The Duchess Lists

Letter to Kiersten, who is away at camp in America

July 19, 2012

My dearest dearest Kiersten,

Look at this amazing and magical font which simulates handwriting with none of the tragic left-handed smudgery which would normally accompany it!!! BEHOLD ITS GLORY. No, seriously. Take a moment here.


I hope you have heeded my suggestion and are currently basking in the glory of this font, which was taken from the interwebs. It is called “Jenna Sue” and I have grown rather fond of it.

In other news, I have officially completed my stupid stupid MA, which can only mean one thing: pure unadulterated scheming time. In reality, I have spent too many days applying for internships in NYC (RYAN I’M COMING FOR YOU IN EVERY SENSE OF THE WORD) and doing crosswords while watching TLC. The point is, that the ambition for diabolics is there. I mean, I have even established a lava lamp in my room, in a futile attempt to restore the glory of the Trifecta to my pathetic little lair. Socks is here too. Lairing it up. Lairing is a legit word, according to my spell check. That’s right. THIS IS REAL NOW. Diabolics is not yet a word, but don’t worry. I shall make it so. Pascal is currently chameleoning around the dictionary headquarters. Pretty sure their password would probably be something like “DefineThisBITCH”. But perhaps they are not that sassy, I cannot really be sure.

I hope that all is well at camp and that you have seen many, many ducks. A summer without ducks is probably a violation of human rights. I may or may not have looked that up. The guess is yours to make, my fair feathered friend.

I have had to make the font 22 so that you can read my pretend handwriting, and thus this correspondence has become two pages. I feel like the more pages it has, the more legitimate it is. Perhaps this is because I am on page 400 of a 702 page Mordecai Richler biography and he wrote to his friends a lot about pretty much everything. He wrote a number of pretty filthy books too, for such a grandfatherly looking man, let me just say. I’m going to throw in some gratuitous dirty words here in his honour. Penis. Squishmitten. Bikini wax. Boob.

Moving right along, I bought a pair of Batman Converse recently, and they’re probably the coolest thing that I own. Aside from a cape which I ensure swoops appropriately as I pace. But you knew all this already, having been privy to the developmental stage of my time as a super villain. I’m wondering if there is a word which is less intense to describe what it is that I do, as I’m sure I am more dastardly than villainous. Also, I don’t commit crimes, I just instigate shenanigans and dream of one day owning a duck. Which is NOT illegal. Yet. In Canada. Or Peru. I should probably know what is the lesser version of villainous because my degree is based on words. But apparently I’m not all that great at stringing them together in a convincing way, so there’s that. Thanks Queens.

On that note, I wrap up this initial correspondence, but choose to inform you that I have a folder on my desktop now marked “Letters to Kiersten” which implies that there will be more to come. If anyone ever reads these, I will likely be institutionalized. Which might in fact be WORSE than my current state of mild insanity. “I paid the cab driver in BUTTONS.”

Anyways! I miss you lots, hope everything is fabulous and can’t wait to see you soon!