Where Are You?

Dear Irv,

It's Kwan.  I'm writing because no one knows where you are.  I guess I got pretty full of myself with my campaign.  You and I have being lost in common.  Why is it so hard to trust people?  I had to fire my campaign staff.  All of them!  Even Sonja Ti, my assistant and landlord.  She cried buckets when I fired her.  She said, "How can you do this to me after I transcribed that long tape recording and mailed several letters?"

She's lazy, I think!

Sonja is letting me remain in her apartment with her and her sister, Happy, but let me tell you something, Sonja hates me now.  And Happy isn't.

Why did I fire my staff?  Why did I fire Sonja?  They all said this blog would prevent me from being elected to Congress.  They all said I should delete this blog.  

I refused.  They said I was throwing away my campaign.  They had an INTERVENTION!  Yes.  They all waited for me at the toenail salon, and then one by one they told me how I was on the wrong track.  How I had let my appearance go because of you.  My hair and everything!

If I deleted this blog, how would you and I stay in touch?  When I call your cell phone, I get a disconnected number message.  Your emails bounce back to me.  This blog is all I've got to stay connected to you.

And now you've been silent since Thanksgiving.  It's raining outside tonight.  This isn't my home town.  This isn't my home country.  

I guess I feel vulnerable because I don't know who I can trust anymore.  Sonja stopped talking to me.  Happy is crying.

They think I should focus on the needs of the voters, not on some esoteric treatise on psychopathic behavior.

Oh yeah, and that they are worried that I will be implicated in the stabbing...that I may even have done the stabbing and you were covering for me.  Such crap!  

There is a witness from the Pole Dance Palace that saw us that night.  Some bald guy who cried for his wife.  He wants money or he's going to tell the cops he saw me stab your uncle.  I have to pay him 5,000 dollars tomorrow morning at Arby's or he'll go to the cops.

And now it's raining.  

Shit, this is what happens when you try to help people.

Kwan