I'm not going to lie, it was hard in January when you suddenly abandoned me. I know: "It wasn't my fault," you said. "It's the Zipper Theater." And I know in my heart that's true. (And how can I ever be mad at you when you look at me with those blood-shot puppydog eyes?) But, nevertheless, it was tough. I don't think you fully understand the power you have. (And also you still had my black t-shirt, but I felt too awkward trying to contact you to get it back.)
But you're back. I was unpacking my groceries in my apartment, and suddenly two hands were covering my eyes, and a voice said, "Guess who?!" kinda crazy-like, and I couldn't see my groceries any more, but it was okay because I had a feeling it was Someone Good and not a Scary Robber. And I was right. It was you, Things to Ruin. And I was so glad to see you.
You helped me unpack my groceries and together we decided on a new spot to keep the cereal, and then we talked. Just talked and talked for hours and hours.
You are such an incredible show. You move so many people, in all of your many incarnations.
But this incarnation I think will be the best of all. You've had so many adventures and mis-adventures, and trials and tribulations, and you've learned so much through it all.
Stephen Holden of the New York Times loves you so much. But people will love you even more than he does. And I will love you even more than they do.
Welcome back, Thingsy.
Blood and Pheromones,