We were in Buffalo for two whole weeks, a nostalgia-laden trip sprinkled with just enough of the new: a photo shoot with the awesome Katie Ambrose, dinner at some excellent restaurants, and various wintry evenings around the fire. I discovered Settlers of Catan. I finished a book by Camus. I didn’t write a lick.
I also rummaged. Through my old boxes and dresser drawers, wherein I found some old love letters, high school essays, and the occasional hate note.
Hate note?
Indeed. I went through a brief hate note phase back in junior high–blame it on hormones and self-exploration of one’s outrage–and thankfully I still have copies of those notes. Including this one:
A transcript of the outrage, for the curious:
Sean,
When you and me [sic] first met, I thought we would stay friends for a long time, but I was wrong. You lie! Craig was the one who said Kevin was “Grinch who stole Christmas,” and I agreed. Craig made it up! I’m so mad at you, not at Kevin. I think I should fight you! Not Kevin. You can’t blame any of this on Kevin or me, it’s you! You seem to use “double-crossing” a lot. That’s stupid, its [sic] called betrayal. You switch sides when your’e [sic] mad at someone. First your [sic] on my side, then your [sic] on Kevin’s.
I’m sick of it!
You were never a friend! You used me!
Never call me, never talk to me, I don’t even want to see you!
You pushed our friendship too far, I have a very long wick on my temper, but it has ran out!!!! [sic]
You don’t deserve to see my signed name!
And there we have it.
Katie Ambrose made me laugh. She kept shooting while I laughed. I was embarrassed.
(Said photos are for a Buffalo Magazine profile, due in their February issue.)
A few days ago I laid on my back, on the local high school football field, and stared at the clouds. It was 60 degrees and sunny. A winter without snow seems aborted–my shed isn’t cozy, my writing is a slog, and I long for an excuse to wear long scarves. Yes, yes, the lamentations of the relatively-spoiled. I know. Let me lament anyway.
{ 1 comment }
I love the hate note. Friendships are valuable & I am grateful for ours.
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