A note from the mysterious “Nancy D”

Got home yesterday. Got the mail. Started going through it.

There was one small envelope, and it was addressed to me in familiar handwriting. It’s funny: I have friends that I have met in the last 10 years – and I would not know their handwriting by sight, due to the lack of snail mail. But the friends from before that? I know it all. Kate. I would know her handwriting in a dark alley. Pat. His handwriting is as known to me as the freckles on my face.

So there was an envelope with my friend Betsy’s handwriting on it. Obviously.

Yet. The name in the return address on the envelope was “Nancy D.” What the hell?

There are multiple levels of confusion here (possible). The first one is that my friend Beth’s maiden name starts with “D”, and her mother’s name is Nancy. So I thought: “Beth’s mother wrote to me?” Considering the last couple of months, it wouldn’t be out of the question. I have been hearing from a lot of people. But … second level of confusion … the return address was in Virginia. Why would Beth’s mother, who lives in Rhode Island, be writing to me from Virginia? Yes. Betsy lives in Virginia, but … whatever … sometimes I’m not so bright … and i got all confused.

Maybe it’s NOT Betsy’s handwriting. Maybe it just LOOKS like her writing.

My confusion deepened when I opened the envelope. There was no letter. Just a small blue piece of paper and on it was written:

It’s a bit gratuitous to quote passages from Shakespeare on a daily basis.
— The Clue of the Dancing Puppet

What. The. Hell.

Now here is where I went a little bit insane for about 3.2 seconds. It had been a long day and I was very depleted at that point. It was 8 p.m. and I hadn’t eaten in 5 hours. So factor that in.

Suddenly, I knew it WASN’T Betsy at all … it was some person who reads my blog, who hates me (I know you’re out there!) – and they somehow found out my address and sent me that bitchy statement about Shakespeare … like: stop quoting Shakespeare, you snob … and for 3.2 seconds I got very afraid. How did they get my address? What the hell? Do I quote Shakespeare all that much? Oh. Yeah. I guess I do. Someone is so angry about it that they would take the time to write up a note like this and send it to me? Should I call the police?

But then there was the strange “clue” of “The Clue of the Dancing Puppet” which, after the 3.2 second freakout, I promptly Googled.

(Ahem.)

And then the return address became clear. Nancy D. Of course.

Betsy lives in Virginia, found a quote in an old Nancy Drew book, thought of me, put it on a little blue card, and popped it in the mail – putting “Nancy D” as the sender in the return address slot … and suddenly, as all of that finally became clear (it took long enough), I started laughing hysterically, all alone in my apartment.

After my 3.2 seconds of freakout where the small blue card suddenly seemed unbeLIEVably hostile, sent to me by an unknown “Nancy D” who, for whatever reason, had a problem with me quoting Shakespeare … it became the best moment of the day.

Put it up on the bulletin board.

I have good good friends. I am very lucky.