Letters from the Inside, Sarah Pender, #57

Dear Kelly,

I'm looking at three envelopes from you and am trying to figure out what I have done wiht the last three weeks of my life.
Lots of stress.
Like, please fucking shoot me sort of stress.
But first, to your news.

I was surprised to hear of the attitudes and actions of airport personal and airline stewards. Once upon a time, airlines treated their passengers like cherished foreign dignitaries. What happened? And with such high unemployment rates across the country, don't you think that people would want to hang on to their jobs? If lay-offs are coming or cutbacks---and you ar ehte #1 complained about employee, you should bve a little worried. And with so much airline competition you'd think the airlines would be more cognizant of customer's needs. I guess when demand is super high quality gets bumped down the list of priorities.

I loved the play by play story about your trip to Mexico. i do not think I have ever---I am sure I have never heard anyone use the term "demento tears". Depsite the insanely neurotic start to the trip, I am quite pleased you ended up having a "magical and glorious time".

I am curious about whether Amir's conversations of love and future trips to the mountains and Mexico and your happiness will survive February 14th. Clearly, your relationship has evolved in that daily calls, texts, emails, multiple house sleepovers, poems and friend interactions are a huge leap from just Thanksgiving and even Christmas.

Plans for Valentine's Day and your "anniversary' are also HUGE. Really if you keep hanging in there, you will win by default. He chooses to spend all his time and energy on/with you so that naturally he doesn't have time or energy for others.

And really how many men write tragic love poems when they are plagued with Hershey squirts. Perhaps he used his time on the toilet quite wisely? Dman, that guy loves you.

Even if he doesn't "know what that means" he still feels it. And real love is a choice, isn't it? A choice to care and care for another without restrictions? You love him whether or not he dates other women. He loves you whether you make demands or public emotions. That's love.

I dig your new haircut. Very swank. Versatile. Easy. Breezy. Beautiful. Maybe you shoudl tell Amir that he must stay with you until your hair grows back out, since he talked you into it. He just signed a two-year lease.

The pouty lip picture with your careless wisps of hair and bug-eyed sunglasses is FABULOUS

You are fun.

A recap of the prior three weeks: Slowly and steadily, I have developed nervous habits that are exacerbated by general stressors. Nail cleaning, cuticle picking, skin biting, lip gnawing, scalp scratching, ear swabbing to name a few. Lately it was as if someone had punched a puree button and left me to cut, pick, and chew myself into a pulp. I began buy 6 and 7 bags of sunflower kernals per week to chrew on one by one with my front teeth like a neurotic squirrel in order to keep my choppers distracted from the rest of my body. It works to save most of my skin, but has also left another five pounds on my already spreading thighs and bulging belly.

A necessary evil.

Then came the gentle rocking while sitting and swaying while standing. Totally compulsory, and rather soothing. Then I found myself unable to think or talk well, and interrupted myself several times from digging tunnelts through my palms with my nails from tightly clenched fists. Over three or four days I became a totaly crosswire failture and broke down in a fury of tears, snot and grieving wails.

Apparently, I have some unexpressed emotions to deal with for a week, I examined myself permission to relax, read and be creative without expectation, without purpose. It felt good.

Then, for the last week, I've been playinhg catch up on legal work, mail and a short short story I wrote for the Zine Tenacious for a Mother's Day-themed issue.

In the midst of the psychological storm, my mother went in for major surgery, my father flew out for a visit from Seattle, and my sister had admitted (to herself, the rest of us already knew) she is an alcoholic and wants to mend broken relationships and stop being as self-centered. She attended three AA meetings and went back into seclusion.

The visit with my father was amazing. The Superintentdent granted us an extended visit so we were able to relax without watching the clock, really connect and enjoy our two way communication. Phone calls cut off at 20 minutes and I am limited to 2 phone calls per week. The 20-minute call costs $6.75.

I talked to my mother Saturday and she is at home healing but in major pain. Shethought the percocents weren't working so she stopped taking them and found a new level of pain. So now she is properly medicated and deposited into hr living room recliner, hating her life. She says that her roommate (ex-boyfriend) only does dishes when there are none left in the cabinets, so she's dreaming of the day she can stand and move on her own.

I dream of the day I can again stand at the sink with my mom and hear the clinking of silverware against coffee mugs.

Until then, its plastic sporks and tumblers of cold instant coffee.

Can't wait to hear about Valentine's Day!

Take care,

Sarah