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20 June 2007 @ 12:55 am
I'm Writing Again...  
Well, I have started writing another fanfiction story. What can I say? I'm addicted. And I have decided to start posting what I have written here too. 

So, the prologue to my newest story, "Lorelai Gilmore's Analysis of the Modern Booty Call":

Lorelai Gilmore’s Analysis of the Modern Booty Call

Summery: LL, set early season 4; Staring at his hands in the diner one day, Lorelai Gilmore gets the itch. Now, only he can scratch it. Will a few harmless nights turn into something she has never wanted more?

Creative Liberties: Luke and Nicole’s divorce is actually finalized in the beginning...this little detail will be important later on.

Disclaimer: I got a fever and the prescription is more cowbell-er-fic writing...And, yes, it is not mine. None of it. Not even the cowbell.


Prologue: The Letter


Dragonfly Inn

2472 W Sores and Boils Alley

Stars Hollow, CT 06586

November 14, 2006

Dear Cosmo,

I’m not exactly sure how you start a letter like this. I mean, “to whom is may concern,” seems a little too formal for a magazine that has an interview with “Hollywood It-Girl” Katherine Heigl on one page, and “10 Ways to Make Your Man Scream,” on the next. Plus, someone has to be reading these. I guess I could say “Dear Betty,” to personalize it a bit, but then your name might be Jane, or Sally, or Bill (just because its Cosmo, doesn’t mean there isn’t a man working in your mailroom) and you say, “who the hell is Betty?” and toss this before even reading it. So, I’m just going to stick with “Dear Cosmo.”

Would you look at that? Six sentences in and I have yet to get to the matter at hand. Gotta be a new record. So, yeah, point? I do have one somewhere.

My name is Lorelai…not sure why I feel the need to introduce myself here, when you can just read my signature at the end, but well, what’s done is done. So, hi Betty/ Jane/Sally/Bill/unisex mailroom worker, I’m Lorelai. Long-time reader, first-time letter writer (hard to believe huh?). I just read your article, “To Screw or Not to Screw: The Truth About Booty Calls,” in one of your older magazines. Couldn’t tell you how old because I never throw anything away and the dog chewed off the date (thank you, Paul Anka...my dog, not the singer), but I do know Faith Hill is on the cover. Oh, and she’s wearing a blue dress.

My God, I’m still rambling. I swear, I am a professional capable of writing professional letters. See the letterhead?

This is just going to sound a little weird, considering that I am commenting on an old article about booty calls. I read the article, agreed with the article for the most part, but had one point of contention. And, I’m not the type of person who would normally write a letter in response to an article. In fact, I normally make fun of the people who feel the need to comment on an article…but, yeah, completely beside the point. See, to refresh your memory a bit, the article focused on the gritty truth about booty calls. Why you may want to participate in one. Why it may be a bad idea. Comments (mostly negative) from readers who had been through the whole thing. An interview with a psychiatrist who specializes in sexual behavior. A list of “dos and don’ts.” A quiz to see if you are the type of person who could handle a booty call. Schlemeel, schlemazel, the whole shebang. The whole collection was pretty impressive, actually, but there was one perspective that was completely ignored by the article.

That perspective is mine.

You see, I consider myself to be a modern women, but I was never too keen on the idea of having just a sexual relationship with someone. I was a single mom, and I certainly wasn’t one without particular, shall we say, urges. I dated. I did the whole casual relationship thing. I did the relationship thing. I did the engaged thing, once. I even did the “get back together with your ex, even though the all the forces of the universe will eventually tear you apart” thing (and, as a good friend once told me, it’s tough when the universe is against you). But, something always rubbed me the wrong way about having a purely sexual relationship with a man. I just could not see how you could separate sex from some sort of emotion or intense connection. How can you be so detached? It seemed so cold to me.

Then, there came a time in my life when I was 35 years old, single with absolutely no prospects, in the middle of building my up my very own business and my daughter had just moved away to college (Go ahead. You can do the math. I’m used to it.). I was lonely, and sad, and just a little bit desperate. And, I got the urge to do something...Anything! But, I just was not ready to be in another relationship relationship.

I see you shaking your head, Betty/Jane/Sally/Bill/mailroom worker of unspecified gender. You are wondering how my story is any different than all the other women who contribute. Yes, I fell for this guy (I know, I know. That could be seen as a big mistake), and yes the relationship wasn’t without its major emotional turmoil. But, unlike the bitter, unhappy, unsatisfied women of the article, it turned into something so much more than a few meaningless romps. Through it all, we, this man and I found a way and everything just…worked out somehow. I’m not quite sure I can explain it, even if I tried. Call it fate, written in the stars, yadda yadda yadda.

I’m getting ahead of myself here.

So, throughout this whole experience, I made this list. I guess you could call them rules we came up with during this part of our relationship. I found this list the other day, and thought, “hey, this might be helpful to someone. I certainly don’t need it anymore.” Attached is my list, rules, tips…whatever you want to call them. Not sure why I’m actually sending them to you (in fact, I’m not even sure why I am even writing this letter, but I put too much effort into it to back down now), but everything seemed to click when I read the article and found the list pressed in between the pages of a summer read I never finished. I just felt like it was something I supposed to do. Some of them may sound pretty redundant, like that Seinfeld episode where Jerry and Elaine come up with their own sexual relationship rules. “Staying the night is optional…” etc. Some are pretty specific to this guy and I (I added notes to help explain why I jotted this note down. Nobody likes inside jokes, right?). As for the title, “Lorelai Gilmore’s Analysis of the Modern Booty Call…” eh, it’s a work in progress. Do with it what you will.


Lorelai Gilmore

PS: My man sends his heartfelt appreciation for “10 Ways to Make Your Man Scream.”

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