Pain Reliever

Name: Aleve

Age: Expiration date optional

Body Type: Curvy

Looking For:

Someone who is mysterious and probably misunderstood.  Substance use is acceptable as long as it’s for healing purposes only.

My Ideal Date:  

Watching old VHS tapes of Tom Waits and comparing it to your band.

Three Things I Can’t Live Without:

1.)The joy of helping others

2.)Water

3.)The back shelf of your pantry

Faith/Spirituality:

I’m at a point in my life where I know what works.  I have faith in myself.

One thing I am exceptionally good at:

Decreasing a tense situation.

Favorite Song:

Complicated by Avril Lavigne

Favorite Quote:

“Be My Headache.”

Send Me Your Stories!

Hi readers,

If you would like a personalized object story that revolves around your life or a message you would like to get out, please e-mail: RebeccaColesLee@gmail.com

Personalized Story Form:

Your name: (Please specify if you would like your name to appear at the top of the story)

Reason for sending this story: (Do you want a secret/metaphoric love letter to someone?  Do you have strong feelings about an experience that you can’t specifically talk about? Are you interested in sharing your personal story with the anonymity of objects?)

Are there any specific details you would like me to include in the story?

If interested, please include these answers in the email.

The Phone

 

 Disconnected

 

1:23 PM Cute Teacher: Hi Peter – I hope this is the right number. I wanted to say again, how nice it was to speak with you at the PTA meeting. I think, however, I’m going to pass on dinner until your daughter is no longer in my class.

 

 

1:23 PM: I understand completely. I hope I wasn’t too forward.

 

 

1:24 PM Cute Teacher: No, not at all. I’m concerned about your daughter though.

 

 

1:25 PM: What’s wrong?

 

 

1:25 PM Cute Teacher: She has been picking at her nails.

 

 

1:26 PM: LOL Most little kids pick at their nails.

 

 

1:26 PM Cute Teacher: No – She picks at them until all her fingers are bloody.

 

 

1:30 PM Cute Teacher: I know you’re going through a tough divorce, does she have anyone to talk to?

 

 

1:32 PM: There’s nothing to talk about.

 

_

 

2:46 PM 1-434-896-3389: Mom! I can’t believe it! I’m about to get on the plane, but I wanted to tell you before it hit Facebook: Jason proposed to me!!!

 

 

2:47 PM 1-434-896-3389: Ooops, I’m sorry! I think I texted the wrong #.

 

 

2:49 PM: You did, but congratulations!

 

 

2:50 PM 1-434-896-3389: Thanks!!!

 

 

2:51 PM: Don’t listen to what they tell you.  I’ve been married to my college sweetheart for 24 years. Best decision I ever made.

 

 

2:51 PM 1-434-896-3389: That’s so sweet!!! How do you guys do it?

 

 

3:04 PM: A lot of  divorced couples will tell you that marriage is just a lot of work. It ‘s always wonderful between my wife and I though. When you love someone that much, you never contemplate splitting up.

 

 

3:05PM 1-434-896-3389: Did you ever fight about the future?

 

 

3:10PM: Never. Love grows with family.

 

 

3:11PM 1-434-896-3389: I know what you mean. Our family will never be broken.

 

 

The Filing Cabinet

 

 

There once was a filing cabinet so full, it barely had room to think. It kept important case files as well as business cards from every service under the sun. It kept rubber-bands and paper clips and stray hair ties and a pen without ink. It kept everything.

“What is that stale piece of clay hanging out of your drawers?” A pad of paper pointed and laughed.

Embarrassed, the filing cabinet looked down. “It’s a piece of chewing gum.”

“What’s a filing cabinet want with a piece of gum?” The paper taunted.

There, at the edge of all papers important, sat the piece of chewing gum, curled up and stuck in the same place it had been for months. Even if it wanted to go somewhere, it couldn’t. Though the gum had the imprints of something deeper than just sugar, it had been in too many sticky situations to feel comfortable. Just like the paper clips, the rubber-bands, and the papers, it had nestled its way into the heart of the filing cabinet.

“Everything has its place,” said the filing cabinet. “Nothing is lost that is saved.”

 

News story:

The Tupperware Party

This story is a play on the popularity of personal essays.  It involves an eating disorder, a suburban party, and lots of plastic.

The Tupperware Party by Rebecca Lee

 

 

The Shutters

“What about that lady?”
“She’s in the PTA, it can’t be her.”
“But look at her makeup. She’s wearing cheap gunky mascara and black eyeliner at the same time.”
“It’s not her, I know her son. He’s on the honor roll.”
“What about that one, across from the Whitticker’s lawn?”
“She’s head of the tennis club. It can’t be her son either.”
“I heard she had an affair with the man on Holloway drive.”
“But her son is too old to throw rocks at our window.”
“What about her?”
“The woman walking down our street?”
“I think she has a tattoo.”
“Where? I can’t see it.”
“Exactly.”
“Does she have a son?”
“Probably.” The shutters shuddered. Their instant reaction banged lightly against the broken window, reminding them constantly of their place in the world.
“I bet her son is the delinquent.”
“Absolutely.”
“I don’t trust people that are so closed off.”

http://www.wsbtv.com/news/news/local/neighbors-taking-woman-court-repeatedly-calling-co/nqcy4/

The Mirror

They look to me for reassurance. They want to know that they are still there. That they exist in the complexity that lies within their body. I portray their imperfections, their hardships, and their persistence at beauty. I show them what they want to see.

When they nod, I nod. If they scrutinize, I scrutinize. When they talk, I talk back, perfecting every movement and judgment that they make.

They stare at me, primping their hair and dotting their eyes with mascara. When they are finished, they smile. I smile. We are a team, but only for a moment. Because when they are done, when they have finished staring, when they have found what they’re looking for, they no longer need me. They close their compact mirrors. They snap their medicine cabinets closed. They turn off the bathroom light.

Who am I without them? A blank mirror has nothing to reflect upon.

http://www.huffingtonpost.com/entry/narcissism-is-good_us_563aa9a2e4b0411d306fa826