∞
Jim,
'Fire on the mountain,' huh? Is that code for ‘I wanna move in with you?’ If so, bring your dog and your pajamas and never leave.
I love you,
Pam
Pam -
I may fall over in front of my class this afternoon but you are so worth it, you dirty girl.
Lustfully yours,
Jim
Jim –
I wish I had the words to tell you how happy you make me. I love you and Jeeves and our garden and our life. This is getting good.
So grateful,
Pam
p.s. enough with the Neruda already! I want your words. Make me swoon, Halpert.
Pam,
You’re merciless. You keep me up all night, you chain me to the stove and make me cook for you and now you want to be wooed with words. Will it never end?
Jim
Jim,
Suck it up, Big Daddy. You’re the writer, so…write. I’m more than happy to provide inspiration if you need it.
I really like you in those pants.
And no, it will never end. Ever.
Pam
XX
Please click here for the rest of the story, but don't forget to come back!
http://sweetpea46.livejournal.com/
Lots of endnotes for a change, okay?
First, here’s the blurb from the interview that planted the seed:
Class Act
John Krasinski imagines his alternate-universe life as a teacher
I go by Mr. K. I'm teaching English at a prep school in rural Connecticut. In my class, homework is not homework, it's preparation for the next day. I love teaching books that have been pigeonholed as ''epics,'' and my big thing is discovering for yourself why you like them. I'd have a lot of stuff written in some cryptic way on the whiteboard where you can't understand it until we start talking about the book. I'd throw desk supplies off bridges... I've gone out on several dates with the bio teacher. Her name is Sarah, and she's just a really great girl. I'm more gregarious than she is; she brings me into the underground indie-world stuff and I bring her sonnets. It's weird because the kids are talking about this new show called The Office and they're like, ''You guys are so much like Pam and Jim!'' and I'm like, ''I don't have a TV. Sorry, I'm not into pop culture stuff.''
Lisahoo is the only reason this epilogue is even here - all the graphic work is all her. When I had the idea for doing the book, I asked her if she’d be willing and if she’d said no, I would have had to write something completely different. So many thanks to you for letting me write what I wanted and for letting your children starve for the sake of art. You’re the best.
I knew I was eventually going to have Jim write an original poem, which meant I had to write an original poem. Dread doesn’t begin to cover that. Thank you to Colette for applying her word precision mojo and helping to make it better than it was. Hey, if you know the chick who is trained on the sniper rifle, you call her!
Lovefool, I think we got lucky like Angela and Jenna. Thank you for everything you did to make this happen.
The handsome pooch playing Jeeves appears courtesy of his mom, Colette.
DFW
