Letters from the Inside, Sarah Pender, #29

Dear Kelly,

Thanks for your letter and latest blog entries. And a cute guinea pig love story. My sister and I had a guinea pig as our first pet. Well, I think it was my sister's pet, but she grew tired of it after about three days. Once you realize they are NOT cuddly, and ready to bolt at a moment's notice, their value diminishes. The smell of pee-soaked cedar shipcs, it drops to near zero. My; first official pet was a mouse. Jeni picked one, I picked one, and assured they were both males, we housed them together in a 10-gallon aquarium. The first set of pink babies did not amuse my parents. We took out the male, but understimated the early age at which mice copulate. Eventually it became impossible to separate them and there aren't too many parents who like the idea of pet mice escaping and taking up residence in their walls and kitchen cabinets, which did happen to us. Twice. Once, my favorite pet hamster escaped. I was devastated. Four days later, I was huddled on top of the floor heater vent, swathed in a blanket, hogging all of the dry heat when I heard a scratching noise just after the heat went off. After fishing down the dark hole beneath the vent, I lured her back to my arms with food pellets. The second incident was a mouse my sister had been secretly keeping in a bucket in her room. The cat knocked over the bucket a few days later and mom found it beneath the foil covering a pan of iced cupcakes with sprinkles. She named it Cupcake and played with it and remarked about how it was awfully tame to be a field mouse. We just nodded and let her have her new pet Cupcake.

I enjoyed reading more about what you do for a living. I sort of got used to the idea that you spent your days daing underqualified men, entertaining Mini, typing blogs and showering a lot.

I'ts interesting that you wrote, "I hate all this uncertainty, always feeling like a failure." Really? How do we identify ourselves as failures? I have certainly felt that way before. I mean, really, look at my life. But this is what I got: why do you feel like a failure when the outcome has NOTHING to do with you?

A client quits. -- I see no Kelly K**** in that failure.

A client is a pain in the ass, uninformed, and fires you--Sure, this affects you, ut the outcome is that the act of retaining a client failed. Not you.

NoteGuy is a jerk. You no longer date. The relationship failed. Not you.

You couldn't get press for client XYZ- The reporter failed to write a story you pitched. Not you.

When you can get out of a work that centers around you and see that the failures are all actoins that failed to perfrom in a certain desired way, then maybe you'll stop feeling like shit about yourself and it will open up more neat avenues or creative opportunities. I say fuck carrying around all that baggage yourself. Unless one of the wheels on your suitcase fails to roll along properly.

Restorative yoga blog cracked me up. This is more confirmation that truth is stranger than fiction. I started writing more blogs this past week. Sending off my third one tonight to be typed. I found that when I have a stupid or funny story or a complaint, I just write about it and I either get some dark humor ormake a philosophical point or both AND I get good practice at writing and now I"m making good use of the blog page. Mom set up an FB page. I need to know what all I can put up there. Like links or can I upload documents or images. I guess FB is the world's #1 social network. Wild. And I"m getting better at naming, so my chapters will be more creatively titled. The last three I wrote: The Blame Game, Barf Blog or was it Battle of the Barf? , and damn, I think I forgot to write the title of the first one: Cheese food or something. Anyway--having fun. Writing...


And now I"m doing more drawing. Today I drew a meat-eating pitcher plant, a bird in a cherry blossomed tree, an avocado tree, and a little Buddha statue. Some of them, I will paint over with watercolor. I found I have a new talent. I'll send you one when I make a reproduction of an original. You'll like it, I think.

I always look forward to your letters. I enjoy your writing. And you are fun. I like your brave attempts at managing and naviaging your life.

Oh! A guy from Indigo Films wrote Monday, wanting an interview for a documentary for a TV series. I wrote a reply and inquiry. Seems interesting. I'll keep you updated.

Take Care!

Sarah