Sea Change

Dear Dan,

If I could figure out how to insert a song here for you to listen to, it would be Sea Legs by The Shins.  Not because it has anything to do with what's going on in my head right now, but because it's a lovely song that I've fancied for quite some time and the name is fitting.  Anyhoo, let's start with your new nickname.

Dan, from here forth, we shall call you "Mr. Butterpants."  When we're feeling frisky, we'll make it just "Butterpants" or perhaps "Buddahpants."  Not like Buddha.  You see the placement of the H, yes?  When you make cookies, I want you to soften the butter in a new and creative way.  Jenn approves.  Keep it clean.

Anyway, enough of the nonsense.  I'm sorry you're in pain, in a hospital somewhere in Germany.  I'm relieved you won't be in pain much longer and soon we'll be making up stories as to what happened to you. 

Last night I was finishing off the journal I started on my trip to Italy and I got back in a rhythm I haven't had for a very long time.  Sometimes it's all about writing until you think you're going to pass out, you know?  That's how it was.  I wrote and wrote and wrote and still there was room left at the end of this little Moleskine journal and so I sketched a little and it wasn't too bad and still I wrote.  And when I finally came to the last page and wanted to wrap it up so I could get some sleep, I realized I wasn't nearly done yet.  It was the dawning realization of that "there's more?" that gave me my hope back.  I've been dealing with some sort of writer's block for over a year now and what that usually means is that I stop and can't get started again because it seems like I've nothing more to say.  It's not the sort of thing that will go here, certainly, but let's just say that epiphanies were reached, and one of them was this.  I need me a man with some sea legs on 'im.  I've nothing against sailors, but that's not what I mean (for when do I ever mean what it seems I do?).  I need someone who can acclimate quickly.  All anyone need do to understand my everchangingness (not a word) is look at pictures of me over the past fifteen years.  Not a single one looks like the same person.  Fer cuz I'm not, you idjits.

Did I tell you about the time my friend Oliver made me a photo album of myself?  It was the Lil Tomatillo Family Album.  There was one of Jenn slipped in there, too, but that was an accident.  We do not look alike, okay?  So yeah, sea legs.  Bring me a man with sea legs, Dan. 

Love,
Jae