Wanda Maximoff

I am simply too tired to figure out how to reset my phone contacts to text all you lovely people. Yes, I am back from my working trip (I have a lot of very expensive cheese and vodka, please don't question it too much). Thank you to whomever kept my rooms free of dust, especially my books, and even without dipping into my wine stash too much. I love you, too.

The biathlon reminds me why I hate cross country skiing. The shooting while skiing is fine and at least their targets aren’t moving.

Starting later today, there will be brown paper bags, of all shapes and sizes, stapled closed and filled with random books. Very, very random books. In random places. It's both a book lottery and a scavenger hunt.

To the winner, go the spoils, whatever they might be!

I have no idea who I reversed exploded a color packet onto - nice try at the ambush by the way - but sorry, not sorry.

Happy to say that the reports of my death have been greatly exaggerated. Bit of a long story that I'm honestly too tired to get into but, long story short, I was offered a place to get my powers under control (read: kidnapped but at least she had excellent wine).

Amanda, I would greatly appreciate you checking me over when I get back to the Mansion later tonight. Not that I don't trust Soo-jin but I sometimes don't trust her.

She promised me she gave a few of you a heads up but I don't exactly trust her on that, either.

If one more person brings up that "it's Friday the 13th and, oh no, the rehearsal dinner is tonight...", complete with a dramatic pause, I will personally introduce them to the lake.

Considering everything, if people would like to join me at Harry's tonight, I'll be grabbing a few booths and buying a few rounds. 

Did you break into my suites for the sole purpose of leaving me ... thirty? Is that thirty? ... grilled cheese sandwiches? Why did you make me so many sandwiches and why are they all in my kitchen?

(Actually, it's twenty-eight now.)

And of course you did this. You only know how to make breakfast and, apparently, grilled cheese.

I woke up to this on my leg, under the blanket. (Which is pretty talented, actually, person whose handwriting I recognize.)

Anyway, I / we are awake. It is a very long story.

I am told I broke my favorite coffee mug when I went down. I hate everything.

So, according to my most recent phone call, I am being kidnapped, post haste. He's a terrible kidnapper as I have been informed of exactly when it will happen and where I will find myself. But while Simon is a terrible kidnapper, at least he's handsome.

I will apparently be heading off to Acapulco in a few days. I believe I shall be gone for about a week. If you need to get in touch with me, please make sure it is an emergency. I will be most unhappy if you interrupt my unexpected vacation simply because you missed me. (I will miss you, too, just certainly not that much.)

(Yes, Jean, it is that Simon. Hush, stop making that face with the eyebrows and come help me pack.)