I knew it was too good to last.
I stayed at school a little late tonight, trying to get ahead of all the end of the year business that’s about to surge at me. So I’m sitting there in my classroom enjoying the peace and quiet, just listening to some music and winding down from the day when I hear the e-mail alert on my phone.
All right, before I go any further: If you somehow missed out on the odyssey I endured last winter, revisiting the posts I’ve linked below should catch you up....
The Cinnamon Invasion, Week 1
The Cinnamon Invasion, Week 2
The Cinnamon Invasion, Week 3
The Conclusion of the Cinnamon Invasion
Okay, so now we’re all on the same page, here’s what I found waiting in my inbox.
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Hey buddy!
Sorry it’s been so long since you heard from me. Actually I guess this is the first time you’re hearing from me, isn’t it? Because we first met when I just showed up in your house that one time (hahaha!). I found your email address the morning I hacked your password and messed up all of your Internet stuff (you buy some very unsettling things in your online shopping, by the way; what’s up with that? Browser history, anyone? Here’s a tip: Clear it, the first chance you get.) just in case we were ever separated and I needed a way to get in touch. Well, you know now how that turned out.
Women, I tell ya...you just never know. You CAN NOT be too careful. Pretty sure I learned my lesson, though. I really thought I was safe. She was pretty, she smelled nice, she laughed at my jokes, she was a name brand instead of some discount store knock-off, she was only about ten inches tall so we were pretty compatible there, and she even wore a sparkly holiday dress. How am I not going to notice that whole package? Then she turns out to be some kind of demon with a thing for razor blades and wire hunting me down...man, I tell ya. That dude in The Crying Game has nothing on me when it comes to awful surprises.
But that distraction you gave me when you were storming around the house and yelling was all the time I needed to get out. Yeah, I had to use up most of the magic I’d been allotted for the season to do it, that’s true. And I had to find a new hat after I shredded up the old one to throw her (it? I don’t even know) off my tracks. Once I put a fair amount of real estate between me and that plastic chunk of crazy, I thumbed my way up into the ice-road trucker part of Canada and hooked up with some old buds of mine from the guild. I had some explaining to do (haha) but I passed around some of that awesome candy I’d found at your place and everything was cool. One of the guys even gave me one of his spare hats, so I’m as ready to rock and roll as I’ll ever be.
Which is pretty darned lucky, by the way, because if I knew just exactly how dire things were outside of our happy little holiday sanctuary last year, I probs would have tried to hide myself a little better than I did, just to stay out of the crossfire. Did I mention there’s pretty much a full-on WAR going on out here? Of course no one bothers to tell me any of this to me until I’ve settled in and all, but, um, YEAH. Battle Royale for the hearts and minds of the world and all, I’d call that kind of a deal. As soon as I heard about all that, I understood why they were so eager to forgive and welcome me back to the fold, even after all the stuff I’d pulled in the past (not that it wasn’t justified, mind you; I’m just saying). From what I can tell, my overlord status isn’t as important to the cause as it might have been some 200-300 years ago, and now they’re just happy to have one more body on the game board. Sure makes me feel needed. (That’s sarcasm, by the way, in case you couldn’t tell -- you and I weren’t housemates all that long, but quick thinking didn’t seem to be one of your strong points, so I just don’t want any of this sailing over your head.) I mean, don’t get me wrong and all -- being here beats being on the run. By a country mile, or, kilometer, I guess, since technically I’m still in Canada right now. I’m supposed to be moving out sometime later in your summer. I haven’t been told where yet, but really, anything will be better than Canada at this point. I can’t tell you how many of the nimrods I’m living with still think “Take off, hoser” is the peak of all that is comedic.
But anyway, I mostly just wanted to check in with you and let you know, that, yes, I’M FINE. I can only imagine how worried you’ve been since I just lit out without as much as a goodbye or a Happy New Year or anything, and I apologize so much for that. Hopefully I’ll be able to make it up to you at some point; like I said, I haven’t been told where I’m being deployed or exactly what my responsibilities will be once I’m there, but I’ve been listening closely to a lot of conversations that weren’t meant for my pointy ears, and I THINK there’s a CHANCE I MIGHT be finding my way down in your neck of the woods again at some point! Wouldn’t it be awesome if we could hang during the holidays again? Talk about Bro Time! The memories.... I never went to college or anything, but I’m sure it probably would have been just as awesome as that month at your place.
Just to be on the safe side though, you probably want to have someone come out this summer to clean out your air ducts a little better.... I developed some kind of funky respiratory infection in early January, and I’m not saying it’s because of anything from your house, but, you know, I was there for a whole month so I’m not saying it isn’t, either. Well, mostly a whole month, except for that one night on the town...man, remember, just never trust the Barbies. I am not kidding about that.
Catch you on the flip side...Cinnamon out....
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Now, at this point, I realized I hadn’t checked the incoming address of the message. Of course it was my own, like one of those times someone is trying to be all stealth in hiding who they’re sending their email to, so they do some kind of BCC-ninja move when the only address that shows up on the message is their own. When I put it together that Cinnamon had been running around with my e-mail password since December, a lot of the more deviant spam I’ve been receiving since then suddenly made more sense.
The holidays are still many months down the road, but I’m already feeling a quiet dread about them now.
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