169th - 177th email

From: Dom Borax
To: Stacey Marchenkova
Sent: Saturday July 27th, 1999 17:31 PM
Subject: RE RE RE RE RE RE RE RE RE RE Last night’s call

You are such a good kisser and I love your neck.




From: Stacey Marchenkova
To: dom borax < mailto:printthisplease@hotmail.com >
Sent: Sunday, July 28th, 1999 2:31 AM
Subject: Again?

You want to do it again? My neck is waiting.




From: Dom Borax
To: Stacey Marchenkova
Sent: Sunday July 28th, 1999 10:21 AM
Subject: RE Again?

Oh yes. Let me work out a time.




From: Stacey Marchenkova
To: dom borax < mailto:printthisplease@hotmail.com >
Sent: Sunday July 28th, 1999 11:11 AM
Subject: RE RE Again?

I’m getting impatient.




From: Dom Borax
To: Stacey Marchenkova
Sent: Sunday July 28th, 1999 13:21 PM
Subject: RE RE RE Again?

I need to make it look innocent.




From: Stacey Marchenkova
To: dom borax < mailto:printthisplease@hotmail.com >
Sent: Sunday July 28th, 1999 16:01 PM
Subject: RE RE RE RE Again?

It’s far from innocent.




From: Dom Borax
To: Stacey Marchenkova
Sent: Sunday July 28th, 1999 19:33 PM
Subject: RE RE RE RE RE Again?

Are you being filthy? Or are you being moral?





From: Stacey Marchenkova
To: dom borax < mailto:printthisplease@hotmail.com >
Sent: Sunday July 28th, 1999 22:22 PM
Subject: RE RE RE RE RE RE Again?

Both.




From: Dom Borax
To: Stacey Marchenkova
Sent: Monday July 29th, 1999 9:16 AM
Subject: RE RE RE RE RE RE RE Again?

Now I really need to see you too. I can’t stop thinking about it.

168th email

From: Stacey Marchenkova
To: dom borax < mailto:printthisplease@hotmail.com >
Sent: Saturday, June 27th, 1999 13:42 PM
Subject: RE RE RE RE RE RE RE RE RE Last night’s call

You are such a good kisser.

100th email

From: Stacey Marchenkova
To: Dom Borax
Sent: Monday, July 2nd, 1999 21:01 PM
Subject: RE RE Just for you

Dear Oftenbark

…here’s who I was thinking of in the small hours of Saturday morning when Marcus was trying to be passionate…

It was around four in the morning…lovely and quiet…usually my time actually…but for this moment I was sharing it with him…

we were in bed…and he was going through the usual warm up routine…

I know it’s only been a short romance so far…but I’m already familiar with the gently nudging of the neck as a starting line for a what is fast becoming a shagging marathon in high altitude…

As the miles passed…I found myself drifting…I thought of this guy I met when I was in high school…we only kissed…but it was so unbelievably hot…

We met as a blind date would you believe…set up by my cousin for his sixteenth birthday party…it was a Saturday… quite warm…the guests where all wearing small amounts of clothing…her pool had the proper phd, the garden was clad in outdoor Chinese lanterns…

…and the punch was spiked…

I arrived a little late…had an argument with my Mother about curfew…she’d then refused to drive me…so I caught public transport…time wasting…got to the shin dig an hour over…

Upon arriving…I bailed up my cousin… I gave her the family cuckoo gift…a funky hat she’d had her eye on…

She was happy and already merry from the punch…she kissed me…her breath was hot, sweet and rendered with Bacardi…she then, without any shame dragged me to my blind date…his name was Paul…

My cousin slurred an introduction…

Stacey – Paul
Paul – Stacey

‘Remember this moment, guys as I’m so going to talk about this at your wedding…’

My cousin then gave a well timed comic hiccup and staggered away.
And we were alone...silence...dread…what do we say…? We don’t know each other…we’re both single, sure… but…do we smell right to each other…?

Fortunately he was cute…classic looking…indeed a little retro…sun bleached hair…nice shaped eyes, red splashed cheeks with just the right amount of freckles…his teeth were not too perfect…not too cubist… just the right side of artistically off…

And I think he didn’t mind my look either…I did look kinda cute in a mid nineties way…cute clip in my hair…shorter then…and stained dark…fake glasses to make me look smart...what an idiot...

Anyway…after a few pleasant information sharing sentences…we both decided to brush of the resume and talk truly…we moved under the steps leading up to my Cousin’s high set house…we both had a glass of the spiked punch and were perched on two hewn besser blocks…after a breath, Paul confessed that this was his first blind date and that he was relieved I wasn’t blind at all…

Now I know this is a little lame…but I was younger…less defined…and prone to polite laughter…so I did just that…

…but then he truly surprised me…he admitted that his last statement was foolish…indeed he called it an ‘uncle’ statement…meaning those groaning piths that any chuckle-addicted Uncle utters at large family get togethers…

…and this time I really laughed…and before I knew it the night was fast nearing an end…we’d spoken for hours…not sure what about…it was cooler and most guests were getting picked up…and it was clear the night was over…

He lived quite close by and was walking home…I was staying…

And soon we’d say goodnight…

In those last few minutes it was awkward…are we going to kiss? I really wanted him to kiss me…I really wanted a passionate moment…I was a little punchy…but I was also flushed…and impatient…

…so I kissed him…

And we kissed for ages…until it hurt…until our people had sent out scouts to see if we were safe…and even though they called our names…we kept kissing and kissing and kissing…

Changing positions but never breaking contact…no one leading…just kissing…

It was so wonderful…

After our time…we slowly separated…we looked at each other…eyes now open and adjusting to whatever light was left under the stairway to my Cousin’s front door…

We didn’t say anything …we just looked…and he walked away…home…

I never saw him again…didn’t want too…the moment was so special, the last thing I wanted was to truly discover him and have it tarnished…it was a great moment…just that…a great moment…

It was at this point in my life, I started formulating my existential viewpoint… why have expectation…why have judgment…why have prejudice to cloud the perfect moment…

And I deeply tried to never think of it again until Marcus was on top of me …

I so needed something to keep me from crying…and when I though of Paul…that’s when I thought of the night we shared…the long kiss… the short goodbye…and it was so damn sexy…

I slept well that night…

Does that answer your question, OftenbarK?


Love
Stacey

23rd email

----- Original Message -----
From: Stacey Marchenkova
To: dom borax < mailto:printthisplease@printthis.com >
Sent: Sunday, May 9th, 1999 19:23 PM
Subject: RE RE RE Please ignore the last e-mail

Okay buster…do you want me to tell you that I wanted to be kissed?
Do you want to me to tell you that I thought of you kissing me?
Do you want me to tell you that it hadn’t occurred to me but then I read your e-mail and I did think about you kissing me?

The truth is the sentiment of a kiss is very appealing…and that’s it…just the idea…

Not the people involved…not you…not even me…just the idea…

I know that sounds harsh…but it saves me from getting confused…

I do get confused…and I learnt that if I just focused on the idea and blurred everything around it…the world became easier to understand…

Simply I just break it down into behaviour, not personality…

For if I break it down into personality then there is you and there is me and there is us and there are the people in my past and there is my family and there are those in the public eye and there are those people you like and those you don’t like and there are the people that you see most days but never talk to…

And then I get confused and abandon all that I believe in.

Have you read Nietzsche? Or even Sylvia Plath? If you read them, you’ll get what I mean.

Not that I mean to sound mean…just being honest to my own beliefs…you know…

And I’m not cold…some say I am…but I’m not…I care so much I want to hurt myself sometimes…do you ever feel like that?


Stacey

PS Okay here’s a snippet of what I edited out of my drunken email:

“…and when we played the ‘let’s pretend we’re old people and married’ game and you confessed you had an affair, it actually hurt…even though it wasn’t real and we were riffing…it still hurt…

it was odd how it hurt…

I guess I was in the moment and truly felt the betrayal…

I remember saying that I knew…but I didn’t…it took me by surprise…

I wanted to cry (and for a split second) hit you…and then I remembered it was all a game…so to save face…I said I knew and I didn’t care…fuck, I hate my pride…”

PPS And dog name suggestion #1: Tom Woof or Virginia Woof for that matter.

(and please don’t let your dog read this email…not only is it private but I’d hate him to think I was being insensitive)