December 27, 2004

About once a week, I have a little fantasy about Law & Order–well, “fantasy” isn’t quite the right word; this is far less hardcore than my Chris Meloni daydreams. We’ll call this a reverie.

In my reverie, I am the murder victim, and my body is discovered in the first minute of the show. Detectives Briscoe–I hope Dennis Farina can forgive me for going with Jerry Orbach in my reverie–and Green (or, if I was also raped and/or sexually mutilated, Detectives Benson and Stabler) will then spend the first half of the episode trying to find out who killed me.

So this is the question:

Who do they suspect?

There’s E.S., of course. My past behavior towards him would certainly have inclined a lesser man to homicide; who’s to say he didn’t discover evidence of a relapse? Then there’s E.S.’s ex-boyfriend, who hates my guts anyway. One of my students? One of the gay cheerleaders? Or perhaps a criminal unconnected to me who killed me because I happened to be in the wrong place at the wrong time?

The police would of course discover this blog and search it–and the comments–for clues. After expressing Carson-Kressley-like horror at the mess that is my apartment, they would find my porn stash, which might or might not give them any new leads.

I guess the question underneath all these other questions is: are the secrets I keep that I think are interesting the secrets that are actually interesting?

And what about the secrets that I’m not even conscious of keeping secret? What about the small things, the little embarrassments and vast shames, to whose suppression I have become so habituated that they don’t even register on my conversational topics radar?

The most entertaining finale I’ve come up with so far, by the way, is the discovery (almost certainly by Sam Waterston) that E.S. convinced one of his patients to kill me once (s)he was discharged from the psych ward in the hospital.

Though I’ve shared the reverie with him, I haven’t told him about this ending.

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15 Responses to About once a week, I

  1. i. bendito says:

    You have PTSD. *sob* Didn’t… DIDN’T I tell you not to fire that gun?

    And no–it has nothing to do with STD…. Sorry.

  2. Jess says:

    Oh dear. This is… um…

    Okay, I admit to being at a loss for words.

  3. tim says:

    I read all the way to the end and read “patients” as “parents”. I was shocked to find out that E.S.’s parents were in a psych ward. Then I went back and it all made sense.

  4. David says:

    Maybe Chris Meloni raped you and murdered you, and he is only FRAMING E.S.’s mental patient.

  5. Jeffrey says:

    I sense another reader contest coming on. Let us write the riotous ending to your reverie.

  6. Jere says:

    I know you’re just going to delete this anyway, which I will take as a signal of your undying affection…


    “WHOM do they suspect?”

  7. Joe R says:

    May I have your body when the police finish with it?

  8. i. bendito: As we’ve discussed, I have GAD and OCD but not, alas, PTSD. I figure I could try for the triple crown, but I’m having enough trouble managing the current regimen.

    Jess: For you, that’s saying something. I’m honored.

    tim: No, E.S.’s parents are not in the psych ward, or at least they weren’t as of Friday. Though it’s certainly possible that the sight of me shooting a gun might put them there.

    David: It is a logical impossibility for Chris Meloni to rape me. Because I’d totally give it up to him in a second.

    Jeffrey: Ooh, another reader contest! You’ve got me thinking. . . .

    Jere: Actually, I wrote “whom” at first and it just seemed so prissy that I changed it to “who.” I know that, prescriptively speaking, that’s incorrect, but dialectically (or at least ideolectically) speaking it seemed the better choice.

    Joe R: Of course you may–though you might end up having to fight Chris Meloni for it.

  9. livinghigh says:

    hey, followed u thru Venial Sin.
    died laughing when I read ure faves – the orgy, date, horns of dilemma, and porno movie accounts! lol – the detective sounds particularly yummy, too!

  10. Brian says:

    A disfigured and disgruntled former orgy attendee discovers your blog, and is enraged by your review of his poor performance. He tracks you down through a mysteriously sent pie protector, and comes to your apartment to confront you. A heated discussion ensues in the doorway of your pad, and as you spin to go inside and close your door, you slip and fall on an errant knitting needle, which pierces your heart.

    Initially, E.S. is suspected, but an errant fingerprint leads Briscoe to your stalker’s house, where they find a UPS slip with your name on it. Eventually, he pleads down to involuntary manslaughter; your death is worth only three years in prison, because of good behavior.

  11. livinghigh: You are too kind. And he is.

    Brian: Ooh, you’re good.

  12. mcm says:

    RIP Jerry Orbach


    Please tell me I’m not the only one deeply traumatized by this news….

  13. Pony says:

    Look what you did! Jerry Orbach is dead! Please, please… for fear of my own demise never mention my name in your blog.

    Actually, go ahead. The extra hits are worth it.

  14. Jay says:

    No! Not the “s(he)” form!


  15. christopher says:

    I was really torn between Richard Gere and Chris Meloni in “Runaway Bride”. I think that I opted to have them both. At the same time.

    Not that I have seen “Runaway Bride”. Er. Um.


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