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And this is all right with you???? Has everyone in this family gone completely mental?
Jason
To: Nadine Wilc.o.c.k Come on. Just one more time. Mel To: Mel Fuller I will not. Nadine To: Nadine Wilc.o.c.k Mel To: Mel Fuller And you are really starting to annoy me. But all right, I'll tell you. But this is the last time, all right? Okay. Here we go. You are right. Max Friedlander is very nice. We were all wrong about him. I apologize. I owe you a Frappacino. Satisfied? Nad To: Nadine Wilc.o.c.k Mel PS Don't you just love the way the skin at the corners of his eyes all crinkles up when he smiles? Like a young Robert Redford? To: Mel Fuller making me sick. Seriously, was I like this when I first started seeing Tony? Because if I was, I fully don't understand why none of you shot me. Because this is nauseating. It really is. You've got to stop. Nadine To: Mel Fuller Yes, I know. I heard everyone talking about it by the water cooler. Apparently, Fresche was quite the place to be the other night. Don't worry--I'm not upset that I wasn't invited. I quite understand why you mightn't have wanted me there. And you needn't worry that I am writing to you now with the intention of trying to win you back. I realize--at last--that you have found someone else. I am just writing to say how glad I am for you. Your happiness is all I have ever wished for. And if you love him, well, then that's all I need to hear. Because for you to love someone, Melissa, I know he would have to be a truly worthy, truly n.o.ble individual. A man who shows you the kind of respect you deserve. A man who won't ever let you down. I just want you to know, Melissa, that I would have done just about anything in the world to have been that man for you. I really mean that. If it hadn't been for Barbara-But now is not the time or place for what-would-have- been's. Just know that I am thinking of you, and am pleased to see you looking so radiant with happiness. You deserve it, more than anyone else I have ever known. Aaron To: Aaron Spender Mel PS I'm sorry to have to bring this up, but I know it was you who took the Xena Warrior Princess action figure off the top of my computer. The new fax guy saw you do it, Aaron. I want her back. I don't want to know what you did with her . I just want her back. OK? M. To: Mel Fuller x.x.xOOO Dolly To: Nadine Wilc.o.c.k I forgot all about that self-portrait of Max Friedlander that is supposedly hanging in the Whitney! The one of him nude!!!!! WHAT DO I DO??????? I mean, I can't go LOOK at it, can I? That is so sleazy! Mel PS Just thinking about it is giving me a headache. To: Mel Fuller Of course you can go look at it. Which is sleazier, you looking at it, or him taking it and letting them hang it up for everyone in the world to see? But whatever. Get your purse and follow me. We'll forego spinning for a bit of culture, courtesy of the Whitney Museum of Modern Art. Nadine PS Your headache is from the Frappacino. They do that to me, too. To: Stacy Trent Also, how do you make those little bread thingies with the tomatoes on top? John To: John Trent I can only a.s.sume you mean bruschetta. You toast baguette rounds, then rub the toasted slices with garlic. Then you cut up a bunch of tomatoes and you-Oh, for G.o.d's sake, John, just call Zabar's and order it, like a normal person. Then you pretend you made it yourself. You think I can cook? Ha! My roast chicken? Kenny Rogers. My crab-stuffed flounder? Jefferson Market. My hand cut fries? Frozen from a bag! Now you know. Don't tell Jason. It will spoil the magic. Stacy To: Dolly Vargas I cannot say I think his parents were particularly responsible, either, giving a five year old a camera and then letting him play with it in the bathtub. He could have been electrocuted, or something. Besides, that photo doesn't even look anything like him. Mel PS I blame YOU for the fact that I am clearly getting a cold. You caused me all that anxiety and made me susceptible to this stupid flu bug that is going around. To: Mel Fuller x.x.xOOO Dolly PS Could you stop coughing so loud? It's aggravating my hangover. To: George Sanchez I am writing this from home to let you know I will not be in today due to the fact that I have woken up with a sore throat, fever, and runny nose. I left the pages on your desk last night, and there's plenty for Ronnie to use for tomorrow. Tell her it's all in the green file folder on my desk. If you have any questions, you know where to find me. Mel PS PLEASE tell Amy Jenkins down in Human Resources that the reason I haven't logged on today is because I'm out sick! She counted my last sick day as a tardy and it went in my permanent personnel file! PPS Can you make sure my Xena Warrior Princess action figure is back on my computer monitor? Somebody took it, but he's supposed to put it back. Just let me know whether or not he has. Thanks-- M. To: Don and Beverly Fuller Don't ask me why not, though. I mean, don't let Daddy read this, but I'm starting to wonder if there's something the matter with me. Besides the fact that I have this cold, I mean. Because John and I only made out this one time, and since then, nothing, nada, zippo. Maybe I'm a really bad kisser. That's probably it. That's probably why every guy I've gone out with from Jer on has ended up dumping me. I'm a lousy kisser. I'm short, I have an impossibly small bladder, I have red hair, and I'm a bad kisser. Let's just face facts: When I was born, Mom, did the doctor ever mention the words genetic mutation? Did he ever mention...oh, I don't know. The term biological sport? Because that's what I think I am. Oh, I know: Robbie turned out all right. I guess he doesn't lack the kissing chromosome I evidently do. Either that or Kelly's just a bad kisser too, and couldn't tell the difference. I don't suppose--AHHHH! Someone's at the door! It's John! And I look horrible! Mom, I gotta go- To: Mel Fuller What on earth was that last email from you all about? You have a little cold, dear. You aren't dying. Your dolls are staying exactly where they are, in their display case in your bedroom, along with your 4-H medals and Duane County High School diploma. And what's this about a boy not thinking you're a good kisser? Well, if that's what he thinks, then you tell him he can just go jump in a lake. I'm sure you are very good kisser. Don't you worry, Melissa, there are lots of fish in the sea. You just throw that one back. Your s.h.i.+p will come in. You are much prettier than all those girls I see on the TV, especially that one who had s.e.x with the president. You can do better than this boy who thinks you are a bad kisser, and that other one, who had s.e.x with Barbara Bellerieve. You know, I hear she has capped teeth! So you just tell that boy to bug off, and then you snuggle up in bed and watch Rosie and The View and drink plenty of fluids and especially chicken noodle soup. You'll be better in no time. And even though I shouldn't tell you this--I wanted it to be a surprise--I am sending you a little something that should cheer you right up. All right, it's a batch of snickerdoodles, your favorite cookies. So you turn that frown upside down, young lady! Love, Mommy To: Nadine Wilc.o.c.k Thank you thank you thank you! John told me that he called and that you told him I was home sick. So you know what he did next? Really, I don't want to make you nauseated, but I'm dying to tell someone, so I've selected you as my victim: He went to the Second Avenue Deli and got me chicken soup! Really! A whole big thing of it! And then he stopped by with the soup, orange juice, a video, and ice cream (plain vanilla, but then, I don't think he knows any better. You're right, you do have to train them sometimes). And even though I must have looked totally awful (I had on my cow print pajamas and fuzzy bunny slippers, and you should have seen my hair, hoo boy) when I asked him if he wanted to stay and watch the movie with me ( Rear Window --I know what you're thinking, Nadine, but I am sure he has absolutely no idea that I have been spying on him. Besides, I have always politely averted my gaze when it came to watching him undress. Well, except that once, but that was just to settle that all-important boxers-or-briefs question), he said yes! So I turned the TV around on its little cart so we could watch it from the couch, but he said I should be in bed (which it was pretty clear I'd abandoned in order to answer the door--I hadn't bothered making it, or anything, and you should see the ocean of wadded up Kleenex all around it) and then he made me get back in it, and turned the TV around again so it faced the bed. Then he went into the kitchen--which made me pretty embarra.s.sed...you should have seen all the dishes in my sink--and when he came back out again he had the soup and this big gla.s.s of juice on that tray I bought that one time at Pier 1, remember? Only I'd only used it to hold my laptop over the bathtub, like the lady on those commercials, that time I got the wicked sunburn at Jones Beach, and George was so mean and made me work from home. Nadine, it was so nice! He lay down on the other side of the bed (not under the covers, though, on top of them) and we watched the movie and I ate my soup and when I was through he broke out the ice cream, and we ate it right out of the container with spoons, and then when the scary part happened, we forgot all about it and it melted some all over my sheets, which are sticky now, but who cares? Then when the movie was over I turned it to the Weather Channel, and there was live