Dear Everyone,
I apologize for not writing. Life tends to get away from me, and when I catch up I realize that the whole time I thought that life was scheduled to start next week. And the whole time all I've been doing is reading books and watching movies, but I can't think what else I should have done.
Well, written letters, I guess.
Pete sent me the final script for Transmit last night, for editing and notes. It's a peculiar thing to have in front of me the end product of something I've watched grow for years. It's also strange to see people that I know so well as parts in this movie, and to look at where the script was three years ago and be able to point out my own ideas. I'm not sure if it's any good, but it has gone in directions I hadn't anticipated. I can tell that he's grown in ways that he wouldn't have here, and so I'm glad some good has come out of the way things went. I'm proud of them. And though I don't miss 99% of that situation, I do look back most fondly on the fevered creativity, on the days and nights full of talking and writing and planning. I miss being part of making something, of editing The Last Poem and celebrating when Jonas sold it, of filming Backwards until 5 am, of making soundtracks and correcting factual errors. Making things by myself just isn't as much fun.
I had trouble sleeping last night, tossing and turning until I would have paid someone to call and be friendly. When I did finally go to sleep, the little man with yellow fingertips and thumbs was there waiting for me, perched on his picnic table in the right rear corner of my brain. I haven't seen him in weeks--maybe even months. He said the usual things and I answered in the usual huffy way. He's annoying. I hate him, and I wonder if it's not a bad thing to have so much anger at a creature who must be of my own making.
Ellie the puppy came for a visit today, carrying a squeaky iguana almost exactly the height of her own legs. She would shake it, trying to break its little rubber neck, and it would get tangled in her front legs and she would stagger sideways like a drunk.
In case you missed the news, Sarah and Jesse are married now. I've only had quick notes so far from the land of marriage, and I'm waiting impatiently for news, like dispatches from the front line. I want to know what it feels like from the inside, what it looks like. I believe that all of my friends should get married so I can take notes from all of them. Really--the more information, the better. But all I've heard so far is that she cried a lot, which I knew, and that she likes sex. The last is a relief, and I'm so glad, but it isn't particularly helpful or enlightening.
Tomorrow I plan to change my license to Washington State, the final step in becoming a townie. The last time I did this was on my 16th birthday, and I just gave them a little slip saying that I had passed the driver's ed class I only rarely went to. So I'm a little nervous, but it will be nice to not have the funny looks my Florida license gets.
Things are moving rapidly out here and at the same time going so slow. I no longer have any idea what I'm doing or where I'm going and all of my ambitions seem to be on vacation. I feel drugged and unable to find my voice--I seem to speak too quietly now for anyone to hear. But things are not all bad. I am growing flowers now, and I can still see the Space Needle from my house. I love Seattle and haven't yet regretted this move. I still slowly make friends. I am trying to get better.
I had intended to write other letters today, but this has run on too long and will be the only one. I look forward to hearing from you soon. Give my love to your family, and also to every other person you meet.
Love,
me
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