A New Letter and a New Supervisor

Dear Diary,

Sometimes, I am sure that the Denver DLO only exists in some long-forgotten episode of the 'Twilight Zone'. In reality, I am still living my life in DC, and only my dream-self is trapped in Denver. I mean, the hours are insane, Rita and Norman are like two awkward adolescents who can't even talk to each other, let alone actually get to the point, our supervisors are getting progressively odder (Remind me to come back to that Diary) and Oliver is … something.

Speaking of Oliver, that man is slowly taking over my life. He was even the cause of an argument I had with my mother (I know, we really don't need reasons, we can butt heads over nothing) that occurred during the filial penance that she calls weekly phone catchups. She had the temerity to ask why I spent so much of our phone conversations talking about him (Oliver). I mean really! Then, she also asked if I had swallowed a thesaurus as my vocabulary seemed to be increasing. I completely ignored her request to know how vast Oliver's vocabulary might be. She can be the most infuriating and person I know (and I know Oliver O'Toole). What on earth is she on about?

Speaking of Oliver, which I am absolutely not going to do…he is soo annoying! He began the day with Ecclesiastes – to everything there is a season – and a pointless discussion about being invigorated or vigorated, or something. He absolutely deserved the rearrangement of his letter openers that I may or may not have indulged in yesterday. What planet did he arrive from? The more I think about it, the more the 'Twilight Zone' seems appropriate. A new cast member also joined our episode today, the very seasoned supervisor Cora Bradt. Apparently, we are going to be swinging for the stars. Poor Oliver almost had a seizure when Cora questioned the Paris box. Sometimes watching him squirm is entertaining, but in this case, it was excruciating. Poor lamb, c'est tout!

Diary, I need to talk about Rita. She is the sweetest, and I think I love her. She is the most delightful and supportive person I have ever met. She is also more inclined for fun than I originally had her pegged at, and I think she is beginning to become an excellent sidekick in misadventure. Not only that, but she is almost unstoppable. While I can barely keep up with this diary, Rita is off writing novels. Really long historical romance novels. Really long. I can't believe that Rita was brave enough to document her infatuation with Norman in the most thinly veiled fiction. Rita's book, however, might just be a lifesaver, as Cora Brandt seems taken with it. It should keep her busy for days. Norman seems more interested in Hawaiian stamps than Rita's prose. I must get him to read it … I think it might be instructive.

I have to talk more about Norman too. He is really good at his job! His analogue search skills are almost as fast as my digital ones. His cousins though. What is up with that? How many does he have? Does he really have a cousin called Demetria? And did she really try to get married in a prison?

Our current letter is a heartbreaker. We have a letter for Marie, from her childhood sweetheart Sam. Despite Cora's 'solve it or shred it' attitude, I have a feeling that this letter is special. Written on a cattle ranch's ledger paper, it is a beautiful testament to the strength of love. It is from one soulmate to another. I couldn't help it, I was joking, but I told Rita that if Marie didn't want Sam, I'd have him in her place. That was a little too frivolous for our fearless leader, as Oliver gave me a look that I would have to call 'old fashioned'.

But stop everything! The DLO has a phone! Who knew! Granted, it is a baby blue rotary phone, but still, it is a sign of technologically intelligent life. And Oliver got a phone call…a mysterious phone call about Wednesdays. Curious and curiouser…..

In pursuit of the letter's author, Oliver and I took a one-hour drive to the 'Star Lily Mountain Ranch'. It certainly was a very quiet trip. I am not sure that we spoke one word. Oliver seemed to be somewhere else, and I… I had a whole hour to consider what the DLO's 'man of mystery' (Rita's words, certainly not mine) meant about Wednesdays. Oh, and also, how Oliver knows anything about baseball. Sporty does not seem to be his milieu (and maybe I should stay away from anything French).

Once at the ranch, we found that we had missed Sam, but did find out Marie's last name, and that the letter is over eight years old. That is tragic. 'You are my land, my water, my sky'. Sam certainly has a way with words. It makes a girl wish someone would write letters to her like that. Ha! Chance would be a fine thing. Cora's distraction with Rita's book means that I can find out Marie's address, and we can deliver the letter tomorrow.

At some point, diary, I am not going to have to write, 'And then I did the bad thing'. Today is not that day. I probably shouldn't involve Rita, and by extension Norman, in my escapades. Having a posse is great though! Okay. We really should not have followed him. I am sure that we might have looked just a little bit ridiculous trying to hide behind lamp posts, or peering around corners, but we (okay it was mainly me) had to know what he was up to! Now I am not sure that knowing (well partially knowing) is any better though. Who was the woman Oliver met in the street? What is he up to?

Why do I care?

Aargh! Goodnight diary!