If this letter from the late 80's could be performed as a scene of a phone conversation with my Jewish mother, my part would probably go something like this:
Hello? Hi Mom. Ok. Ok. Ok. Oh, right. Ok. Cool. Right. Ugg. Nice girl...right. Alright. What? (Click.) Hello? Mom? Hello? (End scene.)
This is my plan. When I get the ticket from you to go to California on Thanksgiving, I'll stay with you for that weekend. Then, I'll stay with Reva for 3 weeks. The lady near Melrose.
Then, I'll fly to NY on December 26th, stay with Bonnie for 2 weeks. Then, move into the woman's residence in NY and live there while I work at that paper on Wall Street. I can't stay here any longer than Thanksgiving!!! I'd rather be dead. This is no place for a nice girl like me!
So, when I call to make my ticket, it will only be 1 way.
From your Lutheran Mom
The Sunburned Country
1 week ago