Archive | October, 2009

Dear Pink Boat Shoes

29 Oct

Dear Pink Boat Shoes,

Oh, my lovely things. You would be so much more lovely if you didn’t give me blisters. That make me feel like my toes are ON FIRE.

I like fires. I like bonfires. I like sitting close to them on a cold night at the beach– I don’t even mind how one side gets terribly, uncomfortably hot as the other slowly chills from the wind off the ocean, or the smoke flying into my eyes with little smoky daggers, or the smell of seaweed drifting up from low tide, or the sand drifting determinedly into my pockets and my hair. It’s all part of the magic that a bonfire creates. (Hear that all you people that have said we could bonfire tomorrow? Don’t flake out! I will be sad! I think bonfires are magic! Bonfires with guitars and marshmallows are major magic!)

But on my toes? No, fires on my toes from blisters from my pink boat shoes will not do. Hear that, pink boat shoes? Shape up!

If I can wear you and ignore/embrace the hipster implications of such a thing, I expect you to do me a favor and caress not distress my feet.

Love,

MM

Dear Anniversary

27 Oct

Dear Anniversary,

Yes, folks. Yes. It is Dear Mr. Postman’s and my anniversary. This is a special, special day.

I began Dear Mr. Postman exactly one year ago (hence the anniversary). We’ve come a lot way since then…

I started with a letter to Bill Clinton. I had to break the news to him gently that I was leaving him for his wife Hillary. Since then I’ve written letters to large groups of people, to inanimate objects (Dear Vegan Doughnuts is a personal favorite), to objects I wish were inanimate, to animals (varmint) and books and bands and songs and political offices and fruits…

We’ve covered some important issues here, people. And some really, really, really, reaaaaaaally unimportant ones. We’ve ranted and raved and applauded and bemoaned.

A run-down of the most-clicked-on-letters of all time, so far, as of today, so not so much all time:

1. Dear Half-Shaved (Female) Heads (who knew so many people were interested?)

2. Dear New Friend

3. Dear Body

4. Dear Facebook Status Updates

5. Dear Taylor Swift

6. Dear Friends Who Stop Calling Friends Back

7. Dear Religion, Bill Maher, and My Mother

8. Dear Pantsuits and Politics, Dear Living Alone, Dear Woody Allen Movies

9. Dear Leftovers

10. Dear People Who Think Sex and Love Are Unrelated, Dear People Who Hate People Who Read Trashy Magazines

Whew. Y’all better click on some of those, because I hate hyperlinking.

But what we would really like (me and the Dear Mr. Postman) (yes, the blog has feelings, duh) is….COMMENTS! FEEDBACK! Aka interaction. You know, you get to a year, and you’ve been together through thick and thin, and then one night you’re sitting in front of the TV together, not saying anything, and one of you is like, “Pass the chips” and the other one passes the chips and then all of sudden you realize that is the only thing that has been said for the last seven hours?!? Pass the chips?

Chips are awesome, don’t get me wrong.

So if you love a letter, let me know. If you laughed out loud, please please let me know. If you love vegan doughnuts, you ought to try a real one and live a little. Lying to yourself isn’t going to help anybody.

Anyway, I hope you have enjoyed the past year as much as I have. I hope there are more to come. Thank you for reading.

And thank you, Dear Mr. Postman, for being such a wonderful listener.

Love,

MM

Dear Nerdy Girls

22 Oct

Dear Nerdy Girls,

As a shout-out, I would just like to recount a conversation I heard today. I will call the girls Jane and Anne. I don’t have any friends named Jane and Anne, do I?

Jane: I didn’t seduce him even though it would have been easy and I totally wanted to. So I follow my own advice like 60%.

Anne: Good for you….How do you seduce people???

Jane: I think you have to start off by touching them casually throughout the night…then I think there’s a scary part where you have to kiss them.

Anne: The blind leading the blind…some seductress.

Jane: I kissed John! It was scary! I feel sorry for boys.

Anne: But we’re talking seduction here not middle school!

Jane: But once you kiss it kind of all follows.

Anne: Or you can be really bold and make them kiss you but that might involve lingerie.

Jane: I don’t even own lingerie! Is that bad?

Anne: Yes. You will die a virgin.

I think this last part was hyperbole. Given the nature of the discussion.

Thank you for allowing me to share that with you. I think I will start following my own advice like 60%. Sounds like a good number, don’t you think?

xoxo,

MM

PS– Good thing Tina Fey is hot right now. Giving us nerdy girls everywhere a hand up the social ladder.

PPS– As an end note, I would just like to say: despite the seeming shyness of the above conversation: don’t underestimate us.

Dear Rhyming

19 Oct

Dear Rhyming,

You and I, we don’t get along. When I try to write you, it comes out all,

Roses are red

Violets are blue

I think you are stupid

And I hate you.

While concise, it’s not particularly full of meaning or imagery or um, let’s see, anything worthwhile at all.

There was a young child named Bucket

When he got mad he would say…

Oops. Better stop there. You see what I’m saying. But today I am declaring a truce in this war of ours. Today I sat down, and I tried to trick you into coming into my poem by writing it and then sneaking you in between the words and then quick! before you or I could realize! pulling away the curtains and revealing you, naked and embarrassed, at the end of the line.

I feel exhausted, and a little bit dirty for some completely unexplainable reason, and proud, and very very nervous to show you in public.

Like maybe this is going to result in that scene from Young Frankenstein when the monster tap dances and sings for the huge crowds, and it’s fabulous, and they’re going wild, and then there is fire (right? I think so) and he goes nuts and stomps on some things and then the people are going wild. And both the monster and his creator are hunted down with pitchforks.

I’d rather not have that happen. But I was talking about taking risks with writing yesterday and decided to start with you, and thank you for sticking it out with me this morning. Maybe we should both take a nap and reconvene tomorrow.

Cheers,

MM

Dear Flannel

15 Oct

Dear Flannel,

Delicious. Comfy. Soft. Woolly. Fuzzy. Soft. Warm. Fuzzy.

Yes, please.

Yes, even here in San Diego, yes please. (Hey! We have nights here too. It’s the desert. It cools off. And foggy mornings! We have those. I loooooove those. This morning was fantastic. And then it got hot and now it is cool and pleasant. Oh man oh man.)

I’ll take whatever you’ve got, flannel, with an extra dose of cuddly. Plus you make me think of pumpkins and hay rides (anyone know where a girl can go for a hay ride?) and corn mazes with mud and a chainsaw chasing you and Michael falling and Chris luring Sarah off into the stalks…but that’s a story for another day.

Love,

MM

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