Okay, this whole Kaycee Nicole thing (see here, here, here, here, and here) is something that I find that I must discuss, even though I am writing this as a back entry, and thus it is all very old and tired and everyone is really over it, but maybe it's just that I want to remember that this happened when I read this again next year.

It seems that there was a little girl named Kaycee Nicole, a fine, loving girl, a high school basketball star, a girl with a fine, angelic spirit, a girl with cancer. She was loved by all and sundry, who sent her notes of love and gifts and money, and then she died and strong men wept in the streets.

Except that she never actually existed and none of it happened. You know, except for the part of people sending gifts and money, and loving her.

Now, I only found out about her from another journal about a month before she "died", and though I was sorry that she was sick and bookmarked it for later, I didn't really read much of it, so I really had no investment in the whole thing, but found it more interesting than if I hadn't seen the journal before the unmasking. I mean, I wasn't fooled, so what did it have to do with me?

Until Kristen wrote this, and I realized that it really did have something to do with me, it has to do with everyone who cares about someone that they never met because they read their words on a website.

When Kristen was sick, you see, I sent her a box of presents to cheer her up. I really enjoyed making up the box, I thought about what a person all busted up and stuck at home might need, what I'd want sent to me if someone had thrown a bottle in my face and made me fall down and break my arm, so I made her copies of my mix tapes and got her a funny book and loads of chocolate, and filled the whole box with plastic Easter grass, and she got it and was happy and I was all pleased with myself for making her feel better.

It never crossed my mind that she might not be real, literally not even once. I read her journal, she reads mine, we correspond a little, but we aren't like bestest friends or anything, I just liked her, had gotten to like her through her writing, and felt like we had a connection, but it's not like she's someone that I've been writing to for years and years or anything.

And if it turned out that none of it was true, that she was somebody other than what she said, that the whole journal was a writing exercise or something, or even that everything was real but she never had a bottle thrown at her and fell and broke her arm, I would have felt completely betrayed.

I'm remembering Renee's baby shower, and the box of stuff we sent Deb when she was pregnant, Christmas and birthday presents that I have sent to people, and received in return. My God, when my father died, and when Milo just died, everyone was so kind and good to me. There is so much affection in this community, though that is a sentence that makes some people laugh, but people have gotten married and fallen in love and gotten hurt and people have died and had babies and people have been there for them. And maybe next time, remembering this, they won't be.

By the way, of course, I am me, I am real, but I don't think that there could be an awful lot of doubt about that. I have met so many other journallers, stayed at their houses, people have been to my house, seen my shows met Cynthia and Fran and the kids, that it would be have to be the most enormous conspiracy for me to have misrepresented myself in any way other than pretending that I am more the star of my world than I actually am, but that's just perception.

Lenten entries missed:

Speaking of people who are real, Renee shows what a tough mom she is, but also what a big old softy she is, she worried about being sick, and watched the Oscars.

Today's horoscope:
Today you can be more patient and practical than usual at work. Common sense and stability are watchwords.

One year ago today:
I mean, very few roles actually require an actress to be a big ol' horse with a rough mouth and a secret romantic soul--I was fucking born to play that part.

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Last Updated Sun 3 June 20:34:09 2001