Emails from strangers

For as long as I have had email addresses there has always been one (and only one per address) person who keeps sending me personal information due to what I can only assume is mistaken identity. Here are emails from one of the addresses:

For as long as I have had email addresses there has always been one (and only one per address) person who keeps sending me personal information due to what I can only assume is mistaken identity. I can’t find the conversation I had with the guy emailing my cybergate account in Spanish. Here are emails from one of the addresses, the most recent one being the impitus to post this. I guess Storiarium reveals this, but I really am fascinated by this sort of thing.

From: S____ B____
Subject:
To: xxxx
Monday, June 24, 2002 10:40:27 AM

nina,

i apologize it has been what? weeks or months since we corresponded? where does one’s time & energy go? i am working every day for e____ & m____ trying to earn a few bucks for my trip & trying to get the house in order so i can leave it for five weeks. cooking a lot and doing yoga every morning with my friend j_____–getting into a nice groove i almost hate to leave. but i’ve got reams of food suggestions for london, and am looking forward to getting over there and eating & shopping.

i attended my god-daughter’s christening in may in new york and would you believe that the other god-mom [episcopals can have four godparents] was a woman named sue b_____ from state college–what a lovely woman, i loved her instantly and we found we had a mutual passion for you–she said she and her husband know you & sam but have never gotten to really socialize–she said next time i come to town to please call–her daughter elizabeth plays soccer with or against jane. small world, my pal ruth and sam lived in rochester for about three years after they married and sue and her husband were there, she and ruth became fast friends.

we wnet to del for three days with emilie to visit two dying [literally] uncles, otherwise have been nestled into the fold. mike’s recovering from his malaria–he has more sense these days than i’ve ever known him to have–he rests for an hour each day and he’s exercising and eating really good foods. this was a wake up call for him, much needed, talk about someone in danger of running himself into the ground.

last night we watched vanilla sky–i thought some of the scenes were extraordinarily directed–the times square scene, for one, but what a shite film. the more i have thought about it the more it repulses me and it made me have nightmares, like mulholland drive, which was a far superior film and more successful attempt at the whole dream trope. the problem for me is that i can’t really get my mind around the existence of diaz, cruise & cruz–some times i want to like diaz–but i think she is painfully ugly and wonder why the world thinks she’s beautiful. cruz of course is painfully beautiful and a shite actress. tom cruise had never done anything for me one way or the other–i think eyes wide shut and magnolia were good films for him, but this movie was so retarded it never came close to giving him the chance to be an actor, if he is in fact an actor. anyway, what a bad movie.

speaking of bad movies, bourne identity? hello? i hate films like that anyway, but it made no sense. mike didn’t understand it either and that tells you something. i like framka potente, or whatever her name is–what a cute chick–and i also like damon sometimes. the movie had great action scenes, but again, what the hell was it about? oh, well.

i need some summer reading suggestions.

also post haste could you send me a__ c____’s blueberry salsa recipe?

hope you are well.

s

——————-
From: S_______ B___
Subject: Mike’s Mom
To: xxxxxxx
Sunday, May 11, 2003 10:14:27 AM

Hey, for Mike’s closest friends, just to let you know:

The doctor told Mike, Marty and Britt to begin making “end of life” decisions. The COPD is progressive. Jean’s lungs are literally cooked. I guess she just passed a threshold beyond which she can no longer function without the extra 02, and the only thing the 02 is doing is stabilizing the levels of C02 in her blood to reduce the dementia. She’s throwing things, she’s hallucinating, she’s tried pulling out her tubes and “leaving,” and last night she told Mike she was withdrawing his POA because he’s conspiring to kill her. Mike and Marty have found unpaid bills and don’t know where her checkbooks are, etc. We had noticed small signs of the “forgetfulness” etc for the last two years, but now her friends are saying it was getting more and more obvious.

So, the 02 machine she’s on is one step removed from life support–once she goes onto the life support she never comes off. Jean and the boys had agreed all along that that was not an option. They have also told the hospital she’s a “no code”–the doctor said it’s entirely possible that she could go into cardiac arrest, etc, at any time. For the time being, this machine will keep her 02 levels stable. But when it won’t work anymore, the boys have told the doctor to make Jean confortable, and she’ll go into a coma and die. The problelm right now is that no one knows just how long this will take.

Mike said that she is absolutely not coming home to live by herself. Britt has planned for her to come to Dahlonega, where he’s made excellent accomodations for her. She is saying “absolutely not” right now, insisting that she’s leaving the hospital and going home. Mike meets a social worker Monday to find out about moving her up here once she’s released from the hospital, what she’d need in terms of home health care, etc. how to go about starting to plan this, etc.

My poor husband. You know how stoic he is. He won’t get upset until he feels like it’s “okay” to get upset. Although right now he’s really numb–this just suddenly happened and we’re all reeling. The worst part is not knowing. I am so grateful that all three boys are doing their part. Britt is having a very hard time at work but if he is truly needed he’ll go–it’s really not his fault that he can’t away.

Poor Jean. Mike says that she’s being very stubborn [gee, did the apple fall far from the tree? smile]. But it’s hard to know when she’s lucid and when not. Mike ‘s feeling isthat Jean is unwilling to let go right now. He feels that she’s really struggling. But he also feels like she still has some physical strength left, so that she may hold on for a while yet. Plus she has NO PAIN. The doctor said that the COPD will progress to the point where she has no lung capacity and she’ll gasp for air like a fish out of water, til she goes into a coma. The hell in this is not knowing how long that will take.

I thought you’d like to know. If there’s any change I’ll post it.

—————
From: S_______ B___
Subject:
To: xxxxx
Friday, April 16, 2004 12:01:46 PM

nina,

2 films:

kill bill I was very poor. highly stylized with moments of visual appeal, but utterly humorless, uncompelling dialogue, flat characters, and inscrutable postmodern tweaks with violence. i tried not to be a prude, but the scenes involving children witnessing murder made no sense to me. tarantino has made a film that could have been made by a brilliant 14 year old boy–totally immature.

pieces of april–do you love patricia clarkson? this movie made me cry. i think it is the best thing i’ve seen all year. if you haven’t seen it, try it. we can talk about how we related to this family.

mike and i are doing okay. i have to drive to fla tomorrow as one of my best pals is getting married on the beach. saving grace is that it’s a flip-flops or bare feet affair, and i am staying in the giant beach house they’ve rented. i just don’t want to have to do all that driving, esp as i am working a lot and i just got back from a long trip to DE. i wish i could teletransport.

i am learning to belly-dance this week with a former student, from lebanon, who wants me to dance with her on the quad next week for a campus anti-discrimination festival–belly-dancing is liberating and joyous, so i guess it fits the program–it’s the uber-feminist form of sensual expression. ghida has this funny little roll of fat around her middle and she shakes it like a polaroid picture. i am in awe.

we’re expecting you and sam for cocktails tonight aorund 7.

s

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