

my mother approved…and I guess it’s hard to beat bronte…and in a way horror at fang rock and bronte have some connections… rocks, rain…Yorkshire…and a girlish yearn to kiss at least one person in the story…

Oh fuck it…I’ve just reread what I wrote

…I’ve become one of those people I hate…

…talking about childhood and the TV we watched…as if others are interested in kiddie reminisces…and I’m not even drunk…I’m not even trying to find some common place based on try hard pop culture…

See now I’m looking back…shit and fuck…man…how did you do that to me?

Anyway happy to read that you’re back, buster…that’s good…

Happy to read we’re back…that’s better…


Stacey

PS I guess a good name suggestion for your next dog could’ve been Tom Barker :(

PPS If it helps, I forgave you over a week ago…

I forgave you after I read your email about the Hilton…indeed it made me feel more like the monster…it made me feel like I needed forgivness…

So there you have it…Stacey M is actually one of those foam bubble wrap creatures created by the BBC props department to scare the shit out of five year olds on a Saturday evening…hide behind the couch little ones coz here comes Stacey…arghhhhhhh…

58th email

----- Original Message -----
From: Dom Borax
To: Stacey Marchenkova
Sent: Tuesday, June 1st, 1999 6.05 AM
Subject: A new week.
Dear Stacey,

I did opt for number 10. And it’s now one week later.

Weird week too. As you can probably guess I likes me ole email.

So it was painful indeed.

I attempted to watch all the Merchant Ivory films but by the time I got to Howard’s End my flatmate, Elsa found me being passive aggressive to some inanimate objects and subtly sleazy to others (can you guess which?).

So the computer stayed off and I embraced the world (in case I shagged it – give away!!!).

Wednesday was the worst.
Cold turkey. Ate a turkey.

And tried to stop thinking the computer was actually watching me.

Thursday was easier. I ventured out of the house – bought a toasted chicken sandwich and rearranged the second hand records in Rocking Horse from my least favourite to favourite.

That night, I came home and put a blanket over the computer because I swear it scowled at me.

Friday I thought I should exercise - so slept for the day and dreamt that I married the computer in a civil ceremony (Bill Gates gave me away).

Saturday I moved the computer into the cupboard because I swear it was cheating on me with Steve Jobs.

Sunday I chased faith in various churches to see if there is a God. (I think he was running late)

When I got home, the computer had moved. It was now in my bed, begging for some break up sex.

Monday I want to Uni and got into an argument with a philosophy major over Star Wars. Fuck, I hate myself.

I then came home and took it out on the computer – was really cruel to it -– “You think you know everything, but you don’t know how to feel!”

So I put the computer back in the cupboard and locked the door this time.

Tuesday I woke early in a fever, got the computer out of the cupboard and finally turned it on. It refused to speak to me, hovering around dos with that awful blinking silence of the flashing cursor.

Eventually it did speak. It groaned and crashed.

I rebooted it with love, saying ‘there there’ in safe mode and it softened.
And then I e-mailed you.

How has your week been?


Dom

PS I like Doctor Who by the way. Tom Baker really. Have you ever seen Horror at Fang Rock? Cheap as shit but kinda creepy.

PPS So do you forive me?

PPS I really liked your Jenny Wrangler story.

56th email

----- Original Message -----
From: Stacey Marchenkova
To: dom borax < mailto:printthisplease@printthis.com >
Sent: Tuesday, May 25th, 1999 18:29 PM
Subject: RE RE RE RE RE RE RE RE RE RE RE RE so sorry

Okay, I started this e-mail a number of times…re-read it, deleted etc…

…in one version I forgive you…and all is right…no fight…easy…

…in another I am protective and heavily use ‘I’ statements…god, I hate ‘I’ statements…I really do… I really, really do…

…finally I started writing a list of things you could do to gain my forgiveness as you suggested…

I didn’t delete that one…so here goes…please chose one…not all…just one…

(and fearing the lack of intended wryness – please put on your wry goggles now)


1: Put two pencils up your nose and smash them hard onto a desk.

2: Drink a lot of cough medicine, inhale madly on Benzedrine, swallow some medislim
tablets and then read James Elroy’s White Jazz in one sitting and truly get it.

3: Join a Doctor Who fan club with no irony.

4: Invent something that will change the world…

5: Try to convince at least three people that Pig Latin is actually an elitist form of communication between pigs…

6: Try and speak Pig Latin to a pig for at least an hour (need written proof from the pig for this one)

7: Kill Jenny Wrangler (a girl I went to primary school with who made my lunchtimes a misery by not letting me be part of her ‘charlie’s angels’ club)

8: Watch all the Merchant Ivory films in a row.

9: Become homeless for a day and then brag patronisingly to at least ten people that you truly understand the plight of the disenfranchised.

10: Step away from the computer and don’t use e-mail for a least a week.