edith zimmerman

Last night I dreamed my Facebook gave me an update that I had the plague.

It was right under an update that someone had changed their profile picture. I thought, “I doubt it, because it’s Facebook, which probably doesn’t know,” but it was also pretty upsetting.

It wasn’t actually plague, it was something else, worse than plague, but I don’t feel comfortable naming it on a blog. But I do have to post about it, because I’ve been getting a lot of letters asking me to write more about my dreams, and about things I hate, like bug bites (they’re so itchy) and when things break (ugh, I just bought that!).

Maybe it’s because of my age (I’m turning 11 in June—tick tock!) or because I’m dump, but I can’t stop looking at these drawings.

As an only child, and as the child of someone who often wished she could “get a new, Korean baby,” I spent a lot of time with dolls. We did a lot together: laugh, scream, hum weirdly under our breath when we pretended the other one was talking. For each world I made up for my Barbies, I wrote down their new names on a slip of paper. My desk at home is still covered with envelopes and sticky notes that say “Aylea, Ayleana, Ayla, Kaylea, Kayleanna.”

Anyway, so my mind basically stopped functioning when I came across (looked up) a Barbie coloring book website that has pictures like this on it:

Mnaaaa, mnaaaa, mnaaa. That’s the sound of what’s inside my head—someone trying to get out, or to get in. Help! Help!

Here’s what I look like while I write this blog article:

Scribbly scrabbly, I’m having a great time on my trip!

Here’s me and my friend Marque Jethro!

Where’s the car?!

Here’s me when I’m sad:

…. I’m a mess, where is my rouge!

I am eating Barbie the cereal! It’s made out of pink and purple hearts, with marshmallows shaped like mirrors, purses, and butterflies. On the front of the box, she’s wearing a heart-shaped necklace with what looks like a profile of herself.

I love it. Barbie has Fab Tips on the back, like “Express Yourself” and “Stay Friends Forever”—they are fab. It tastes very fab as well. Everything about it is fab. It’s so faaaa-uuuhb!

Anyway, you’re supposed to cut out the Fab Tips on the back—there’s information on how to Express Yourself and to Wear It Well etc. written on the inside of the box—and Share them with your friends. If you would like me to send you one of the six Fab Tips, email me your home address, and I’ll come by and murder you. No but cerealously, if you want a Fab Tip I will mail you one.

I got an interesting spam yesterday. Do you know what spam is? It’s when someone sends a letter to your email by accident because they have a friend with a similar name.

The title of the spam is “Hope and Trust.” Here’s some of it:

I am 28 Female,Rebecca Clarkson (5′6) from Ohio, United States of America. I lived with my Ex-Boyfriend before I had a problem as a result of his misbehavior.

I’ve been having a problem with my Dad who i live with

but right now due to our differences, i have left the

United States for africa…

 

My first boy friend, Victor Glashow, absconded with my

dad’s money which was kept with me after a completion

of a contract in EAST london,UK. When my boy friend

got absconded with the undisclosed sum of USdollars… my dad has

been harsh and tough against me about this.

 

Then when I perceived all his behaviors towards me and

the bad acts of his newly gotten wife, i decided to

leave ohio … I have some money from the contractors, (5,500,000.00$), so for me to be more safe and secure, I put this money in a box and got it locked up with a security code known to me

only…

I want the box sent to you while i catch up with

you as soon as it is been delivered to you.

 

Every arrangement for the delivery is kinda perfect… and we can meet for a better living. And I hope you are for real about Helping …..

 

Thanks

Rebecca

There was something a little weird about it, so I looked her up on Facebook. I definitely related to Rebecca, because I know what it’s like to not get along with your parents, and also because I’m 5′6″ too. It’s a cool height—not too short, not too tall. And I can wear heels whenever, like to work or to parties when work is over.

Anyway, I looked her up on Facebook, but there aren’t any Rebecca Clarksons, so I wrote her back and said, “Hi Rebecca, I think you accidentally spammed me. But maybe your other friend has two Ns at the end of her name—it’s an alternate way to spell Zimmerman, like the Zimmermann Telegram in WWI. Anyway, good luck! From, Edith.”

There’s been some serious debate over the past several months about whether or not the fake mermaid made out of a monkey and a fish that I saw in a museum and wrote about here was, in fact, a real mermaid that thrived on bread—or if it was something I created, maybe out of a monkey and a fish, to get rich.

Click here for their comments.

Personally, I agree with Samantha:

IF IT ISNT REAL IT DOSNT MATTER BECAUSE IT HAS STILL GIVE ENTERTAINMENT

Huge news: Last Friday I was at the bar with my coworkers and it got pretty crowded. At one point I looked over and there was this guy there, alone, and because there wasn’t any room to sit down he was standing, one foot up on an untapped keg and an elbow on his raised knee, reading a Chuck Klosterman book. He was also jauntily drinking a beer and wearing a newsboy cap. He stood like that for about an hour, just reading his book like everyone in the 1800s used to do everything, one leg up on a barrel. “See here, Lukey.”

I almost double majored in drawing, did you know? You can buy this drawing for $20.