Dear Amazon

I get it.  Fifty Shades of Grey trilogy is popular.  I've read it.  I loved it.  But I'm tired of seeing it recommended to me every time I buy a book.  I even bought the books from you!  So please just turn it off!

Gratefully,
Me

Dear Man in Seat 18B

Your breath be hella hangry yo!  For flights longer than 2 hours, please either bring a toothbrush, buy a pack of gum, or eat a garlic & onion bagel.  I'd prefer any of these than the torture I'm dealing with having to sit next to you for 5 hours. 

Love,
Me

Dear Fifty Shades of Grey...

You've managed to make angry, controlling men fashionable.  And you've made me curious about anal beads.  Hmmm...how you do that?

Love,
Me

Dear Cabo...

Brace yourself. In a little over 2 weeks' time, I will descend upon your shores.  I warn you now.  Hide your children. Lock everyone indoors. I will do my best to cover that which should not be seen.  But, its January.  We've had a sunless winter. And I've gluttonously been enjoying food and drink without remorse.

This will be very, very scary.

Consider yourself warned.

Love,
Me

Dear Karen F. Owens...

I gotta say, your Duke F@%K List has caused quite the stir.  Girl, if you're gonna put all your business out there, be prepared for the fallout.  Still, I have to admit, that was ONE entertaining read!  I laughed...it reminds me of the conversations I have (in private, mind you) with my girlfriends.

Couple things I find confusing:

How is it that with all the brew-ha-ha about the "Subjects" you go into detail describing, YOU haven't gotten much flack for being such a floozy!  I mean, c'mon! You slept with the entire team(s), practically.

Also, I gotta say, I was surprised to find that you're not that even that pretty!  And some of those guys were pretty hot.  Well, you did mention that most of them were under extreme alcohol-influence.  (this is not one of your best pictures, BTW)

In any case, you go girl...get yourself some...though I doubt you'll be welcomed back to Duke for homecoming any time soon...

PS - just in case you forgot what you put out there, here's a link to it (Duke F List)..drill down to the "document in full" section for the whole shabang!  Enjoy! (oh and if you're curious enough (as I just so happened to be), you can google this thing and find copies of the doc w/ the faces of the guys NOT blurred out...just sayin')

Love,
Me

Dear iPad...

I think I'm in love with you.

I want to touch you.  I want to get to know everything about you and how you can best serve me in my life.  You make things easy for me.  And even though you're a lot smaller than the others I've had, you please me...like they say: size doesn't matter if you know what to do with it.  And you do, iPad, yes, you do.

I love that you can so easily change positions for me...any way I like it.  You impress my parents and my family and I'm sure once my friends get to know you, they'll love you too.  So what if you lack certain traits.  Nobody's perfect. You rock in all the important stuff.  And you're pretty...god, you're pretty.  I feel important when we're together. People take notice and ask me about you.  They're jealous...they want you too.

I don't know how long this infatuation will last.  But, for now, you and me are going everywhere together.

*sigh*...

xoxo,
Me

Dear 23 year old suitor...

Shame on you. Let's make this clear, I am not quite ready yet to enter Cougarville.  Yet your charm and so-obviously-too-young-for-me good looks keep beckoning me towards there.  However, just when I thought that maybe I'd throw caution and all common-sense to the wind and possibly "hang out", your perfectly cliche youth and immaturity kicked me in the gut...thanks for the favor and the slap awake to reality.

With that said, I'd like to share some tidbits to help you in your future with women.  Consider it my "Mrs. Robinson" moment, only not rated R.

• Girls don't want to hear you urinate while on the phone with them.  So, as much as I appreciate you giving me notice that you "have to piss" or "take a leak", I don't want to hear the actual act.  Not hot.
• So, like, I get that you have to like, tell me a story, but like, I want to pull out like every eyelash every time I like hear you say "like".  Like, ok?
• I can appreciate being a student (yes, he's a student...ack) and not having any money.  But, the whole "you can be my Sugar Mama" thing is a major turn off.  Show some ambition, get a job during your summer break (yes, he's on summer break...ack)
• And while you're at it, I don't want to hear about how you had cereal every meal for 2 days and then had peanut butter on a tortilla because you didn't have bread.  Just makes me sad, really.
• Telling me how you haven't changed your sheets in "like, maybe a year" makes me want to vomit. 
• Describing your room as "so not a 23 year old's room" yet displaying a Bob Marley poster and a big black bean bag in the corner says differently.  Oh yeah, and that Japanese army poster you're so proud of...well, study some history...I'm Korean.
• If I was 25, maybe the "Asian girls are so fucking hot" compliment would make my heart warm, but really...that much enthusiasm kinda annoys me now.
• Anything more than 10 years is no longer counted in years, but rather generations.  Take note.

Bless your heart for trying.  I'm sorry girls your age don't "appreciate you".  Keep pluggin', kid.  Me: I'm too old, cranky, tired, and set in my ways to "chill" with you and "just have some fun".  I think I need to find the closest retirement community, approach it as my dating pool, and see if I can't find me a "mature man" to return the favor and teach me a thing or two...

Love, 

Me

Dear Devil's Henchman (aka The Dentist)...

There is a reason people do NOT want to go see you and put it off for as long as possible.  There is absolutely nothing pleasant about these visits.

Last November, I bit the bullet and allowed you to shove your hands into my stretched-to-the-max mouth and very painfully poke, prod, chisel, and shove a new crown on my molar.  I didn't appreciate that for the several months following, anything hot, cold, sweet, crunchy, or salty triggered an increasingly sensitive and painful reaction on that same tooth.

Now, you make me come back only to find that I need to consult with a root canal specialist?  Are you serious?

F' you.  You suck.  I hate you.  I sometimes think the hillbillies are on to something by just letting all their teeth fall out.  At least then they don't have to pay you to do it for them!  Bah!

Love,

Me

Dear C-SPAN

Due to my more-than-moderate interest in the voting for health care reform, I chose to spend a good portion of my day (willingly) watching you for the first time...pretty much ever.  Not bad.  Interesting.  Entertaining, at times. Ridiculous even.  But what I found most amazing is how we've managed to put some of the weirdest looking people in all of America into Congress.  I mean, yes, we've got the obvious ones:  Boehner, Pelosi, Lieberman... but man, some of those no-namers are just plain odd-looking.  I guess every tv show has to have its villains and monsters.  Well done, C-SPAN...you cast 'em perfectly. 

His tan is freakish...oh, and he's an ass...

Her superpower lies in those eyes...they scare you into submission...

Don't let the Bilbo-Baggins smile fool you...he's the bad guy...

You're all nuts.

Love, 

Me

Dear Driver Who Cut Me Off Today

Dear Driver of the SUV who cut me off today,

I try not to complain too much about traffic. Afterall when you live in LA, traffic (and bad driving) is just a part of life. Complaining about it just puts me in a negative mood. However, your lack of respect for your safety and mine on the road has taken discourtesy to new heights. There is a reason that your car comes with a blinker. It is not an accessory, it is a safety device used to warn other drivers that you intend to change lanes. Otherwise, we are left to try and read your mind. And as much as I would love to have that gift, I don't. Furthermore, were you aware that is now against the law to talk on the cell phone without a hands-free device? Clearly, the law was intended for people like you whose driving is severely impaired by being on the phone. My greatest wish for you is that a) you do not end up harming another person with your reckless driving and that b) you should experience some of the same frustration that you laid upon me today.

With great affection,
Me

Dear Lost Wallet...

I'll miss you.

I'll miss the drivers license I've had since I was 20 and the picture that made me look thin and made my false weight almost believable.

I'll miss my Sports Authority receipt that was going to allow me to return the extra pair of goggles, gloves, and hat that I never ended up using...and the $100+ dollars that would have been credited back to my Amex.

I'll miss my $10 Starbucks card that I had tucked away in there.

I'll miss the $40 cash.

I'll miss how the Coach billfold was the perfect size for me to carry around even in the ultra-small clutches I'd take on nights out.

I'll miss the 10+ hours it will take me to cancel my credit cards, go to the DMV to get a new drivers license, and try and convince the TSA to allow me fly domestically the next two weeks for the business and pleasure trips I have planned (the new DL will take up to 6 weeks and no, I don't have a passport)

Quite the pain and inconvenience you've caused by getting lost.

Thanks.

Love,
Me

Dear Twitter.com

I don't understand you. You remind me of the matrix; just page after page of meaningless and unending data that scrolls on forever.  What am I supposed to do with you?  I can't even find people I know because people don't use their real names.  I finally find someone that I know, and the longest message I can send them is about 3 words long.  Everyone includes a link to even more information whenever they type something, and what am I supposed to do, click on each one of those individual links?  I don't have time for you.  I'll keep my account, but only to pester Susan with it.

Lovingly Yours,
Me

Dear Shakira...

Your voice is weird.  If I were you, I'd stay away from ballads.  But your hip roll is money...stick with it...


Love,
Me

Dear Disgusting Growth on My Face...

So I noticed how you started small, basically just irritating the left corner of my mouth.  How the hell did you turn into this monsterous, red, crusty flesh-eating-virus-thingy?  Look, I admit I have been uber-stressed, working way too hard, eating like shit, and not sleeping...and yeah, PMS'ing.  But, I thought the whole point of getting older and dealing with (minor) laugh lines and crows feet was a trade off for not having a disgusting break out of acne!  

Seeing you tonight, I cannot believe the wrath, the big F'you, you're saying to my face.  Are you really a cluster of small zits...or are you actually something worse?  Is this going to turn into some District 9 nightmare?  Whatever you are...go away.  No matter how I try to cover you up with concealer, I see people's eyes wander in your direction when they're talking to me.  I'm starting to get self-conscious...and no boys will want to kiss me (at least that's today's excuse...).  

And you're making it hard to eat.  I can't open my mouth wide enough to take bites.  Its like Snookie after she got decked by that guy and had the fat lip and couldn't really eat the steak and lobster.  And believe you me, I kinda hate being likened to Snookie in any way.  

So, I'll ask nicely...heal thyself.

Thanks.

Love, 

Me

PS - I just noticed how when I frown, you kinda look like a comma hanging off my mouth.  Interesting.

Dear Sleeping Bear...

...aka my father...

Your snoring is ridonkulous.  I could hear it all the way downstairs.  And now, in the adjacent bedroom, its like your nose is right up against a microphone and the bass on the amp is turned to its highest level and the concert hall speakers are in the corner of my bedroom at this moment.  How the hell does anyone make such a sound with just their human body?  Shocking.

I'm laying here with my earbuds on, the music playing, and yes, I can still hear you...

At least I'll be awake when Santa visits our house tonight...

Love,

Me

Dear Bloated, Gluttonous, Stretched-to-the-Max Version of Myself...

You think you can use Thanksgiving as an excuse.  Thanksgiving is but one day.  What's the excuse for the other 3 days of this weekend in which you have overindulged in leftovers, Mom's cooking, brunch w/ old friends, pie, pie, pie, bowls of mashed potatoes cold out of the fridge just while walking around the house...

Let it be known...tomorrow is a new day.  And the devil-may-care attitude towards your excessive calorie consumption will be left behind in San Diego.  As of tomorrow, you better be ready to get off your ass, go for a run, revisit that P90X video sitting in the box, and get very used to living off of salad w/o dressing and ice cubes.

Skinny-girl-waiting-to-break-free-behind-all-this-blubber has spoken.

Love,

Me

Dear Ridiculously Good Looking Man...

You intimidate the crap out of me.  I hate that.  I am a bumbling idiot around you.  And it doesn't help that you're brilliant and witty and perfect in every way.  In any case, if you could please break your nose or get a really bad haircut of some kind or even just turn out to be a huge jerk I'd really appreciate it.  That way, I won't feel so absolutely smitten by you and I can silence the little voice in my head that says you're way out of my league and replace it with a confident "you're not all that"...snap, snap...

Thanks.

Love,

Me

Dear Worst First Date Ever...

I had my reservations about you just via our initial phone conversations.  But, I talked myself into being open-minded and at least giving you a chance.  I wasn't expecting too much...and boy did you seriously come in under the very low bar I had set. 


As I believe that everyone deserves love in their life, I'd like to give you some tips to reference when experiencing future 1st dates...just the basics:


On a 1st date, if inviting a girl to watch Monday Night Football, please clarify that you mean "not at a bar or restaurant with food and drink but rather at my house where I will offer you nothing but water and make an already uncomfortable situation even more awkward by making us sit together squished on my very small couch"


On a 1st date, don't play that game of "make her wait at the front door and ring the doorbell 3 times while I pretend that I was preoccupied and couldn't come down to open the door"


On a 1st date, be mindful of your attire.  You don't have to wear a tuxedo.  But walking around in your furry house slippers the whole time does not bode well.  Seriously.


On a 1st date, remember that conversation is key.  Dialogue, not monologue buddy.  Don't cut your date off any time she starts to speak and interject with what you assume to be witty/sarcastic/funny tidbits/factoids/jokes when in fact you are hovering very near the line titled "asshole".


On a 1st date, don't interrogate your date about her most recent ex over and over and over and over again.  Because really, at this point early on, its none of your business.


On a 1st date, don't ask your date to describe her "type", force her to answer though she's visible uncomfortable with doing so, and then say, out loud, "check" every time you think you've matched a characteristic she lists.  (and PS - let's get real here:  you can remove the self-anointed "check" from the smart, funny, and socially aware categories)


On a 1st date, when giving the tour of your home, do NOT, and I will repeat do NOT, say "this is where the magic happens" when showing your bedroom.  I can NOT believe that people ACTUALLY say that anywhere other than on MTV Cribs. 

On a 1st date, stop yourself from doing the yawn-stretch-put-your-arm-around-a-girl-move.  The last time that move actually worked was in the era of Richie Cunningham...and maybe even long before then.  What are we 14 again?  I thought it was a joke at first.  I was sadly mistaken.

I could go on and on and on...but I will leave you with this:

On a 1st date, be aware.  If the girl is obviously not into you (and hey, I've been known to give mixed signals, but DEFINITELY not last night...my disgust and misery were very, very clear), let it go...let her go.  Don't pout.  Don't try and hold on.  Don't make excuses to keep her there.  Don't block the door as she's trying to kindly make her way to her car.  Don't text her once she leaves...twice. Don't call.  Don't follow up.  Just let it go...let her go.

Seriously. 

There will be others. 

So take note. 

And best of luck to ya...

Love (and I say that only as my normal sign-off...don't read into it!),
Me

Dear Pumpkin Spice Latte

Respectfully, you're not worth the hype...nor the $4. Fortunately, you are merely a seasonal beverage.

Lovingly Yours,
Me

Dear BART riders...

Look, I know its really inconvenient with the Bay Bridge closure to have ALL of these people trying to pack into these little sardine cans just to get to the city for work...tight fit...breath and body everywhere.  It sucks.  And for you regular BART'ers out there, I'm sure you don't appreciate having us AC Transit bus riders and those non-earth-friendly car drivers stuffing and pushing into your ride.  Still, when I come on board and try to find myself a spot on the ground to plant my feet, take a look.  Clearly at a mere 5'0 tall, I'm closer to the floor than to the overhead hand rail.  No, I can't reach.  So, how 'bout you stop giving me a dirty look when I hold on to the corner of your seat.  I'm not trying to get up in your business, touch your hair, or steal anything.  I'm simply trying to avoid falling on my ass.  And may I remind you, you have a seat, I don't.  Let's all just try to ride along in peace.  And if not, F you.  See what happens when BART strikes and you try coming onto my bus...I'll show you unwelcoming...

Until then, ride on...

Love,
Me