Posts Tagged ‘girlfriends

02
Feb
11

dear alabama & clarence,

Before I delve into the beauty of this final scene, first let me thank you for allowing me the opportunity to figure out how to embed a youtube clip with a specific start time. While not exactly complicated, I never really needed to before. But with this clip, I decided it best to start halfway through, no real reason to force people to view an extreme close up of a bloody eye and what not. Alas, if people really want to watch that part they can always move the cursor backwards a bit.

Anyhoo…let’s be clear about a few things: even though I am using this scene I do not A. want to be shot in the eye B. be chased by the mafia or C. marry a call girl. Yes, even a call girl as badass and sexy as you, Alabama. Something tells me the inevitable meeting of the (my jewish & slightly JAPpy) parents would be just too awkward. What I do know is that I want to ride off into the sunset with someone that badass, and that sexy, and preferably with music that effing sweet playing in the background. Oh, I also want someone (a female someone) to think I am so cool, so cool, so cool…

And as cheesy as this sounds, I think the real beauty of this scene lies in the solitude of the small family in the beach on the end. Do they not seem completely content with simply each other? Actually, ‘content’ is probably not a strong enough word…lets use the word ‘happy’ instead. I know it’s bland & generic, but it also really gets the point across. I am not ready for a wife and kids, yet, but I guess what I am ready for is the thought of a family. I want to go through the normal process (as in, not getting married the morning after meeting a female in a movie theater on my birthday, who then turns out to have been a hooker for four days, going to kill her pimp, stealing a bunch of drugs yada yada yada); I want to date a intelligent, funny, beautiful woman; I want to fall in love and propose, and have an amazing wedding on the beach at my parents house (yes, mom & dad, you dont need to start preparing the house quite yet), then have a kid or two. But like I said, I am not ready for all of that quite yet…for now, I just want a girl to think I’m cool.

Wow, I had no idea I was going to get that heavy from that scene…It is an amazing clip, and movie, though. I guess it deserves something a bit emotional. I think I might even pop in the bluray…

QT

ps – Note to the future Mrs. Dearexgirlfriend, I’m not naming our kid Elvis.

09
Dec
10

“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,

Ellio

* Wet Hot American Summer

02
Dec
10

you don’t want to be named as anybody’s girlfriend, and now you’re someone’s wife? *

Dear Margaret (x 2),

Sorry for bothering you again, as if my first letter to you wasn’t enough.  But I just caught wind of the fact that you are now engaged, of course I heard it via facebook.  I figure as your first boyfriend I deserved you flying to me and at least telling me face to face.  Ok, a phone call? Then again I guess if you had a list of people to call directly about your great news, I would rank somewhere between 87th and 1,060th, so I understand.

 

We were never really this happy anyway...Photo Courtesy of NYTimes

 

 

Let’s get the obvious out of the way first – congratulations.  I mean that from the bottom of my heart.  You were my first ‘girlfriend,’ so it’s not as if I hold some grudge that goes back 15 years.  We were friends throughout high school, and have kept in touch just enough for me to know that you deserve all the happiness that has come to you recently, and is coming your way in the future.  That’s really it…and yes I realize the quote doesn’t exactly fit – since it wasn’t the label of girlfriend you didn’t like, it was more about me trying to kiss you with cheese in my braces; and you aren’t someone’s wife quite yet.  You will be though, soon, and I couldn’t be happier for you.

Though I guess I do regret I never actually got to kiss you,

If you invite me, please place me next to some hot bridesmaids…

Ellio

* 500 Days of Summer

04
Nov
10

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

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,

Ellio

* Wet Hot American Summer




Letters sent…

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