Of course I understand that as a psychoanalyst, I’m someone people may have avoided in the past for that reason. It’s something I never thought about before, but it certainly explains some of my interactions with people over the years!
One more thing. When I told Divya what happened with Susan, she recommended I give her a negative review on “Yelp.” Have either of you girls heard of “Yelp”? I’m not sure if it’s a website or new software I have to get for my computer, but I would love to figure it out so I can do what she suggested and try to heal my trauma that way. If one of you has time tomorrow and can give me a call and walk me through “Yelp,” I’d really appreciate it!
I just charged up my laptop, so I won’t even need to have it plugged in while we talk.
With constellations of love,
Mom
Your Sister, on Your Mom Getting Fucked With
OMG MOMS EMAIL …
I feel so bad for her. Ppl should not be takin advantage of her like that! Like she’s so smart but she can be so innocent sometimes u know?
So do u wanna be the one to teach her how to use Yelp? Sorry but I don’t have 7 hours free tomorrow bahahahaha
Your Mom Wanted to Run Her First Yelp Review by You
Hi Jules,
I got your message about having plans all day today and not being able to teach me “Yelp.com.” I guess Jane has plans all day too.
Luckily, it turns out my condo actually has an in-house website tutor … Loni! She was very happy to help me. Loni is a whiz with computers. We were joking that she should charge people in the building for her services and we came up with some hilarious names she could have for her company. I’ve forgotten what the specific names are now, but many of them made reference to the fact that Loni just dyed her hair a really striking shade of red.
Anyway, after my “lesson,” Loni had to get going to pick up her daughter Carolyn at the airport (Carolyn and her husband don’t land until 7:55, but the traffic between here and Logan has been just horrific lately due to construction in the Ted Williams Tunnel, so we figured it was better for her to be early than late). So she didn’t have time to stay while I wrote the review itself, but I told her I could handle that part on my own. I took several writing classes in fiction, nonfiction, and journalism in college and have always gotten the feedback that my writing is extremely persuasive.
Still, I’m lucky enough to have a professional writer for a daughter! I wondered if you wouldn’t mind taking a quick look at this. I know you said you were busy today, but this should just take a minute. If you’re out, don’t worry about it—you can take a look when you get home. No rush—again, I know how busy you are.
I’ll just sit here with my finger on the “Send” button until I hear from you!
Love,
Mom
(SEE BELOW FOR THE YELP REVIEW)
To: [email protected]
c/o Yelp.com
Dear Susan,
This is Barbara Feller. As you know, I am a former client who also considered you to be a friend. Then I discovered that you engaged me in our friendship under false pretenses and considered all our time together to be “on the clock.” When I first found this out, I thought about hiring a second lawyer to sue you for malpractice, then decided to take the “high road” instead rather than stoop to your level. That is something I have always made an effort to do in my personal relationships, as a psychoanalyst.
My analytic training also makes me confident that whatever caused you to behave so unethically must be very painful for you and rooted in some trauma of your own. I urge you to get professional help so you can work through that pain and not inflict those childhood wounds on any more innocent women.
Technically, you already have been seeing a therapist. If I took a page out of your book, I could bill you for all the hours we spent together during which I listened and gave you advice about your son’s reliance on marijuana, your mother’s obesity, and your conflicting feelings about moving to Newton Highlands. But I feel that charging you would be a conflict of interest. I wish you had felt that way as well.
In the future, if people ask me to recommend a divorce lawyer, I will not recommend you. As you can see, I have given you one star.
Sincerely,
[email protected]
Your Dad Does Not Approve of Your Choice of Birthday Gift
Julie,
As a first order of business, your voice-mail mailbox is full.
I wanted to let you know we received the Solar Robot you sent Stuart for his birthday. Although he appreciated the gesture, Stuart noticed a warning label on the back of the box alerting us to the fact that traces of lead may be found in the product. I contacted Amazon’s Customer Service department and expect they will give me a credit, with which I intend to help my son find a less carcinogenic way to celebrate turning eight.
I don’t think any permanent damage was done to your relationship with your little brother, as I explained to Stuart that you were not purposely trying to kill him. That said, I think a personal note of apology from you would go a long way. I am very proud to report that he is now e-mailing at a fifth-grade level.
Dad
Your Hot Cousin Paul, with Whom You Always Had a Vibe, Heard about Your Autobiographical Novel
Hey Julie—
What’s up? My mom said she had lunch with you the other day while you were visiting an old friend from college who just got diagnosed with breast cancer. Sorry to hear that.
Anyway, my mom also mentioned you’re working on a book about a family, loosely based on ours. How loosely are you thinking? Is everyone from our actual family a character in it? I’m just curious how closely you will be basing it on our real family members and the relationships you have with each of them, and if you’re going to include a lot of details that would make it obvious who everyone is based on.
Just asking because I’m sure that your interpretation of some relationships you have with some of your family members is skewed, and I wouldn’t want you to be in a situation where you’re accusing anyone of anything that might have happened when people were much younger or drunk or whatever. I just don’t think adding anything that could get them in trouble with their spouses and jeopardize the happiness and stability of their new families would end up being worth it.
Anyway, you get what I’m saying.
See you on the Cape for my dad’s seventieth.
Paul
Your Dad, Who Got Married at Twenty-Two, Has Some Wisdom about Navigating the Singles Scene
Dear Julie,
I took Stuart to see Dr. Leung today. She said she’s never seen straighter, or whiter, teeth in a child his age. She also told me that according to your mother, you’ve been having some trouble meeting Mr. Right out there in Los Angeles.
When Mei-Ling and I met, we immediately knew we were meant to be, and neither of us has had any doubts, insecurities, or concerns about our relationship since. Just make sure to hold whomever you meet to that standard.
I hope this helps you move forward.
Love,
Dad
Your Grandma Would Love to Get You Laid
Julie, Your mom sent me the article you wrote for the internet about Prince William. I agree with you that the fox hunting outfit was not his Best Summer Look. Now let me ask you a Q. My Scrabble buddy, Rena, has a grandson who just moved to LA. He’s starting some sort of business there. Anyway, he’s unattached. I saw his picture, and he’s pretty sexy. Rena said he’s very nice, so he might be boring, but you may as well get a free dinner out of it. Can we hook it up? You met Rena. She’s the one who’s always talking about the Holocaust.
The Nice Jewish Guy Your Grandma Is Setting You Up With Is a Little Self-Conscious
Hey Julie,
My name is Isaac Halpern-Miller and I got your e-mail from my grandmother, who is neighbors with your grandmother at North Park Village back in MA. Hopefully she warned you that I might be dropping yo
u a line—if not, I bet you’ve already sent this e-mail to spam, or reported me to Google for hacking, or are calling your bank to cancel all your credit cards because you think I’m a Nigerian scam artist … or all of the above.
But if you’re even still reading this far in—and again, I totally understand if you’re not—let me know if you feel like grabbing a drink sometime. My hours are pretty flexible since I’m self-employed. (I run a startup with two buddies from B-school; more on that if we meet up, if you haven’t already run screaming from this e-mail and then smashed your laptop with a hammer and thrown all the pieces into the LA River…)
IHM
PS—You can be honest if you think this is too weird!
The Nice Jewish Guy You Drunkenly Slept With Had a Great Time Last Night
Hey there,
I just got home from work to find my condo empty, which can only mean one thing: you were abducted by aliens who now have you in custody on the planet Zog, where they erased all your memories and are training you to be a lean, mean killing machine in their army.
No, but seriously, I take it you found your way home. I’m glad I was there to take care of you last night, even if it was all my fault we drank so much. I really shouldn’t have brought up our grandmas and how much it’s going to suck when they die.
But hey, it all worked out, right? Just FYI, I’m not an asshole player or anything—I definitely want to take you out again. I was thinking, one of our investors owns this B&B in wine country. Pick a weekend in May.
Isaac
PS—I just remembered that joke you made about the bartender’s mustache and laughed again.
The Nice Jewish Guy You Casually Slept With Just Wanted to Check In
Hey there Julie!
What’s up? It’s Isaac (from last Friday). Just wanted to drop you a line and make sure you got my e-mail the other day—sometimes the e-mail server at my office is a little glitchy and my e-mails don’t go through. Anyway, if you did get my e-mail and just haven’t had a chance to reply, that’s totally cool! Take your time. But if you didn’t get an e-mail from me, let me know and I will resend ASAP. Or, third option, if you did get it and already replied to me and I’m the one who didn’t get it, then so sorry, but would you mind resending?
This has been happening with a lot of my e-mails. Not just yours.
Talk soon!
I
Sent from a Tiny Robot Monitored by the US Government
The Nice Jewish Guy You Blew Off Would Like to Defend Himself
Julie,
Don’t worry. I’m not writing to ask you for anything. Reading this e-mail will only take five seconds of your precious time. But maybe that’s still too much of a burden for you, since that’s more than you were able to spare from your busy day to do me the courtesy of replying to either of my other e-mails? Or maybe you got a new e-mail address in the last week and just forgot to tell me! Or things “got really crazy” this week and you didn’t have time to write back? You’re gonna have to do a lot better than that, because at this point in my life, I’ve heard everything. Not that you’re even planning on replying to this letter either—why break your pattern?! Whatever. I thought you were different because we had a good time the other night and you seemed pretty smart, but I guess you’re just another girl who’s looking for some guy who drives a Tesla and knows all the right people so you can get ahead in your Hollywood career. You go, girl! It’s all about who you know! Glad to see none of the clichés about women in LA being shallow and status obsessed are true! Oh, wait, they all are!
Not that you even care about my side of this, or anything else that doesn’t directly benefit your life, but just for the record, I thought we should just be friends anyway. If you had bothered to reply to me and let me finish what I was going to say, you would have known that. I invited a bunch of people on that trip to wine country. But don’t worry—I don’t even want that anymore. I really don’t need any more one-sided friendships in my life.
Oh, also, I didn’t mention this before, but my grandma said your grandma’s a bitch.
Bye!
Isaac
Your Grandma Rose Heard What Happened with the Nice Jewish Guy
Julie, I saw Rena today. She told me what happened with you and her grandson. Sounds like you dodged a bullet. If a grown man tells his grandma everything he does in the sack, he has some funny ideas about what it means to be a man. He sounds like a kid named Philipp who was my first kiss back in Seattle. Then he went off to fight in World War Two. He was killed on his first day, just climbing out of the plane.
Your Intrauterine Device Has Some Thoughts on Your Love Life
Hey lady,
What’s up? I hope it’s okay that I’m reaching out to/from you like this. I know you’ve been saying in therapy that you want to improve your communication with those closest to you. At least I think that’s what you said: I can only hear your sessions clearly on the days you wear skirts. (What does Dr. Fleming look like, btw? I just keep picturing Lorraine Bracco.) Anyway, obviously you and I have a pretty intimate relationship since you literally trust me with your life (slash the prevention of new ones, haha) on a daily basis. Or, let’s be honest, not daily—every two months-ish. More since your last birthday. That’s kind of what I wanted to talk to you about.
Sooooo, real talk: maybe it’s just the view from where I’m sitting (#yourlowercervix) but it seems like ever since you turned thirty-two, you’ve lowered your standards for sexual partners. Granted, I only know part of the story since I only see the one part of them, but I think it’s safe to say I know you better than you know yourself. And I like to think I’m pretty observant about the outside world in general, even though I’m internal by nature. My point is I can tell you’re selling yourself short.
Like that guy, Marc, you met on Tinder who said you were his first Tinder date, and then he suddenly took himself off Tinder after your second date, but you didn’t feel like you could ask him about it on your third date because it was too early, but then he disappeared for two weeks anyway and when he finally resurfaced he claimed he’d been in Buenos Aires and forgot his phone charger, or they didn’t have the right converters for American chargers there, or something.
Seriously?
I could not have agreed more with the eight friends you called for advice that you should not get drinks with him again. But you did, and by extension, so did I. And what happened later that night can only be described as a violation of both of our dignities. Not to be all “I told you so,” but I knew neither of us was ever gonna see him again.
Or that bike messenger you met at the Cha Cha Lounge the night before your birthday. I don’t think I caught his name, but I definitely heard him use the word “sarcastical” and discuss with pride how much money he saved the year he lived in a storage unit and took all his showers at the gym. I know you were really drunk that night and thirty-two is a weird age to be turning—I remember you talking to Dr. Fleming about that—but still. You have so much going for you. And you’re probably beautiful—at least, you are on the inside.
And … okay, I wasn’t going to bring this up, but can we talk about what happened with your ex-boyfriend from New York? Granted, I never met Ben when you guys were dating since you just used condoms back then, but he seems like such a nice guy, and obviously he’s still totally in love with you. I know Amy’s wedding weekend was really emotional, and I heard you telling your friends it made you think about Raj, but that’s all the more reason why sleeping with Ben, knowing he was just gonna get super invested in you again, was kind of cruel—to him and to me. ’Cause not to be a martyr here, but it was like his entire life force was trying to put a baby in you. Both times. I was like a goalkeeper at the fucking World Cup for you that night. And then I woke up feeling sad for all three of us.
Anyway, you get the point I’m making here. I really hope this doesn’t seem like an attack. I know I have a reputation for being cold and sterile, and a lot of people have said it really
hurts to let me in. Just ask the multiple hate blogs on the internet about it. (Related: would you mind asking Dr. Fleming for advice on how I can stop going into WebMD/Yahoo Answers click holes when I can’t sleep? Would love her thoughts.) But trust me, this is all coming from a place of love. It’s not about me at all, because let’s be honest: when you meet The One, you won’t need me anymore. They’ll bury me in that hazardous waste bin in the exam room where we first met, next to something slimy, and I’ll never get to meet your baby. But it will all be worth it to me, because that’s the kind of friend I am.
Let me know if you wanna talk further. I’m always here for/in you.
Big heart,
Mirena™
Your Dad’s Friend Who Makes You a Little Uncomfortable Is Happy to Help
Dear Julie,
I’m sorry it’s taken me a couple of hours to respond to your e-mail. I spent the afternoon competing in the final round of a tennis tournament here on Nantucket. It was a fun day of being on my toes—turns out I was the only person who qualified who wasn’t nationally ranked. A lot of sports pros have homes on the island.
Anyway, I’m so glad you reached out. I’d be more than happy to help you figure out what’s happening with the mole on your back and whether it could be cancerous. And don’t worry; I won’t tell your dad you don’t have health insurance. I’m very good at keeping secrets. Also, I was young once (not too long ago) and remember what it’s like not to want to deprive yourself of the basic pleasures of youth in the name of being “responsible.” I remember in medical school, I spent an entire semester crashing on a friend’s couch so I could save my rent money and buy a motorcycle I’d had my eye on.
Nuclear Family Page 9
