by Mary Adkins
subject:
re: Inquiry
* * *
Over email. He wouldn’t answer my calls.
* * *
from:
[email protected]
to:
[email protected]
date:
Tue, Sep 1 at 1:19 PM
subject:
re: Inquiry
* * *
of course. fucker wanted it in writing. can you do Friday or not
* * *
from:
[email protected]
to:
[email protected]
date:
Tue, Sep 1 at 1:22 PM
subject:
re: Inquiry
* * *
I don’t have $10K right now.
* * *
from:
[email protected]
to:
[email protected]
date:
Tue, Sep 1 at 1:26 PM
subject:
re: Inquiry
* * *
well when you do, you have my number. no more talking to anyone about this. And no talking to your former client at all. Got it?
http://dyingtoblog.com/irismassey
January 10 | 4:24 AM
I’ve been thinking about love lately. When did I first experience it?
It was my second week of public school, and Jade and I were on the bus in the town in Alabama where we’d just moved, the last town we’d ever live in for more than a few months, though of course I didn’t know that at the time. I was six and she was ten. My shoe had come untied, and I was standing in the aisle of the bus tying it. Because I was looking down, I didn’t see that I was blocking the path of a giant fifth-grader named Lance. Everyone was scared of Lance. He terrorized the school bus so viciously from the back that kids scrambled to sit at the front. Sometimes we squeezed three to a row up there, risking reprimand by the driver, just to avoid him.
Lance had just boarded, but I was tying my shoe.
“Move, fatty!” he yelled, and his friends all laughed. My Polly Pocket backpack suddenly felt really stupid, as did everything else about me: my ponytail, the ribbon in it, my shorts with the orange zebras. As I started to cry, crawling into the seat with Jade, she looked up at this bully, who was a full year older than her, and said, “Real brave to pick on a first-grader. You must feel super proud.”
No one had ever stood up to Lance before. No one until Jade. He didn’t know what to say back. He muttered something about me being in his way and walked away.
Over the years, when I hear the term “tough love,” I think of my sister. That’s her. Love in Teflon form.
COMMENTS (1):
DyingToBlogTeam: Here’s a friendly tip from your friends at DyingToBlog! Try posting at the same time every day. When users know when to expect your post, they’re more likely to pay you a visit!
Friday, September 4
* * *
from:
[email protected]
to:
[email protected]
date:
Fri, Sep 4 at 11:49 AM
subject:
no subject
* * *
Are you sure all of this is hers?
* * *
from:
[email protected]
to:
[email protected]
date:
Fri, Sep 4 at 12:16 PM
subject:
re: no subject
* * *
It should be. Why?
* * *
from:
[email protected]
to:
[email protected]
date:
Fri, Sep 4 at 12:17 PM
subject:
re: no subject
* * *
It’s just a lot of entrepreneurial books and stuff. It doesn’t seem like her.
* * *
from:
[email protected]
to:
[email protected]
date:
Fri, Sep 4 at 12:19 PM
subject:
re: no subject
* * *
Because of the bakery.
* * *
from:
[email protected]
to:
[email protected]
date:
Fri, Sep 4 at 12:20 PM
subject:
re: no subject
* * *
Bakery?
* * *
from:
[email protected]
to:
[email protected]
date:
Fri, Sep 4 at 12:28 PM
subject:
re: no subject
* * *
BAKED. Or HYBRID. She went back and forth on the name. When I met her at the incubator at Tufts four years ago it was HYBRID. Back then all the items were going to be hybrids. But the restriction of only selling cross-breed pastries (à la the cronut) eventually felt stifling to her, plus the name is not very appetizing, so BAKED became the leading contender until she realized it was taken.
We came up with a bunch of marketing copy like: What happens to a cream deferred?
I’ll be here all week.
* * *
from:
[email protected]
to:
[email protected]
date:
Fri, Sep 4 at 12:33 PM
subject:
re: no subject
* * *
Cream deferred? I don’t get it.
* * *
from:
[email protected]
to:
[email protected]
date:
Fri, Sep 4 at 12:36 PM
subject:
re: no subject
* * *
Cream, like dream. The Langston Hughes poem?
* * *
from:
[email protected]
to:
[email protected]
date:
Fri, Sep 4 at 12:40 PM
subject:
re: no subject
* * *
Shit. I just realized that joke is just sad under the circumstances.
* * *
from:
[email protected]
to:
[email protected]
date:
Fri, Sep 4 at 12:43 PM
subject:
re: no subject
* * *
What is an incubator?
* * *
from:
[email protected]
to:
[email protected]
date:
Fri, Sep 4 at 12:48 PM
subject:
re: no subject
* * *
Boot camp for entrepreneurs. Four days of lectures and workshops. I was there to restructure my business because I was spread thin and needed to make a conscious decision about my focus. Iris had come up with the idea for her bakery, but once she got there she decided she wasn’t ready. She had just left her retail job—a makeup store or something? Anyway, she needed something to tide her over. And I needed an assistant.
* * *
from:
[email protected]
to:
[email protected]
date:
Fri, Sep 4 at 12:58 PM
subject:
re: no subject
* * *
I see.
Friday, September 4
TherapistAwayNetwork™
Patient Name: Jade Renee Massey
AUTO PROMPT: What is difficult for you to talk about?
Iris was planning to open a bakery and didn’t tell me, her chef sister. I worked five blocks away from her for crying out loud.
I am in the restaurant business.
She hoarded piles of cutouts of cakes and pies sta
pled to recipes stapled to seasonal theme ideas stapled to sketches of storefronts and interior layouts. She and Smith Simonyi met at some “incubator” she never mentioned. They wrote business plans. She told him and not me. Just like she left this online journal for him and not me.
Did she think I’d be overbearing? Take over?
Is it the same reason she didn’t tell me about her blog or the weed?
I suppose I did sort of know about the blog. There was a day last spring. I had been living there for three weeks, ever since she called to ask if I’d stay a night or two in case she needed help getting to the bathroom. She had entered a phase in which she loathed any comment or expression that resembled pity.
“Act normal,” she begged. “Please act normal.”
But what was normal about the two of us living together in her one-bedroom apartment as adults? What was normal about her being so sick she had trouble standing on her own at times? Every so often she’d take out her laptop and type. I assumed she was emailing someone. I wondered if maybe it could be Daniel, her ex.
I asked.
“It’s a blog,” she said. “Dying people write about dying on it,” she said.
“Sounds uplifting,” I said.
She shrugged. “It’s the only place I feel understood now.”
I started to tear up.
“Dammit, Jade,” she yelled, “stop it!” Then she went to her room to take a nap, leaving me crying alone like an asshole, the one who wasn’t dying of cancer.
So I take it back: she did tell me about her blog.
* * *
Dear JADE,
Thank you for your submission to TAN™. We will make sure your provider receives this message.
Did you know “difficulty” is derived from the Latin dis, meaning “reversal,” and facultas, meaning “ability or opportunity.” When we think of a difficulty as a reversal in opportunity, it becomes possible to see it in a new light. Difficulties are about shifting the frame of reference from old abilities to new opportunities. Today, ask: What is my difficulty inviting me to experience?
TAN™ is not to be used in case of emergency. If you are in crisis, call 9-1-1.
Sincerely,
Your friends at TAN
* * *
from:
[email protected]
to:
[email protected]
date:
Fri, Sep 4 at 3:22 PM
subject:
Checking in
* * *
Hiya Smith,
So sorry about this but we got your check and can’t cash it. I got the rates off! I knew they went up but I was thinking they’d gone up $200, to $7,185. Turns out it’s a $400 increase for residents with single rooms, so that’s $7,385. I don’t know if you want to consider moving your mom in with a roommate. I don’t know if she would like that or not, to be honest. On one hand I think the company could be good for her, and on the other she’s kind of an introvert and likes her shows the same every day so sharing the TV with another person might make her pretty unhappy, since that’s the thing she looks forward to. I think it’d be good if you were able to come up with the $200 extra, I guess is what I’m saying.
Let me know. Apparently energy costs went way up because the local energy company changed ownership and we were all underpaying or some hogwash.
Hey, you know what, I’ll go ahead and cash this check and just front the $200 for now and you can pay me back.
Holler when you can make it out for a visit! We’d love to see you.
Wally
* * *
from:
Airbnb
to:
[email protected]
date:
Fri, Sep 4 at 3:40 PM
subject:
BOOKING INQUIRY for “Beautiful One Bedroom with Balcony on Upper West Side” for Sat, Sept 5—Thurs, Sept 10
* * *
Hi,
My name is TRAVEL MAN2,
I am looking for a house to stay in right away starting tomorrow with my girl for five nights and five days after those nights.
We will use very cleanly. Actually we are students. So we don’t have enough budget. Could you make it cheaper????
If this message makes you feel bad, please disregard!
Many thanks!
* * *
from:
[email protected]
to:
[email protected]
date:
Fri, Sep 4 at 4:12 PM
subject:
no go
* * *
S—
Just got a chance to discuss your colleague’s blog with my interns. Brutus was ambivalent. Willow’s assessment is that no way should you attempt to do anything with this. “Plenty of people die with books or poems or drawings lying around in some drawer. It’s sad, but it doesn’t mean we should publish them. The work has got to stand on its own.”
A little jaded for a twenty-year-old, I thought. But given that this thing has a millennial feel, I take her point.
Glad you want to take on Zahara Ferringbottom. She is truly a remarkable person, and you will thank me.
xSheryl
* * *
from:
[email protected]
to:
[email protected]
date:
Fri, Sep 4 at 4:38 PM
subject:
Manuscript of note
* * *
Dear Christian,
I hope you are enjoying the final days of summer.
I am writing to let you know about a manuscript authored by a colleague who passed in May. During the last six months of her life, Iris wrote a blog that I can see working as a Treble self-help title. I am linking to it below.
I look forward to hearing your thoughts!
Let’s get Campari soon,
Smith
http://dyingtoblog.com/irismassey
January 13 | 5:13 AM
A symptom of cancer appears to be insomnia. Unless insomnia is just a symptom of dying. Here’s how I always felt about the chicken vs. egg conundrum: who cares? They come as a pair.
I am sort of dating someone. Richie. He makes coffee sleeves for coffee shops. Everyone loves his coffee sleeves because they have quotes on them, like “The only thing we have to fear is fear itself.” And they’re made out of recycled litter he finds around New York City.
Our first date was New Year’s Eve, right after I got my diagnosis. Smith had set us up. At the end of November, he gave my number to Richie and let me know I might receive a text or call, but it took us another four weeks to get a date on the calendar. We thought it would be funny, and maybe fun, to have our first date on New Year’s Eve. This, of course, was before I’d gotten the news. I gave him an out due to my suddenly having cancer, but he ignored it. We met at the office to watch the fireworks from the window because it’s a great view of the Hudson, and he brought pizza and wine. I wasn’t sure if his nonchalance about my cancer was charming, or just bizarre, but now I find it refreshing not to be coddled.
Even though I’ve only known I’m dying for two weeks, Jade has already taken to policing my intake of all things, as well as monitoring my daily schedule, medical plan, and “questions list” for my doctor, which she keeps telling me needs to “remain living.” I know she means I need to add to it as I think of things, but it sounds like it’s the list we’re trying to keep alive, not me.
Jade is also not happy that I haven’t yet told our mom that I have cancer. I think I’m still hoping I won’t have to. I’ve started chemo. If the cancer goes away, it’ll be a conversation we never have to have. I know it’s wishful. But I’m in the wishful thinking business. This is what I’ve spent four years doing for people—dreaming big, or “DB,” as Smith my boss calls it. I have seen how it can work for others. Now it’s time for it to work on my fucking cancer.
COMMENTS (13):