Dear Camilla, Where Are You? -on hold-

Part One: Angelie

Dear Camilla,

         Yes, we have an agreement, though I never thought to tell you, as you never inquired about that matter. To keep true to this agreement, I will be out-of-state once more in the following month for a trip to Maine to see the fall foliage, but I will have protected internet access in the lodge cabin we are to be staying at.

            I see.

            That, “dear, dear”, Camilla, is my “pet phrase” that I start every note with at school. I have custom-made stationary items (given to me as a birthday gift by the all-too-wealthy Grace’s family) that have the exact phrase: “the rest is for your imagination” printed at the bottom of each notepad, sticky note, etc. Actually, the set is complete with pencils, erasers, notebooks, notepads, sticky notes, greeting cards, thank-you cards, and a few folders. Grace’s family is often too warm and elaborate in their gift-giving, though I find it quite touching that someone would give to me one of the things I enjoy. (Yes, I really do enjoy having custom stationary items.)

            (Continuing my long, tedious discussion of my infamous pet phrase…) This phrase was actually a line (Though indirectly, as the first words of each line I had happened to spell “the rest is for you imagination”.) from a play that I once performed in, so I adopted it.

            Thank you for your confidence in my acting skills, though I do not possess as much as you. I think having a friend as Grace, who can act so very well, is much better than getting the praise myself. You see, Grace takes the compliments and stardom easily, but I think it would be too much to bear for me.

            Of course, I wasn’t really missing anything, as Carol’s wedding was much more entertaining. (It was held on a soccer field, as that is Carol’s favorite hobby, and Simon kicked a soccer ball into the wedding cake. The rest is to be chewed to a past and brought down, by peristalsis, to your internal organ: the stomach.)

            Of course you do not spend your days counting freckles narcissistically before your bathroom mirror, debating whether that small mole on your left cheekbone counts as a freckle or not. (I did count it, as it can hardly be considered a mole.) The rest…ah, I lack the patience to explain that.

            The idea of italicizing or underlining a book title seemed to have slipped out of your mind and into the night sky.

            “This commercial against social networking was sponsored by Facebook, Myspace, and Twitter.” (Notice the irony?)

            *Post-Script*: What do you plan on being for Halloween?

-Sent: Friday, October 1, 2010, 4:26 AM-