Posts Tagged ‘friends


When we first started hanging out together, this morning, we were just friends; but things change, and I’ve fallen in love with you.*

Dear Helena,

You realize that if you knocked on my door today, and asked me to marry you there is about a 77% chance I’d say “yes.”  This is a very big deal, given a few things: 1. I’ve never been in what most would call a long term relationship, so jumping right into a marriage would be kind of a bold move. 2. While it’s cool you were in a movie with Robin Williams, said movie has less than a 5 rating on IMDB, so it would go against my nature to associate with someone from that (kidding, kind of). 3. I have not seen, or heard from you, since summer camp 1996, so you might no longer be tall, gorgeous, and sweet.

Yes...I was the cool kid who wore a hat to the camp banquet

I mean, for effs sake Helena, look at you (blurred face notwithstanding), how could I not have fallen in love with you back in the day.  Granted, we only had a few weeks a year to spend together, but perhaps it was the other 49 weeks where I built up the affection I have (I mean, had) for you.  It’s a damn good thing facebook and gchat weren’t around back then, I have a feeling you might have placed some kind of cyber-restraining order against me.  Speaking of which, why the hell are you still not on facebook?  I know you always went against the grain a bit, after all you were a hot girl who was best friends with me, but just give in and create an account, if only to reconnect.

Wait, this is supposed to be a letter to an ex…but you are not really an ex of any sort.  I was simply infatuated with you, and though I’m sure you knew it, it was never discussed.  I was a gangly, incredibly awkward 14 year old with a mouth full of braces (which seems to be a reoccurring theme in these old-school letters), and you were a 15 year old moviestar who looked 20; hence, there was extremely little point in trying to make you my girlfriend for the better part of July.  But honestly, that isn’t really important.

Not to be super cheesy, but what is important the friendship we had.  I did indeed cherish it…back then I thought it was because I got to spend copious amounts of time talking one on one to the hottest girl at camp during rest hours, pool or A’s & C’s (arts & crafts…hey I needed a rest from all the athletics and it was a great place to pick up chicks).  Actually, I just realized the last sentence is entirely true.  I think our friendship gave me a level of confidence with females that I didn’t have prior.  Becoming close and talking all the time with a beautiful female tends to have that effect on me…even if we weren’t making out after talking.  I realize that most of my letters make me appear like an insecure, sarcastic asshole, which is true of course, but I think without you, Helena, I’d be even worse off.

Hope all is well, wherever the hell you are,

Steak (as in, opposite of ‘Chicken’…get it? Of course you do, no one else does though!)

*Wet Hot American Summer


“are we clear?…crystal”

Dear Shannon,

I’m going to try to make this letter as nice as possible, though given the deterioration of whatever it is we had, it might be difficult.  I guess I’ll start with the harshest sentence you’ll read.  I figure it’s easier this way, instead of treating you like a New York Jets fan, where I’m really nice to you at the start, reel you in, and then deliver harsh blow after harsh blow for the remainder of the season, er, letter.  Yet, as always, I digress. Ok, here goes nothing: I want absolutely nothing to do with you for the rest of our respective lives, and I mean that in the nicest way possible.

I mean, really, think about it…what would be the effing point?  Let’s focus on a couple major points: 1. you are engaged to a guy who for some reason feels threatened by me 2. To be honest, I just don’t really have a good time when we socialize.  As per issue #2, it’s not that you are a bad person, because you are quite nice, but for me, ‘nice’ is about the nicest thing I can say about you.   I just think our personalities don’t mix very well.  And issue #1, why the hell would you want me to come to your poker night, or grab dinner with you, when A. you know I’ve been avoiding you for like two years now and B. it would piss your fiancee off.

We went out on one date, ONE DATE!  I realize that after said date, we would hang out every so often, but did you not realize it was just a matter of convenience for both of us?  Both of us were somewhat new to small towns, and because we are both nice people we wanted to help integrate each other into the social pipelines.  Well, from that standpoint, we were quite successful.  Only we ended up in completely separate social circles.  And I’m not here to tell you mine is cooler than yours or anything like that, but they are simply different.  And when I have free time from my own social circle, I want to enjoy some me time (not in that way, get your mind out of the gutter)…hence, not with you and your crew.

At least we have a better relationship that Col. Jessup & Lt. Kaffee...Photo Courtsey of

So, when you would call, or text, or email at first I would come up with an excuse as to why I couldn’t; then after those wore off I started coming up with lame excuses; until finally I just stopped responding whatsoever.  Every time I think I get my point across (like when you don’t contact me after a few weeks), I get some desperate message from you about how you ‘miss me’ and how we ‘never hang out anymore.’ Um, yeah, we haven’t in about four years.  So hopefully this letter seals the deal.

Again, I’m not trying to come off as an asshole…even though I know that is how I sound.  My major point in all this is that everyone our age has pretty busy lives – trying to manage work, in some cases school, friends, significant others, dating, family, all that crap…when we have down time away from all that we should be able to spend it in any way we see fit.  And like I said, hanging out with you is not a good fit for me.  Would it be better if I gave in and we had an awkward, uncomfortable dinner where you realized face to face that I don’t enjoy your company?  I didn’t think so.

Finally, I’d be remiss not to say…as a woman in her upper 20′s facebook status’ that beg for sympathy are simply inexcusable.  Saying crap like, “feeling lonely tonight” is not going to make me want to reach out and grab a drink with you…it makes we want to throw up in my mouth a little, only because I know it’s not genuine.

Clear enough for you?

Crystal I hope.

ps – This is neither here nor there because we both knew we were never going to be an item 10 minutes into our single date, but hooking up with my two best friends within a couple weeks of that date wasn’t the classiest thing to do.


“i guess i’ll cancel that order of onions and limburger cheese I made for lunch today”*

(editor’s note: this is a repost of my first letter. wordpress is apparently finally picking up on my tags so i thought i’d test it out with my favorite letter so far. if you have already read this, sorry).

Dear Margaret,
It’s amazing how one event from childhood can have such enduring consequences for an adult.  If we are talking in terms of the famous “Butterfly Effect,” our almost makeout was the butterfly, and my prolonged inability to deal with members of the opposite sex would be the resulting earthquake in Taipei. I don’t really blame you though.  How could I? If I were you, I definitely would have turned away in disgust at my approaching, slightly parted lips.

There we all were, a cohesive unit of preppy middle schoolers enjoying a sunny afternoon at a local ice-cream parlor on the water.  We were all dressed the same: khakis and an untucked button down with Sambas.  Of course, the button down was probably a bit beat up, perhaps even had holes in it, to show off our rebellious side; or in my case, my obsession with Seattle rock music.  Most ordered ice cream, which took forever because the 87-year-old woman behind the counter would have had a difficult time scooping jello let alone rock hard ice cream. I was stupid enough to order a slice of pizza, frozen Ellios pizza at that.  Little did I know that holding hands with you earlier that day would be the apex of my career with women, and that damned slice of pizza would lead directly to my lowest point.

Minutes later, after giving in to the prodding of my ‘friends,’ I decided our first kiss should be a public show, while we leant awkwardly on our bicycles.  So I looked longingly in your eyes (notice I wasn’t staring at your chest, which for a 7th grader wasn’t half bad if memory serves me correctly), and parted those lips…

Haven’t had a slice since…

Not only did the sun reflect blindingly off my braces, but also was further melting the cheese from the pizza that was firmly lodged throughout the metal. Actually, the sun couldn’t have been THAT blinding, if it had been you probably would have at least let me peck you on the lips. No no, I don’t blame you.  I blame lots of people ranging from my Orthodontist who claimed my braces would only be in for 12-18 months (he was only off by a year) to my friends who triple effing dog dared me to try and kiss you goodbye.  Those a-holes knew the whole time what would happen.  I lean in, you turn away, I kiss air, everyone laughs.  About as predictable as me not laughing at 2.5 Men.

And now here I sit, about 15 years later and every subsequent relationship I’ve had with a female is somehow connected back to you.  I still get nervous at every first kiss, and fifth kiss for that matter; even though my dietary habits (and flossing habits) are far superior than frozen pizza, and even though I now understand the difference between mint waxed and woven.

The other thing about our relationship is that it really never should have happened in the first place; you were way out of my league.  I was playing up at least two divisions.  And today I am still trying to do that.  It’s a lot easier to jump from AA ball to the majors at 13 than it is at 29.

That’s it, for now anyway.  I might send you another letter down the line, see if I’ve learned anything else from you, besides how to floss my teeth. And well, I guess you also showed me what Kasey Kasem meant by, “Keep your feet on the ground, and keep reaching for the stars.”  The only problem is I never really listened to Kasey, except when he hosted the dance-off at the Max that Screech and Lisa won with ‘The Sprain’.  Christ, even Screech had more luck with Lisa than I had with you.

Until Next Time,


* Wet Hot American Summer


that’s like the express lane to the friend zone…what the hell’s the friend zone? *

Dear Cassandra,

We went on a date a couple of weeks and I had a lovely evening…only I’m still not sure it was a date.  I’d like to make this clear in person, or at the very least face to face; wait who am I kidding, no one talks face to face anymore.  I’d like to make this clear via blog/letter (or text message, since you probably won’t read this): I don’t really want to friends.  Really, it’s nothing against you, it’s just that I already have way too many friends.  In fact, I wish I could purge my real friends like I can my facebook friends…unfortunately there is no delete button for life.  Sorry, let me get back to you, and us.

Our first date was about a year ago, it was an awkward date.  We met for a few drinks, had a lame conversation, hugged it out and I thought that would be the end of it.  I’m usually a pretty good conversationalist, and now I know that you are too, but for some reason that night we talked about as well as Brett Favre retires…that is, not very well.  We ran into each other once and had some coffee, and the conversation was slightly better, but I think we were both kind of bored after one mug, and that was it.

I'm not fat + You are as hot as Amy Smart = Perfect couple! Photo courtesy of

I mean, a brief conversation about sports via gchat every once in awhile, but I never thought we’d hang out again.  Then, out of the blue, YOU asked me to meet up for a beer.  I was taken aback, but we had an awesome time!  Granted, we connected over sharing awful date experiences, but we were both laughing and smiling like we’d hit it off.  Again, we hugged it out and promised each other it wouldn’t be ten months before hanging out again.. Ten months, less than ten days later you asked me out to dinner…on an effing Saturday night (ok I guess the day was my choice, but you were totally into it)!  That was a date – we met, I even told you how beautiful you looked, grabbed a drink at a bar, then went to a relatively fancy restaurant (cloth, not paper napkins) and had more great conversation.  Only this time instead about other awful people we dated, we talked about ourselves.  A hug, and a light peck on the cheek later, we went our separate ways.

And I totally might be jumping to conclusions, but based on your wanting to meet up for coffee sometime soon (as opposed to dinner or drinks again), I’m guessing you just want to be friends.  Now let me make something clear: I am not head over heals about you, yet.  I did not get all giddy and call up a dozen friends telling them about some great new girl I went out with.  So I don’t want you thinking I’m on some kind of level you are totally not on.  However, like I said from the beginning…I don’t want to be friends.  If we hang out again, I’d be coming from the angle of trying to see if a romantic type (read: where we get to make out) relationship MIGHT work.  You and I are not headed for the friend zone.  If you aren’t ok with that, I completely understand.  There are lots of reasons you might not want to pursue that kind of relationship with me; none of them are good reasons of course (sarcasm), but that’s cool with me.

Make sense? Good. Sincerely,

Not Fat Ryan Reynolds

* Just Friends (not a great movie, but the quote works)

Letters sent…

December 2012
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