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.