On the one-month anniversary of the birth of Club Manic (Celibacy), Brian and I have decided to draft our respective suicide notes.
Here's mine:
Dear World:
You have given me 25 years of shit. You stingy asshole. Couldn't even give me a lifetime's worth so I'll MAKE it a lifetimes worth.
First off, I just wanted to say thanks for nothing regarding my irregularly-shaped bottomless pit of a belly button. I think there are 12 miners down there who died of starvation back in the late 70s. It was fun to yell down there, "It puts the lotion back in the basket, or it gets the hose again" and listen to the subsequent resonating echo for all of five minutes, but now all I can do is look in the mirror and watch that ugly gaping hole stare back at me. No, not that one. No, not THAT one either. Still talking about the belly button.
Furthermore, thanks for not giving me enough ego stroking during my adolescence. Not only did I have to be fat, did you really have to give me a moustache, too? What am I, Mexican? Fuck you.
Now for personalized curses:
Mom: thanks for not telling me that the back of my skirt was tucked into my underwear that first day of 5th grade when you dropped me off. And thanks for picking out the tightie whities with the little green apples for that day’s outfit. The ensuing teasing did wonders for my self-esteem.
Dad: Thanks for not loving me enough. I have managed to find asshole boyfriend after asshole boyfriend and tried to psychologically/emotionally heal them in a misguided effort to connect with you.
9th Grade Spanish Teacher: You suck. You asked me if I was chewing gum in class and when I said no, you asked if I was chewing crud. Well, yes. But that’s none of your business.
Vijay: Yeah, you’re a boy and I beat you up in the 8th grade. In public. Sorry. I guess I had a crush on you and it was somewhat inappropriately expressed.
Anna: My downstairs neighbor. You got liposuction then went on a cruise and got fat again. That’s awesome.
Dr. Miller: You’re a fucking psychiatrist. And you made me feel bad about myself. Isn’t that ironic? Don’t you think?
Boy George: Fuck you for sharing my birthday.
To all the people I like, who have supported me through all these years, just wanted to let you know that I appreciate all you’ve ever done for me. Rie, we made a pact years ago that if anything ever happened to me, that you would get to my place first and hide my porn. So bring a big box. And you can keep whatever you want. I know you said that you want the boy-on-boy action videos.
Goodbye cruel world, and if I can manage it, I will be sure to come back and haunt those of you who were total dicks.
Love, Julia