Hi. I am not Petri. She’s gone this week and I am filling in. It will not be as awful as you think. First off, we are both tall blonds who work in the Editorial department, and people have actually confused us in person. Second, we are friends to the extent that I know things about her you don’t. Example: I know how she pronounces her last name. It is not the way you assume, nor your second guess.

(It’s Pee-try. Right, it’s weird. She never corrects anyone, and just about everyone gets it wrong, but that is how she pronounces it. If it sounds pretentious to you, you don’t know Petri. It’s contrarian. In fact, you should probably leave her a detailed voice message about how you think “Petri” ought to be pronounced. She will love that.)

Petri and I are also close enough for me to know she owns this weird plate (an actual petri dish!) and I have been near enough to it to take this
picture of it.

But mostly, I am qualified because I am, at the current moment, inhabiting her brain. Petri writes plays, and I act in plays, and as it happens I am at this moment in rehearsal for one of her plays. In the role of a tall blond person.

And the play is wicked steamy hot. But it is also Petri-hot, which means it’s about incredibly smart, hilarious people getting one another all gooshy but with, like, jokes about Siegfried Sassoon. I’d tell you more about it — I’d quote lines and describe scenarios in great, lurid, throbbing detail, but as it turns out, I still need a regular paycheck.

Because here’s the thing: The play is about a quasi-pretend Petrish person having extremely amorous times. Meaning at some point she came up with these scenarios in her head, with a character quite similar to her, and this amused and inspired her, and now I am being paid to spend hours each day figuring out precisely the most effective way to make these thoughts of hers happen, for her amusement and inspiration, in front of our moms and whomever our moms choose to invite to the show, which OH NO WILL PROBABLY INCLUDE OUR DADS.

It’s really awkward when I pass her in the hallway on my way to get coffee, is the point.

And now I get to muck about in her blog for a week. This is pretty much exactly how all arch-nemeses are born. Heh heh heh heh.

Anyway, enough about Petri. You probably want to know all about me, and how awesome I am. As it turns out, I am far too modest to tell you, but fortunately another Post writer already has explained me, in this column titled “Raising stupidity to an art form.”