dear you…brought to you by my hormones

Dear MBA advisor dude,

While I realize that your job is to give advice and when I came to talk to you about MBA programs, I was soliciting said advice, I guess I just thought you would ask me a few more questions before throwing me into a box called, “You screwed up your undergrad so badly that you don’t have a snowball’s chance in Hell of getting into a first or second tier MBA program.” Apparently, I was mistaken.

I just wish that I had my wits about me when it all happened. Unfortunately, my emotions were such that I had to use all of my energy to not cry rather than put you in your place, which would not have been difficult.

Here’s the thing. It’s not that I totally disagree with you. Most of those programs are a bit of a long shot. I guess I just thought you might ask me more than what my GPA and my GMAT score were before coming to such a conclusion. I mean, did you even listen to another word I said? My guess would be no.

And then to suggest, after I stated implicitly that I want to go into retail marketing and branding, that I consider HR. Seriously? HR? Did you throw me into that category because I am a woman? Because I work for a university? I am all for people who are interested in HR, but considering I told you what I am interested in and it wasn’t HR and you obviously didn’t care, I thought it best to end our conversation and any further interaction at that point.

Thank you for bringing me back to reality. I mean, a good GMAT score is not everything. But then there are all of my professional accomplishments. Wait, what’s that thought I hear in your head? “What professional accomplishments?” you ask. “You are an office manager in one of hundreds of offices at a university.” See, if you had only asked a few questions, you would have known that there’s so much more to me than my GPA and my GMAT score.

But you didn’t. I was happy to see how effectively and efficiently you got through your own agenda, though. Fascinating. Truly fascinating.


A girl who may not get into the MBA program of her choice, but who will also know that it wasn’t for lack of trying

Dear Stephenie Meyer,

I really like your books, but I am conflicted. I guess if you are just being true to what the characters would do, then such is life. I just find myself really not liking Edward and Bella’s relationship. I mean, Edward is dreamy, but really must there relationship always feel so out of control, so juvenile, so lustful, so intense. I know there’s more to it than that and I am definitely bringing my own baggage to this one, but I find myself really unsure of who I want Bella to end up with, not because Edward isn’t good enough, but because she’s just so freakin’ immature. And on that note, I don’t know that I really want her with Jake either. In fact, I kind of wish both Edward and Jake would each find someone else. At the same time, I don’t want Bella to get hurt either. Wow, I have really been sucked into this little world.

Very much conflicted,


Dear dishes,

Why is it that, even though I know that once I start washing you I will actually enjoy it, it takes me so long to get started? I mean, I have fabulous cleaning gloves that I love, and a sponge holder that keeps my sponge from getting gross super fast, really hot water and a great drying wrack. I actually enjoy not having a dishwasher…but why can’t I feel that before I start doing the dishes.

My apologies,

The girl who rinses you and then lets you sit there for a while before washing you

Dear 18-year-old self,

Do you remember when you started college and it was a lot harder than high school and you weren’t the straight-A cheerleader anymore? That sucked. But why couldn’t you just get over those bad grades and move on? Yes, you had a lot on your plate, but who doesn’t?

The good news, I still think you’re fabulous…and despite the bad grades, I believe that we will go to grad school wherever we are meant to go, be it Paris, New York, Texas or even Provo. Even with the occasional lack in judgment, things always work out in the end. I guess I’m not so upset. Besides, I have to be grateful for all of that skiing we got in, the many hours spent in good conversation with good people when we could have been studying something much less meaningful than our relationships.

Okay, so maybe you just realized there was more to life than good grades.

Thank you,

Your older, perhaps wiser, definitely better styled, made-up and coiffed self

Dear laundry,

I wash you and dry dry you. I lovingly remove stains. I make sure that that part of you that doesn’t like hot water or the dryer gets taken care of. So, why must I also be the one to fold you and put you away? I’m sick of it. I cannot deal with your crap anymore. You never help me. You just lie around, lazy and worry free, not a thought for your wrinkles or how often you get thrown in and out of the basket, on and off of the LoveSac. I am done. You disgust me.


A clothes whore with a broken heart

Dear Donna Lewis,

Perhaps you were just a one-hit-wonder to most people, but not to me. You wrote some great lyrics…okay, perhaps a bit cheezy, but great nonetheless. I had forgotten, until yesterday, just how much I love your songs. Maybe the tunes are a little, well, immature, but I will always be a fan.

With much emotion (most of it induced by a combination of your music in the background),


Dear ankles,

Thank you for being so thin and delicate and looking so great in the fabulous heals and tea-length pencil skirt I was wearing today. Being that I am still suffering from hormonal mood swings, it was nice to look at myself in the mirror today and feel so content with you. Oh, and thanks for putting up with all of the miles I’ve been running over the past few months. You are really the best.


The girl who promises to start cross training once this marathon is over

Dear Mom,

Thank you for teaching me so many great lessons, like that blasting music (in your case, Neil Diamond) while driving with your windows down really can make you feel better. Or that a new pair of shoes is always a better idea than eating junk food when PMS-ing (I really wish that your feet hadn’t been so little, because seriously your shoe collection would be so great to have now). Or that you are always better off to try and fail than to not try at all, because if you don’t try, you’ve already failed. And, the lesson that lives with me daily, “It always works out”.


Your bawl baby daughter (the youngest one…in case you thought maybe I was Erika, since she likes to cry, too)

Dear Patience,

I really wish that you would visit me a little more often, although I think you’ve done a nice job this week. I am learning, slowly, to not brush you off. Please don’t be offended when I do. I really want you to come and visit, it’s just that I’m not used to you being around.


The Queen of Impatience

8 thoughts on “dear you…brought to you by my hormones

  1. Dear Thom,Like there’s an “h” in your name, so is there in mine. 😉 I am fantastic…and so are you. I know the counselor is a moron. My mom was brilliant, even if she was a bit crazy…most brilliant people are. My 18-year-old self did get things mostly right…although her fashion sense could have used some help. And lastly, I have learned to never pray to be more anything…I just let the Lord make those decisions on his own. If I need something, he gives it to me, but at least I don’t have to blame myself for it. (Okay, that’s not entirely true…there’s this element of my soul, buried very, very, very deep within, that actually wants to become what God wants me to become…I blame that part of me for most of my trials).Sincerely,The sane part of me that has returned.

  2. Dear Cloe,You are fantastic. You have so many good thoughts. You should know that Grad School Counselors are morons and you can do what ever you want. Your mother’s wise council is correct that it will work out. Your 18 year-old self did it right, most of the time. Dishes and laundry are over-rated. Finally, what ever you do, don’t pray for patience because then the Lord will do His best to put you in a situation to LEARN IT.Yours Truly,Someone the Lord thinks continually needs to learn Patience.

  3. Hey! I don’t cry…much. Just only occasionally. OK, fine. I’m the biggest cry-baby on the planet, but did you have to make it public? (not that the world doesn’t already know, having seen plenty of evidence on its own.)Anyway, how can you listen to Neil Diamond (or even Donna Summer) and NOT turn into a pile of mush.

  4. OOH Chole- Nicely said. you are so awesome! I am right there with you about Bella and Edward- I have to not look at the books for awhile beacuse I want to pick them up and read them again. Anyways you are the best!

  5. You’re a hoot! I couldn’t agree more on the patience letter tho…think I need to write my patience a letter too.

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