A Follow-Up Letter To The Dark Soul That Is My Alternate Self

{Read original "Alternate Self" post before reading this one!}

In the days following the initial shock of You, there were some developments I thought You should be made aware of. First, I wrote a blog entry about you. Second, there was an overwhelming reaction amongst my friends and family regarding the contents of said blog. Apparently harsh self-laceration strikes a chord with people.
Silly me, I thought You and I were over. But no, this is not dead. Not yet.
It is for the concerned friends and family that I write this. This is for the ones who pleadingly said to me, "Emily she has to be unhappy" and "I bet her soul is dark. I bet it's black like OIL." Thanks to every one for caring about my mental health and my tendency to self-deprecate even while thinking I am the Queen of the world. I am tempted to here list the reasons why I am, in fact, winner of the Best Emily S----- contest and, therefore, better. But I'll only give one for now. My mom works with autistic children. Your parent works to destroy the world in the most corrupt and deadly industry ever seen. So, have fun with your blood money.
OK, that was harsh.
Moving on, I am going to get after-school special on your ass. It seems to me that the the real reason so many people responded to the original letter is because every one has their own "alternate self." They don't necessarily have the same name, but it is someone they feel they are in direct competition with. These alternate selves can be like ourselves in so many ways, but they have an unearned leg up on us. Then we get in self-pity about it and grumble things under our breath like: "silver spoon," "kiss ass," and "lucky."
I say, embrace your alternate self. They will challenge you to do better. Or they will force you into debilitating self-pity where your only motivation to get out of bed is to get to your computer, where you write a blog.

Fiction Soon to Come

Am I allowed to do this on a blog? I just don't know, but I'm gonna. I have an ever-growing circle of writers coming into my life as of late and this must be represented. I will post my first short story in a couple of weeks. Hopefully my wordsmith friends will contribute eventually, as well.

(I made up the word Hyperbolize and believe it should officially be a word so I am starting the Revolution. Viva la Revolution!)

NORTH PHILLY CRACKHEAD SQUIRREL

Police Report: Theft on the 2000 block of N. 13th St. September 21, 2008

Lunch cart owner claims theft of one six-pack of Lance brand orange cracker/peanut butter sandwiches. Detectives scour the area for cellophane wrappers, but find nothing. There was one witness to the theft. Witness able to describe suspect in statement.

Witness: Yea, I was just standing in line waiting to order my usual bacon egg and cheese when I see somethin out the corner of my eye. It startled me 'cause they move so quick, ya know? So he scurrying about and I'm watching 'cause I'm waitin,' ya know, and all the sudden he makes for the shelves in front of the lunch truck. He hops in the little basket of peanut butter crackers and gets one of the packs in his little mouth and runs as fast as his legs can go. I'm giggling at this 'cause I'm like, shoot look at that little guy. I'm laughin tellin the guy that this squirrel stole his crackers and he tells me he does it all the time. I couldn't believe it, I was just...yeah, I got a good look at him. He was about a foot long, I guess. He was gray with like a brownish stripe down his back. Real furry. Definitely a thin build. Black, beady eyes. They looked crazy like all glazed over...Naw, he wasn't wearing no shirt. No pants either 'cause he's a squirrel...Nope, nope, no identifying marks. But he did look real nervous, like, he sorta jerk around real fast, like this...

Other notes: Reports in the area have suggested that the suspect has been terrorizing those with Wendy's french fries. It is highly abnormal for a squirrel to be so brazen with fry snatching. Some victims have reported holding the french fry in their hand and a squirrel, matching a similar description to the suspect in this case, has grabbed it away from them. The abnormal behavior surrounding the possibly related crimes may suggest the influence of intoxicants as further evidenced by the witnesses report of a 'glazed look in the eye.'


September 30, 2008 UpdateI: Suspect brought into custody after an altercation is reported on the 2100 block of N. 13th St. The altercation was between the suspect, now identified as James "T-Nuts" Simpson, and Michael James Layden. The fight was caused when Layden attempted to steal away the orange crackers Simpson tossed aside after carefully opening each cracker sandwich and licking the peanut butter inside. After questioning the lunch cart owner, it was reported that peanut butter crackers were stolen earlier that day. Simpson and Layden were treated for minor fight wounds and taken into custody.

October 27, 2008 UpdateII: James "T-Nuts" Simpson was sentenced to 24 years with possible probation after 15 years in SCI Graterford Federal Penitentery for 67 counts of Grand Larceny and 2 counts of Assault.

the alternate self

To the girl who has the same name as me:

I Googled myself (and also yourself, I suppose) yesterday. Pages and pages of results revealed websites with my (and your) name on them. You are the highly educated (Columbia, UPenn, Pace) heiress of an oil fortune worth billions. You are very popular because you have so many friends on Meetup, LinkedIn, Facebook, and MySpace. You are a part of the Young Entrepreneurs of America club. You are rich. And popular. Your pics on Flickr show you have jetsetted around the world. You did semesters abroad.
But did you ever do coke with the crackhead who lived in the alley behind your dorm?
Christ, you probably have. You could afford it at least. I had to stop because it made me want to die and I couldn't afford to buy food. You stopped and brushed it off as youthful experimentation and exuberance.
I am going through phases these past twenty four hours. At first, I was fascinated by you, my alternate self. Then my neck dipped and I hated having your name and not your life. I wanted a new name. If there were a 'best Emily S----' contest, you would win it. There I am up on stage with a crooked sash and a pathetic, outdated bathing suit. There you are in front of me with a gleaming smile, a bikini and a tan that was so perfect they would later make a statue of you and permanently place it on South Beach. Perfect. I picture you always walking around with a tiara on your expensively and stylishly quaffed hair. Franz on Park Avenue does it for you every morning. He wants to be your gay best friend and says about a thousand times every morning how beautiful you are.
Then I get angry. That is the next phase, Emily.
How dare you be better than me! Better looking. Better bank account. Better employed parents. It is an unjust capitalist society we live in. I am just as talented! I am just as beautiful! Dammit, why don't I have what you have!? Bitch!
Then I think about how I should write you and ask for money. Copyright my name. Sue you for infriging on my territory. You will receive the letter and know that it is impossible to sue somebody for name infringement. You know that because you know the ins and outs of intellectual property laws. You are highly educated and know these things. I had to look it up.
The next phase was defeat.
You win, better self.