by Gaby Dunn
You would think my father was the CEO of AA. He talks like he is a sobriety expert when he hasn’t even been sober long enough to get an important chip. He wants me to go to Al-Anon. Presumably so more people can be talking about him at all times.
Maybe this call will hit my quota for the month and they won’t care that I’m not coming home for Thanksgiving. Maybe by then he will be too drunk to realize it’s Thanksgiving. (The holiday season is a real trigger.)
Just because he is suddenly ready to be a dad doesn’t mean I suddenly need a dad. I’ve been doing fine without one.
Poor Hope. I wish she didn’t have such a stupid name.
8:07 PM PST
You’re not coming home for Thanksgiving???
No way. Flights are $$$.
Please hold.
8:13 PM PST
My parents said they would cover it as an early Hanukkah gift.
AVA! That’s not OK!
Why?? They want to see you too!
Who is it even a present for? Me or you?
Both??
I can’t accept that.
Why? It’s really not a big deal.
It’s not just the money. I don’t want to come home.
Wow. OK. Sorry. I thought we were BEST FRIENDS.
I want to see YOU obviously. I DON’T want to see my family.
Plus I’ll be home like 3 weeks later for winter break.
I feel devastated. I had started a Gen countdown.
haha. 4 real?
Maybe.
I’m very lonely.
CAN YOU DIG IT?
* * *
Gen Goldman
to Ava
Alex is officially the most successful person I know (other than your dad). After his blog went viral on DigBoston, they asked him to come in for a meet-and-greet, and he charmed them so much he got offered an internship! It’s going to start immediately even though they’re already in the middle of an intern cycle. (Apparently the kids they have now aren’t top-notch. Fucking Harvard.)
I talked to Kent about resigning. He freaked out and begged me not to. He basically offered me the staff position and promised that all future interim advisers would be more formally vetted. This whole controversy has really shaken him. I feel bad. He’s just this straight cis guy trying to be a woke bae in a school full of queer kids. He’s gotten some brutal @ replies since Alex’s blog.
I told him I would think about it overnight. I really don’t want to quit. Maybe I should just go straight to the source and ask Charlotte to step down. It’s worth the risk, right?
I’ve already made plans to see her. You can’t stop me.
THAT WENT WELL
* * *
Gen Goldman
to Ava
Psyche! I’ve taken it from your lack of response that you didn’t think much would come from my meeting with Charlotte. You were wrong. A lot came from it. Like yelling. And screaming. And my decision to officially quit the Beacon.
I wanted to just talk to her briefly in her office, but she insisted I come to her apartment because she had too many organic apples and wanted me to eat some of her homemade sauce? Anyway, it was delicious.
We started talking about class and Halloween. I mentioned that I was seeing Alex, romantically, to test the waters. Charlotte scoffed and said, “You’ve got a real type, huh?” Didn’t know what that meant so she clarified by name checking Molly. I don’t know how you could compare the two other than through their shared hatred of Charlotte.
I tried to explain the situation at the Beacon and ask if she really cared about being interim adviser since she’s going to be replaced by a more experienced journalist anyway. This came out far more bitchy than I intended and lit a fire in those dark eyes of hers. (Did I mention we’d been drinking a fair amount of wine to wash down the applesauce?)
Before I knew what was happening, we were both screaming and Charlotte accused me of being in love with her??? I accused her of not having the capacity to love. This had nothing to do with the topic at hand, but that didn’t stop us from arguing about it for a good hour. I accused her of causing Molly’s breakdown, and she accused me of being an enabler! WHAT ARE YOU, MY DRUNK DAD?
I know this is extra terrible, but it felt great to really yell at someone. I don’t miss much from home, but, oh, man, is screaming cathartic.
I left about an hour later having failed in my mission. I no longer have any other choice. I have to quit the Beacon. Maybe Alex will put in a good word for me at Dig. That’s the point of sleeping with successful people, right?
Re: THAT WENT WELL
* * *
Ava Helmer
to Gen
Part of me knows that I shouldn’t even bother writing this, but I couldn’t help myself. (You don’t have to read it. Writing long emails is my version of cathartic screaming.)
I don’t understand why you are doing this. If the faculty adviser was a known pedophile, I would get it. Or a blatant racist. But the interim adviser has written a few articles that could be interpreted as transphobic?? Come on! It’s like you’re looking for a fight! Or a cause! (That has nothing to do with you.) Alex sounds great and all, but do you really think you’ll even be together by next semester?
Also, do you want to be with someone who makes such outlandish demands? If some guy told me I had to quit making films in order to be with him, you would lose your mind. You are a journalist, and he is asking you to stop journaling. (I KNOW THAT’S NOT WHAT IT’S CALLED, BUT IT SOUNDED BETTER.)
Does he even want to be with you? I feel like every two days he pushes you away. This is not a judgment on you—this is a judgment on him. He honestly sounds too self-involved to be in an actual relationship. This is Alex’s fight and he has already made his point. You won’t be as lucky as him. No one is going to offer you an internship for quitting.
Please know I am only saying this because I love you and I have seen you work so hard this semester. (Not in classes.) I’m just asking you to think this through a little bit more. Think about the long-term repercussions. Will Charlotte even matter once you’re managing editor senior year?
I love you. Don’t hate me.
A
Re: THAT WENT WELL
* * *
Gen Goldman
to Ava
I probably shouldn’t have read that email.
For starters, this isn’t about Alex. This is about ethics and what type of journalist I want to be. Am I a gun for hire, or someone with morals and standards? Do I want to get caught in something easy and comfortable and never grow? Quitting the Beacon means I will HAVE to find an off-campus internship next semester instead of resting on my college-level laurels. It’s way more impressive long term to have worked at a professional publication.
Also, although I’m not trans, this is not not my cause. And why is a racist worse than someone who is transphobic? I know you didn’t mean to, but suggesting there is a difference is highly offensive and ignorant. I know you don’t have any personal experience outside of your rich USC bubble, but we are all in this together. (And by we I mean POC and LGBTQ.) I get that you are 18 and dealing with guys who are too short for you, but please don’t assume to understand anything about my life or my struggle.
This doesn’t have to be a huge thing. I just wanted to vocalize my honest reaction to your honest reaction. There is nothing more to say. So let’s stop talking about it.
7:21 AM PST
Seriously??? We can’t ever talk about it anymore?
If I disagree with you about something I’m not allowed to say so?
Not about this stuff. No.
Fine. Looking forward to small talk about the weather.
It’s getting cold here.
Good.
MY THERAPIST SAYS
&nb
sp; * * *
Ava Helmer
to Gen
I need to apologize. I’m sorry that I gave you unwanted advice and interfered in your life. I’m not here to tell you what to do. I’m here to listen and support you. I’m so used to everyone (mostly professionals) telling me what to do that my instinct is to mimic that behavior. (Some might call it a cycle of abuse.) I’m really sorry and I hope I would have had the realization to apologize on my own.
You are completely correct that I don’t fully understand your new life. I haven’t been exposed to it, and the fact that you are out there existing in a different world upsets me. You have always been the biggest part of my world and I want to remain an important part of yours. So I asked my parents to book me a flight to Boston over Thanksgiving. I want to see you and I want to “get it.”
I hope you don’t find this declaration of everlasting platonic love off-putting. I understand that in a different situation (maybe even in this situation), buying a ticket to surprise someone across the country might appear stalkerish. If you don’t want me to come, I’ll cancel, but it felt more romantic to have already purchased it before I sent this email.
If you say it’s OK, maybe we can stay at a hotel for a staycation? (My parents have a lot of Starwood points.)
“I’m much more me when I’m with you.”—Pinterest/Ava Helmer
Re: MY THERAPIST SAYS
* * *
Gen Goldman
to Ava
God damn it, Ava. You make it so fucking hard to stay mad at you. Can’t you be stubborn and immature like the rest of us???
I can’t believe you’re coming here! How nonsexually romantic! I can’t wait to show you all of Boston! You’re going to hate it!
I’m sad most people will be gone for the holiday, but it will still be a great time! We can watch Pay-Per-View in the hotel room and go on a Duck Tour! (I haven’t been on a Duck Tour because I’m not a loser, but it seems pretty amazing!) I can’t wait to do all the stupid tourist shit no one else will do with me! And then I can just blame it all on you, like, “My friend Ava is a total square!” (THE BOAT GOES QUACK! I CAN’T FUCKING WAIT!)
Thank you for being the bigger person, as always. We will have you to thank when both of our coffins are lowered into the ground at the exact same time in 2083.
LOVE AND MUSH AND SAP,
G
2:53 PM PST
I need to buy a winter jacket!
It’s gonna be 3 days!
Borrow something of mine.
Do you even have a winter jacket??
Close enough.
Is it clean?
Close enough.
I think I’ll just buy my own.
Seems dumb.
HOMELAND SEASON ONE FINALE
* * *
Ava Helmer
to Gen
What are your thoughts on electroshock therapy and do you think I could somehow get a student discount?
Met my new physiatrist today. He has a long beard and hollow eyes. Are you allowed to self-prescribe as a doctor, because this man was too eerily calm to not be high out of his chemically balanced mind. I thought he would want the whole spiel but he said he’d already talked to Dr. Baker about my history. He asked a few questions about past medications and decided I have to try something other than an SSRI. Ever heard of clomipramine? Me neither! But I have sleepiness, drop in blood pressure when rising from a seated position, difficulty starting urination, and dry mouth to look forward to!
So now I need to come off my current meds and transition to this? I feel like my dad with his 14-compartment pill case.
What if clomipramine doesn’t work and I’m left with my actual brain?? I can’t have another repeat of my 6th-grade ski trip where I threatened to kill my mom. (God, I feel bad for my parents.)
It’s so annoying to be a drug addict without any of the fun.
And no, I’m not going to let you try it when I’m out there.
Re: HOMELAND SEASON ONE FINALE
* * *
Gen Goldman
to Ava
I never watched Homeland, so I actually can’t relate to this email at all.
Have you read The Bell Jar, though? The shock therapy there didn’t seem to work.
I’m sorry you have to go through this again. Maybe fifth(?) time will be a charm? Tell me more about this bearded shrink with the hollow eyes … Do you think he’s married? Because I have a real daddy complex I’d love to talk to him about.
9:32 PM PST
Thanks for putting the image of you hooking up with my psychiatrist in my head.
No problem!
Will do anything for a prescription pad.
I remain worried about you.
And you’re the one with all the shrinks! #irony
SHANNON PUTS BUTTER ON HER LEGS
* * *
Gen Goldman
to Ava
Yep, it’s official. My roommate has been stealing packets of Land O’ Lakes Salted Whipped Butter and slathering her arms and legs before going to sleep at night. I have resisted telling her that you’re supposed to use SHEA or COCOA butter when moisturizing your skin. It’s too fucking great to watch. She thinks she’s really conning the system by not having to pay for another beauty product. Even if you can use actual butter on your skin, I doubt this stuff even counts as “real.”
The whole room smells like pancakes.
If you can’t tell, I’m a bit bored since quitting the Beacon. Kent, my former editor, took my resignation surprisingly well in that he didn’t cry. He said, “I feel like crying,” a few times, but his face was stoic so it didn’t seem true. He told me I’m welcome back whenever. Not to be on staff, but as a writer, which seems like a waste of time. No one is going to care that I published a few articles for a college paper. I need titles and upward mobility.
Alex started his internship at Dig and says everyone is even more political than at the Beacon. You have to kiss this person’s ass to get to even talk to that person. And everyone has incredibly hip haircuts. I want to visit him, but he said no. He is so formal and proper it’s hilarious.
There’s no real chance of me getting an internship before next semester so I’m thinking of starting a Tumblr. Here are my pitches for names so far:
GEN X (obvious choice)
WHAT’S IN THE WATER? (a conspiracy blog about the Charles River)
QUEER AS FRACK (an exploration of gay youth and popular sci-fi)
You’re the only person voting, so choose wisely.
10:32 AM PST
Queer as Frack.
YES! Obviously!
Will each post be about gayness AND sci-fi, or will you alternate?
There are no rules on my blog.
OK, but you will need some rules or else it will seem like chaos.
Each post will be in a completely different font.
I support you, but I won’t be able to read it.
What are you doing?
Writing.
Trying to write.
Thinking about quitting writing.
Have you left your dorm room recently?
Yes. I have class four days a week.
Call a friend.
I’m texting a friend.
Is Alex your boyfriend yet?
Hahaha
No.
Why not?
Because we haven’t talked about it.
Why not?
CALL SOMEONE ELSE.
BIG MISTAKE
* * *
Ava Helmer
to Gen
I want you to know before you read this that I blame you. I was perfectly happy and fine sitting in my room. Maybe I wasn’t
happy, but I was fine. And then you had to make me feel like a big-time loser. So I called Sophia. That’s right. I called her, which was startling to both of us. After presenting as a desperate freak, she took pity on me and invited me to her dorm where some friends were hanging out playing Mario Kart.
When I got there, I was a bit surprised to see some of the other screenwriters. I thought it would just be the kids on her floor, but because it was our shared friends it felt weird that I wasn’t invited in the first place. I tried to get over the sting of COMPLETE REJECTION, but I also don’t know how to play Mario Kart so the night wasn’t going well. At some point, Sophia asked me to hand her her phone, and just as I did a text from Jake popped up. What? Why was my ex-boyfriend texting my friend? I couldn’t see what the message said because of her settings. I tried to play it cool and instead blurted, “WHY IS JAKE TEXTING YOU?” Sophia got uncomfortable and shrugged. “He wants to work on more stuff together.” “I THOUGHT YOU HATED JAKE.” “I don’t hate him. I just didn’t want to kiss him in your parents’ house.” “WELL, DO YOU WANT TO KISS HIM NOW?!” Please keep in mind that there were like five other people in the room at this point pretending to play Mario Kart. “I don’t want to talk about this right now.” “THAT MEANS THERE IS SOMETHING TO TALK ABOUT! OH, BOY!” I don’t know why I said “oh, boy.” Never said it before. Going to try to never say it again.
“Please stop yelling at me in my room.” So now I’m the crazy one? And not this manipulator who is sleeping with my boyfriend? I got up and walked out, expecting her to follow me so we could talk in the hall, but she didn’t come. I texted her, “Can we talk in the hall?” She wrote back, “It’s my turn to play.” I cried on the walk home.
In case you were keeping track, I am now officially down to one real friend, Emma, who is basically too busy to actually be friends. Seriously reconsidering my parents’ offer to move home and commute. Especially once this clomipramine kicks in and my blood pressure starts dropping whenever I stand up.