Hear Me Out


September 18, 1997


I'm not sure if you've noticed but I stopped writing for the web a couple of moths ago and I think the world's been going to hell in a hand basket ever since.

Not writing every week was a hard decision. Actually, that's a lie, it was easy because it was thrust upon me by my brain. I just stopped thinking of things to write about. I stopped being either enraged or amused by anything. It was a huge slice of apathy just sitting on the plate of my mind, congealing around the edges like bad meringue.

So, as I said, since I stopped writing this world has gotten progressively stinkier. First Andrew Cunanan goes on his little killing spree and takes out a fair share of society. The Mir space motel in the sky gets hit and burns in space as the Russians try to tell us everything is fine. The weather guys are telling everything but locust are due this year because of El Niño. ( As my mother has begun chanting, "It's going to be the Mother Of All Niño's) Then, in the same week Mother Theresa and ex-Princess Diana die. Also, and I only mention this for accuracy's sake, I crushed my left index finger under a concrete block so typing is a real bitch.

I've been getting plenty of mail, most of it on the lines of "Ran across your site, read everything, when are you going to feed the awful entertainment monster that is my brain with another article?"

I usually write back something weak and pitiful like, "I'm not writing anymore. Stop bothering me, get off the computer and read a god-damned book in the sun." Unfortunately, Leslie (my girlfriend) would usually walk in at that point, attracted by my muttering, and stop me from sending that particular response.

At one point, someone we'll call KT (because that's extremely close to her real name) wrote to Leslie to try and garner support and get me back to the keyboard:

"Hey Leslie~~~

This whole situation is TOTALLY wrong!!! Think of all the people who have depended upon Laura to amuse, enlighten, and entertain them. Now, they have nothing.

*Sniff* *sniff sniff* *little tear* (honest!)

Just think of all those NOW-depressed people, having to spend all that money just for their shrinks to tell them that they need to lighten up and laugh!!! It's truly sad--AND it's SO unavoidable!!"

KT went on to say,

"Anyway!! I hope this works. I hope to hear some good news about this soon (and how close she's driving you to the edge over this whole book thing)."

So, in order to save the world anymore heart ache and bloodshed I've decided to come back and write at least twice a month. I'm trying to write a book and this might be a good way to release some stress related to that.

Although I must admit most of the stress is on Leslie. She edited a text book last summer and that makes her the expert on such things in the family, so I ask her advice on all things bookish. This usually leads to an argument because right after she gives me her opinion, I start arguing with her. After a few minutes she's not talking to me and I'm yelling, "Get off your high horse! What do you know about fiction, you big geek?" So it appears that KT was right. The whole thing is getting ugly.

I have a private message for KT and you know who you are. Leslie and I were a bit freaked out by your letters until we realized you must be some sort of government spy. I'm back to writing, so you can train that damn satellite somewhere else now.

KT's letter is just a sample of the kind of pathetic guilt-inducing cajoling I've been getting from people. Oh, and when I go to my one and only, the woman of my dreams, the person who loves me unconditionally, I get nothing if not more guilt and recrimination.

"Babe, they're at it again. I can't take the guilt!!" I sit and hold my head in my hands and moan at the computer screen.

"I know. They miss your humor. I miss it, too." She stands there, looking peeved.

"What the hell do you mean? You've got me." I just can't catch a break.

"True, but you really improve with editing."

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Copyright 1997 by Laura Jiménez.

Updated 09/20/97
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