Tuesday, September 30, 2008


FROM: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
DATE: February 13, 1998
TO: Birthababe@nurserynews.com, BusyBee@BayTee.org, Cafemocha@coffeehouse.com, Cappuccino@coffeehouse.com, Kidsrus@Indyfarm.org, Mamadearest@abc.com, MotherMayI@whynot.com, Suzysunflower@kansasgarden.com
SUBJECT: Multi-tasking

I’m not sure if this is an amends-ment to the constitution I wrote you yesterday, or a pre-ramble to the one I’ll write next week, but here I am again.

As I sit here typing, I am being simultaneously affected my many stimuli. I am listening to a song I recorded on my keyboard. My Daughter is playing Mozart on the piano in the living room, and the blind dog is snoring. It reminds me of the time we lived in Ohio. My Husband walked in at suppertime, and found the house in a roar -- literally. My Son was upstairs playing his guitar. My Daughter had left the radio blaring in her room when she went to the living room to practice songs on the piano and flute. The computer was left on in my office because I was writing a song while duplicating a tape from the keyboard. I was listening to a teaching tape in the kitchen where something was burning for dinner. Every time I went to check on the tape dubbing, I would start singing the song coming from the keyboard. When I went to check on dinner, I’d start singing the theme from Lion King that My Daughter was playing. The TV was on in the den, and I didn’t know My Husband was in the house until I walked right into him on my way back to the living room to remind My Daughter to watch for B flats. He was mouthing something to me, but I motioned for him to hold on while I answered the phone. Does anyone else live this way? I’m not sure if we’re healthy or if we have adapted to organized chaos.

My son and I worked on a term paper for seven hours Sunday afternoon. He must pass senior English in order to graduate high school. I thought I would simply be typing from his notes, but somehow he had forgotten to take any. He also forgot to read the book that he was to report on. Minor details. I sat down and composed seven pages of B.S. (brilliant stuff) on a book neither of us had read. We only had five sheets of printer paper in the house, it’s Sunday night, and the report is due tomorrow -- no panic.

I think I’ve strained my brain. Why do kids wait until the last minute and expect someone to bail him or her out? Because, they can! My Daughter is the worst about this, but she’s also the luckiest person I’ve ever known and she glides graciously from one self-instigated crisis to the next. She can make things appear and disappear better than Houdini. I’ve seen her lose and find the same item three times in one week, always in the nick of time. For instance: the first time we went to the mall this week, she didn’t have enough money to get the designer shoes she wanted. I thought, “Now she’ll have to clean her room and do her chores so she can earn money to buy the shoes.” She started cleaning her room by gathering her laundry. She found the $32 in the pocket of her jeans. When the mail came later that day, her grandmother had sent $20 for Valentine’s Day, so we went back to the mall to buy the shoes. She only needed $57 total. She begged me for $5, but I held firm hoping to get her room cleaned this month. She opened a coupon book I had in my car and out pops a coupon for 10% of any purchase at Shoe Carnival. Not being a complete ogre, I took her to Shoe Carnival and wouldn’t you know it, the shoes she wanted were on sale, in her size. With the 10% coupon, she actually came out with money in her pocket; money that she will probably lose tonight and find next week when she wants to buy new jeans.

I hear the ice cream truck. Gotta go for now!


Saturday, September 27, 2008

Chip & Dale

FROM: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
DATE: January 24, 1998
TO: Birthababe@nurserynews.com, BusyBee@BayTee.org, Cafemocha@coffeehouse.com, Cappuccino@coffeehouse.com, Mamadearest@abc.com, MotherMayI@whynot.com, Suzysunflower@kansasgarden.com
SUBJECT: Chip & Dale

We’ve been hearing noises in the house near the daughter’s room. I’m pretty sure it’s not haunted. What ghost would want to live with us? I sent my husband to the attic to investigate. It seems that we have inadvertently rented the room upstairs to two squirrels. They were peering through the small opening of space above the support beams. We couldn’t very well shoot the varmints without blowing a hole in the roof.

We have a live trap that was totally useless when we tried to catch gophers, but I thought it might have more appeal to squirrels. My husband was convinced that we should put the trap on the back porch.

"But the monsters are in the attic, I argued!"

Go figure. Two weeks went by, the apple rotted, and still no trophy. Yesterday my teenage daughter spoke to me for the first time in weeks. Her words were, “Come get this thing out of the attic, it’s driving me crazy.”

I replaced the apple with a pear and put the trap in the attic. The next morning I awoke to a knock on my bedroom door and more kind words from the teenager, “We caught it. Now come GET it so I can sleep!”

We have one of the critters in custody. I suppose my husband can take him to the dump, and let him out there when he takes the trash.

FROM: Mamadearest@abc.com
DATE: January 25, 1998
TO: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
SUBJECT: RE: Chip & Dale

I told you when I was there last time that you needed to close up that hole in the gable of the house.

Friday, September 26, 2008

Pillows That Throw People

DATE: January 10, 1998 11:52
FROM: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
TO: Cappuccino@coffeehouse.com
SUBJECT: Pillows That Throw People

Remember the sales magazine you and I looked at together last week? They gave instructions on how to tell if your bed pillow was 'broken' or not. We were both surprised to find out that if you fold the pillow in half and put a shoe on it, the pillow is good if it throws the shoe off but if the shoe stays in place, the pillow is broken. I got home and gave mine the test. They were broken all right so I went to the store and bought new pillows that I thought would do. I mean, how do you know if it's the right pillow except to sleep with it? Well, Pa and I settled down for our long winter's nap last night to give these new babies a test drive. My new pillow and I got into a fight about midnight and I threw it out of the bed. About 3 a.m. I woke up with my neck hurting. I had to get up and take Advil. I think the pillow threw ME! I had crazy dreams all night. I dreamed I fell off a boat dock: Cappi, it really shouldn't be this hard to get a good night's rest. At least it's Saturday and we don't have to get up early to go to work!

After the pillow fights, I finally settled back down happy to sleep on my broken pillows but about 8:30 a.m. the doorbell rang. I couldn't imagine who would be at my door before I had my coffee on Saturday morning. I was afraid it might be Ed McMahon with my sweepstakes winnings and I'd be on T.V. wearing my old nightgown and having groaties in the corners of my eyes. I'm sure I looked kind of beat up after all we had been through since midnight. Fortunately it was only Donna coming to pick up her daughter who had spent the night with my daughter.

I guess I'll go and take a nap now and try to recover from sleeping! I'll write again soon.


FROM: Cappucino@coffeehouse.com
DATE: January 20, 1998
TO: Expressy@coffeehouse.com
SUBJECT: RE: Pillows That Throw People

Spressy, the only thing broken in my bed is my marriage! Jim and I fight every night.

Thursday, September 25, 2008

Woman with Reptiles in Basement and Teenagers in the House

Email Episodes goes behind the scenes to expose a loony, codependent mom named Expressy as she struggles to raise her wacky teenagers. As she opens her home and heart to a homeless human, a multitude of reptiles and other animals she begins to face mid-life crisis and realizes that she has lived her whole life trying to please others at the expense of her own happiness.

Expressy records her daily dilemmas in emails to a group of friends and family members who probably didn’t care to know what she was up to. Through her writing Expressy finds the courage to step out of her dysfunction and begin to truly love herself. You’ll laugh at her hilarious antics and be inspired by her bravery. A must-read (if you can get a copy) for anyone who wants to drop the fa├žade and simply be human.

Email Episodes A Hilariously Honest Look at Life

Take a frustrated woman, give her a computer, and she will tell the world more than they ever wanted to know.

This is the simple, straightforward, storytelling concept developed by Yvonne Perry for her debut novel, Email Episodes. She documents everyday events that take place in the life of Expressy, a wife and mother whose life is falling apart.

What else can you do besides laugh or get a tattoo when: your kids are teenagers, your husband wants a divorce, you're having a mid-life crisis, you're grieving from relocating three times in less than five years, you're dealing with repressed issues from your childhood, and the church turns its back on you? Expressy walks out of her chaos and leaves the limitations imposed upon her to find a life that is full of love, joy, fun, and hope. You will laugh at her hilarious antics while being inspired by her courage. Take Expressy's hand and begin the comical journey toward wholeness.