Archive for January, 2011

31
Jan
11

You spend all your time preaching about waiting for love. Well here it is. *

Dear Katie,

Actually, eff that.

Dear All Female Readers of this Blog,

That second X chromosome employed by your kind always keeps me guessing, but perhaps never in a more confounded way than you, Katie. Now listen, I’m not claiming that you and I were meant to be in any way, shape or form (even though the header quote would imply I do believe that…I don’t rush to love, the quote just kind of fit. If I could substitute ‘like’ for ‘love’ it’d be more appropriate of our situation). After all, how could I, we never even hung out outside of the academic institution we met at. You deemed that impossible because you, “aren’t dating during grad school.” I mean, don’t get me wrong, I’ve gone through periods of my life where I’ve taken breaks and what not, but to swear it off for the better part of two years seems asinine to me.

I understand the whole ‘need to focus on my career’ and crap like that; but if undergrad is a good time to contract an STD because of all the random sex, which (un)fortunately I wouldn’t know about (allow me to explain, the ‘fortunately’ part was about the STD, the ‘(un)’ was in regards to the lack of sex I had in college)…where was I? Ah, graduate school seems like a perfect  time to meet someone who might play a significant role in your life, instead of just the next morning.

Think about it, at this age we are (for the most part), waaay more mature, know a little bit more about what we want out of life, and given we were in the same program, we obviously have something in common. Last but not least, given the flirtatious nature of our relationship, I’d say its safe to see we are attracted to each other on some level. Again, I’m not claiming either one of us wanted to have a single drink then play ‘just the tip, just for a second, just to see how it feels…’ But you see what I’m getting at, right?

Why not give it a try? You are so career driven that I can’t see a romantic relationship getting in your way so much that you fail out of grad school. Would it be that big of a deal if your GPA was a 3.87 instead of a 3.94? I guess you could have just been letting me down easy, but since I know for a fact you have not gone on a date, and have only had one drunken makeout in over a year and half since you started school, AND the aforementioned flirting that went on between us, I doubt that you were. Of course, I have been known to completely misread situations (more or less every one) in the past, so who the eff knows. What is it about females? It can’t be as simple as that extra X chromosome, can it?

Anyway, if you were letting me down easy, it’s cool, I understand. If not, we’ve got another few months before our door closes. I suggest attempting to take a step through it with me. Wow, after that horrificly cheesy metaphor, I guess I’d understand if you aren’t interested in a drink, or making out.

Good talk,

Your favorite TA

*Cruel Intentions

28
Jan
11

“tonight, allegra cole may get her ‘last’ first kiss.” *

editors note: i have a great brand new letter that needs to be written…and i had all these grand plans to do just that this morning. however, it is 28 degrees, and not a cloud in the sky. so im going to ski instead. this is my 3rd ever letter and had like 17 viewers though, i figured id give it another chance. if you have already read it, sorry. but it’s my blog, and i can do what i want. including writing in all lowercase letters. deal with it.

Dear Carolyn,

It was over 20 years ago, but I remember it like it was yesterday.  Tucked away into the hills of a small town New England State (can’t give away my anonymity quite yet), I was a 9 year old kid who received his first kiss from the cutest 12 year old this side of the Mississippi.  Granted, I made it entirely awkward by turning to the side and I think half of your lips were on my cheek, the other half on my ear, but you have to cut me a break…I was 9, and I was being held up to you against my will by my bunkmates.

I believe it was during those thirty minutes after evening activity was over (capture the flag, perhaps?), back in the days of overnight camp when boys and girls could still socialize without having to worry about some kind of parental complaints.  Though to be completely honest, there is no way I was actually socializing with you – A. you were a girl & I was (still am) a boy (well, almost a man)  B. I was 9 & you were 12 C. you were cute & I was somehow the most awkward looking 9 year old who didn’t have braces, probably due to my bowl cut and freckles…and a face that reminded many of Paul from The Wonder Years.

But my bunkmates forced the relevant information out of me; and by forced I mean they probably asked me who I was going to ask to banquet.  My immediate response was “no one,” but after a couple older boys told me I couldn’t go alone, my next response was you, Carolyn.  So they convinced my to ask you, right then and there.  I walked over to you, and like out of a movie you were somehow sitting alone on your cabin steps, which of course made it far easier for me to talk to you (and way too hard to back out).  Somehow I stumbled up the courage, or fear of more torture from my entourage who was right behind me, and here’s how I’d like remember the conversation transpiring,

Me: Would you like to go to banquet with me?

You: Awww, you are too sweet…but I’m already going with the best athlete and cutest guy at camp.  If you had asked me first though, I totally would’ve gone with you.

This is probably how the conversation went,

Me: Um, hey…I’m XXXXX, oh yeah, we are on the same tennis court, you know that. Um, I know you probably don’t want to, but um, I need a date to the banquet and uh….

You: Oh, no. Thanks though.

I turned to walk away, quickly.  Some idiot ‘friend’ of mine shouted, “he wants a kiss too!” You were too sweet, you should’ve just laughed it off…but you told me to turn around, which some of my friends did for me by grabbing hold of my arms.  That’s when you went in to kiss me on the cheek, and I turned and you got some ear.  There is almost nothing I regret about that night, Carolyn, except not turning the other way.  If I had done that, perhaps you would’ve felt the chemistry that I knew was there between us when our lips connected…or more likely you would’ve slapped me in the face.  Either way, at least I would remember my first kiss a little more successfully.  Anyway, that’s enough for now.  Hope this letter finds you well…and maybe still single?

I shall forever remember your lips upon my ear,

Paul Pfieffer

*Hitch (not a huge fan of this movie, but it fits)

26
Jan
11

dear ione skye & john cusack,

Thanks for making it nearly impossible for men all over the world to let go of a girlfriend. I guess in all fairness I should include Cameron Crowe & Peter Gabriel in this letter also. Let me tell you the lesson that I, and millions of other males, learned the first time we saw this movie: “Gentleman, if a woman breaks up with you and you want her back, it’s simple, stand outside her window playing some romantic love song in the wee hours of the morning and I promise, you will win her back!” Well, though I am sure I am not the first to come to this conclusion – this strategy doesn’t work in real life.

To be honest, I don’t have any empirical proof to back it up, since I’ve never been so desperate to get back together with someone (though, there are MANY girls I’ve been desperate to get together with in the first place, but that’s a different situation). The only reason I know it doesn’t work is because I’m not an idiot. While in many ways I’m an idealist, and would love to believe I could win a woman’s heart over by standing outside her door holding my iphone above my head with it blaring “fill in cheesy love song from this decade,” I know it just doesn’t happen that way. Or maybe, it does. I’m going to cut myself off from blabbing on and on and open this up to the general public…Ladies & Gents, please comment with quick story if something similar to the following scene has happened in your life, and not only that, if it actually did the trick.

24
Jan
11

Wanna get drunk and fool around? *

Dear Shelly,

Thanks for making my 23rd birthday so memorable. For once, I had people to celebrate with me on my special day. Typically, it came at the end of summer right after camp, and right before school. However, for some reason in 2004 the end of camp coincided precisely with my day of entry into this great world. Crap, what started out as an upbeat letter just became incredibly depressing for me to write. Was I really going to summer camp in my mid 20′s? The answer, obviously (and somewhat pathetically), is you are goddamned right I was! And if that isn’t pathetic enough, I’ll be going back this summer since I have nothing else to do. If you don’t think I’m not-so-secretly psyched about this, you are an effing moron. Anyway, back to you, Shelly…maybe you can come back to and we can make out again on my birthday?

So since it was the end of camp, it was also counselor party, and naturally, we were pretty much all s-faced. Not the owner of camp however, he has been banned from the party since the mid 90s for hitting on females a couple of generations younger than him, which if you ask me, is awesome. Anyhoo, since it was my birfday someone had grabbed hold of some champagne bottles, made a toast and gave me a bottle of my own, which I guzzled. Quickly. So quickly in fact that I felt the need to regurgitate some quality camp food. So, I made a solo lap around the camp grounds, did a bit of puking, all while trying my best to finish the bottle. I accomplished this, stuffed three pieces of gum in my mouth and made my way back to the group.

Upon return I thought it would be a good idea to announce, “Ok, who is going behind the cabin to make out with me…it is my birthday after all.” I really didn’t think it would lead to much, but thanks to you Shelly, I did indeed get a pretty sweet makeout session that night.  There was a butt grab here, a boob grab there, and all was right with the world; even though I’m pretty sure you went and did more than make out with the camp man-whore later that night. I can’t really begrudge you that though, there is no way I would have been able to perform given my state. I probably would’ve acted a lot like Mark Sanchez did last night…totally frazzled and appear completely out of place for much of the session, before trying my best towards the end to make up for it, before screwing it up again at the end. Only it would have been you I would’ve annoyed, not an entire fan base. Yet I digress.

I think we’ve covered it well though…like I said, thanks for making out with me.

Scott (oh wait, that’s the guy you effed after making out with me).

ps – I’ll be 30 at the end of this camp summer, think I can pull out the same lines?

*Jaws




Letters sent…

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