Dear The New Yorker, How Did You Get Inside My Head This Week?

You know, Shouts & Murmurs, it’s kind of spooky, seeing my stream-of-consciousness splashed across your pages. It’s like you broke into my soul and rifled through the drawers of neuroses and inner panic and fear, and then you made it funny-insane instead of worrisome-insane, which I know is like the entire point of Shouts & Murmurs/comedy in general but it is very hard to do and you did it so well. So I guess what I’m saying is, it’s like you took from those drawers all these ratty t-shirts and weird sweaters that I bought for Ugly Sweater Parties specifically and crochet vests from the ’90s and overabundant amounts of legwarmers, and from these unpromising beginnings you fashioned a designer dress. And I love that dress! But also, I am worried about my other stuff. Did you find my secret collection of Christina Aguilera CDs? I have to go now.

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