Category Archives: dear you

dear you…inspired by my trip to SF

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Dear nice guy who sat next to me on my flight from SLC to OAK,

Normally, I’m not a huge fan of talking on planes. I like my “alone” time, which is why I always get a window seat and why I generally look away from anyone who sits next to me. I just like to read my books, listen to my music, do my thing. But you were so nice and so friendly and I really enjoyed talking to you, so much so that I thought twice about keeping to myself on my flight home. And you told such good stories and made me feel so good about being 29 and single. Thanks for a great conversation. And, because we started talking before the plane was entirely boarded, no one sat between us, which meant I had more leg room. It was fantastic!

Sincerely,

Your row mate

Dear Happy Donuts,

Thank you for being open 24 hours so that, when Erika picked me up late and I didn’t get to go to Fenton’s, I was still able to enjoy a delicious treat. (Erika, I know it wasn’t your fault). Your donuts were delicious. And it was so fun to see all of the random people in a donut shop at 11:00 pm on a Thursday. It was fun to imagine who they were and what their lives were like, especially the table of guys speaking French. Why is it that any guy speaking French can make me weak in the knees? Especially when he’s native? So hot!

Back to you, Happy Donuts. I was so grateful, but then I just craved you. I couldn’t stop thinking of you. It was bad. Maybe 24 hours isn’t such a good idea. And when I’m cursing you on Thursday, remember that I don’t really mean it.

Missing you dearly,

Chloe

Dear Bay Area,

Why must you really be the perfect place to live? Why must all of the housing options be so expensive? Why must your climate make me so happy? Why does your air smell sweeter and your sun shine more beautifully than any place on earth (except maybe Tuscany…but I don’t speak Italian, so I’m not planning on moving there)? Why do you have to make me hate where I live every time I visit you? Why does my heart flutter at just the thought of your two beautiful bridges? Why? Why? Why? Why? Everything is better in San Francisco. Everything!

I’m sad.

Chloe

Dear guys who still travel in threes in their mid-thirties,

Really? You are how old? I was reminded of Draco Malfoy and his two sidekicks. Two less attractive, not as intelligent side kicks. Here’s the thing…Mr. Frontman is generally attractive and charismatic, but you two wingmen…not so much. That’s not to say that I wouldn’t be attracted to you, except that the fact that you are all about being a wingman makes you so not appealing. Do you just hang out, hoping to get Frontman’s toss-offs? Do you think that hanging out with Frontman makes you more appealing? Do you realize just how reminiscent of high school your little posse appears? Could you please just grow up already? I’m sure you are very nice, but don’t you get tired of all the girls going for Frontman? Don’t you want girls that want you? I so wish I understood. Can someone help me to understand? Please.

Sincerely,

A girl who, while somewhat socially inept in large groups, at least tries to appear approachable

Dear MBA grad who went to my first choice school,

If I got nothing else out of this weekend other than my conversation with you it was totally worth it. Thanks for being so honest about your experience at said school. It has given me a lot to think about. I have totally revamped my choices as a result of our conversation and the thoughts you shared. I’m still applying to choice number 1, but if I get in (and it’s possible I won’t, although you also made me feel better about that), I will think long and hard before I make my choice. And you were attractive and so interesting to talk to…if only you hadn’t been in your 40s…I just can’t bridge two decades.

Sincerely,

A prospective MBA student who appreciates any insight from an experienced source

Dear Palo Alto,

It’s really too bad that Stanford is so very selective and that recruiters don’t like it, or I might consider applying and I might get in. As it stands, I am not applying and will not, therefore, get rejected. But if you had a different school, oh how I would love to live in your beautiful city. Such a great place. Such beautiful homes, old money homes. Such a large population of brilliant minds. Such beautiful green hills. Oh how I do love you! Perhaps someday. Although, let’s be honest. If I end up back in California (which I hope to) I will probably be working in SF and living there, as well, since it’s about the same cost of living. But, if you had a school I wanted to attend and could get into, I would do it. In a heartbeat. As it is, I’ll be applying to the school across the bay, and I like that town, too.

Sincerely,

A girl who really messed up her undergrad

Dear guy from Las Vegas,

Just a little thought…Desperation does not smell good.

Chloe

Dear Shannon Hale,

Thanks for writing such a great book. It was a bit of a slow start, but I loved it. So cute. So romantic. So sweet and clean. Just the way a fairytale should be. And it was so well written…I have discovered some new favorite quotes and that is a big deal.

Sincerely,

A hopeless romantic

Dear Chloe,

Remember that even though this weekend was less than ideal and you seem to have no prospects, you are so glad that you aren’t married. You made the right choice. Sure, life isn’t going to be a fairytale, but you deserve to fall in love with someone wonderful, who makes you feel good about yourself and doesn’t make you defend your feelings/thoughts/decisions all the time, and someone who makes you laugh and can have a great conversation and shares a mutual attraction. And if your story could turn out just a bit like a good book, that would be nice, too…although you don’t need to hold out for that if you meet Mr. Perfect For You. And don’t get so set on your plans and goals that you aren’t willing to shift just a bit.

Sincerely,

Yourself

dear you…brought to you by my hormones

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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.

Sincerely,

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,

Chloe

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.

Sincerely,

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),

Chloe

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.

Sincerely,

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”.

Love,

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.

Sincerely,

The Queen of Impatience

dear you…inspired by true movies

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If any of the trailers don’t show up, try refreshing the page. Apparently, they’re a little shy at times. Also, be warned (thanks Adriane for the comment), some of the trailers may give away a lot of the movie.

Dear Becoming Jane,

Whoever decided that a woman in her mid-thirties should look like an old maid on her death bed is an idiot. You were a great movie. Sad, but great. I loved so many things about you. But really, that last scene almost killed you. You just needed to fire whoever was calling the shots on Anne Hathaway’s makeup. I realize that Jane Austen didn’t have the many, many anti-aging methods now available, but really, there is no way she looked like that. I mean, her sister-in-law was older than she was and didn’t look so old. Were you trying to send a message that married people age better than single people? Were you trying to make me dread my thirties? Help me understand what you would allow such a travesty to happen.

With much sadness and fear for my future,

Chloe

Dear mother who thought bringing her 1-year-old to see Bourne Supremacy in the theater was a good idea,

Why would you ever think that was a good idea? First, it’s totally inconsiderate. If you can’t find a babysitter, don’t go to the movie. Or go see Shrek 3. Or wait until you can find a sitter. Or wait until the movie comes out of video.

If it was only for my comfort, I would not be writing this letter. However, that is not my only concern, nor is it my greatest. I don’t know if you realize this, but the decibel level in movie theaters can and will seriously damage your poor child’s ears. It’s one thing for us, as adults, to subject ourselves to the ear-damaging sound in the theater, it is quite another to inflict it on an infant. Especially since infants’ ears are so much more sensitive, and thus, more easily damaged.

My final concern is similar to the second. Do you really want to expose your baby to all of that violence as a baby? I mean, really. Do you think just because your baby can’t talk that he can’t be damaged by all of it?

I realize that I don’t have children and so, may not understand how hard it is to forgo my desires for my baby’s health and well-being. But I’m pretty sure that I will think about those things before getting myself pregnant. Maybe you should have, as well.

With much concern,

A single girl who wonders why you get to be a mother right now and she doesn’t

Dear High School Musical 2,

While I fully expected cheese and was very entertained by it, and you have provided me with a fantastic new “breakup song”, I do have limits and those limits start with fake shooting stars, followed closely by singing reflections in a pond, and end with lanterns that mysteriously float away, when nothing about the movie contains any other “magic”. Oh, and I can’t neglect to mention the fireworks. Seriously, you need to fire your special effects people if that’s what they are producing. Or your writers, if that’s what they wrote into the script. Or whoever made the decision not leave those bits of film on the cutting room floor.

With much embarrassment (for you and me),

A closet fan

Dear Hairspray,

Thank you! I love you! I wasn’t sure what I thought about John Travolta, but he was divine, as were all of the other actors. I even liked Amanda Bynes. All of it was amazing…okay, maybe the singing picture of Tracy was a bit much, but you’re a musical, so I guess it’s to be expected. Oh, and excellent choice with Christopher Walken. As Sarah put it, “he’s hilarious and terrifying all at the same time.” I can’t say enough about you. You are a new favorite. Okay, so maybe I wouldn’t have chosen Michelle Pfeiffer. I mean, she’s kind of fake looking and really, her singing voice is not my favorite. And even that’s forgivable. I mean, the audience is supposed to hate her, and I did. You are really and truly brilliant. Perfectly delightful!

With much love,

A huge fan (not huge like Edna Turnblad, but huge in the sense that I really love you and sing your praises)

Dear Stardust,

Thank you for being such a perfect movie. You have everything, laughter, adventure and romance. You will be the next DVD I purchase now that I have a budget. You are The Princess Bride for my generation. Okay, so The Princess Bride was The Princess Bride for my generation. But you are fantastic just the same.

I do have to say that I am truly grateful that the first time I saw you there were no crazy hyenas in the audience. I wonder if that woman knew she sounded like a crazy fool. Hmm? Anyway, even with the loud and inappropriately timed laughter, I liked you even more the second time. Robert De Niro was perfect for his role. And that Charlie Cox…delicious!

With many smiles,

A huge fan of the truly romantic comedy

dear you…the diet coke withdrawal letters

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Dear Diet Coke,

You are so good. Absolutely delicious. I never imagined that I would need to leave you. But this week, something weird happened. I got home Monday night and my legs were all swollen. To the point of causing me pain. My ankles, which are normally abnormally thin and delicate, had become kankles. I didn’t understand what was happening. Then I thought about the many, many ounces of you I had consumed that day. I didn’t want to believe it, but on Tuesday, after not drinking you all morning, I decided to see if you were the cause. I went to Sonic and purchased 44 ounces of your delicious goodness. I drank. I swelled. I cried. I knew our relationship had to end. Why do you have to cause me such problems? When will I be able to taste your sweet nectar again? Why’d you have to do me like that? And why, oh why, do I have to suffer such horrible headaches in your absence?

With mixed emotions,

Chloe

Dear GMAT,

I am actually starting to get excited to take you. I think it will be fun to see just how well I can do. Please don’t let me down. I really want a higher score than my instructor and I’m going to need your help to do it. I changed my plans for you. I rescheduled my trip for California to a few weeks later. I will be taking you on the Saturday of my Labor Day weekend, meaning that I will spend Labor Day morning running 18 miles so I can keep on my running schedule. Oh, dearest GMAT, please don’t let me down. Give me reading comprehension that I understand already and geometry problems that center on triangles. I love triangles. I hate circles. Please leave the circles home. Oh, and I’d prefer to not deal with negative exponents, but if negative exponents mean that I’m doing extremely well, then I will survive. And cube roots, I don’t need those so much either. Is all of this too much to ask? Is there something I can do for you? Just let me know.

With high hopes,

A future business leader of America

Dear Sweet Tooth,

I have to tell you that I am less than happy about your recent need to vocalize your desires. You have been so very kind and helpful these last eight weeks. You have kept your mouth shut and left me alone. Even through PMS, you were too awful. So what the hell happened. Why now? Why this week? What did I do to you? I try to give you treats now and then to keep you quiet. I go to Cold Stone and order the Sinless Sweet Cream, so that you aren’t totally deprived of ice cream. Why now? Why, when things have been going so well? Why must you whisper tales of ice cream and donuts and orange rolls into my ear? Why can’t you just shut up? Is it really that difficult?

With much disdain,

A girl who wishes you were mute and she was deaf

Dear Costco,

Why do you have to be so fun to walk around? Why can’t you be less tempting? After dinner with Amanda last night, I could have just gone home. But then she said she was going to Costco and I couldn’t help myself. I had to go. While it was worth it for the gas, I did not need to purchase Harry Potter. My goal was to make it through the GMAT without owning that darn book. I don’t have time to read it. But there it was, sitting at the end of the book aisle, with a super low price and I just couldn’t resist. I purchased it. I couldn’t afford it, in terms of time or money, but I did it. Something about your lovely warehouse prices lulls me into a false sense of security. I think to myself, “It’s Costco. Of course it’s a good purchase.” Why must you be so tempting?

Sincerely,

A way too busy girl who will now be getting even less sleep

Dear clean clothes,

Why can’t you just fold yourselves? I’m sick of you and your stupid pile on my makeshift daybed/couch. I wish you would just go away (you know, away, into the closet, hung up and all).

With much frustration,

An anti-laundry folder

Dear Wrinkle Releaser,

Thank you. I know my mom would die…again (and I hope that doesn’t offend any of you out there, but this is what really comes out of my head), if she saw the state of my clothes sometimes when I walk out the door. But without you, it would be so much worse. Thank you for enabling my bad laundry folding/hanging habits. You are my hero.

Happily,

A girl who hasn’t ironed in over three months

Dear body,

You’ve enjoyed a break this last week. You haven’t been deprived of any of your favorite treats (well, not until you decided to let the Diet Coke make you retain inordinate amounts of water). I haven’t made you run since Saturday. You have gotten more sleep this week than you have in months. I hope you have enjoyed it because things are about to change. It all ends today. After I have a little movie popcorn at the theater tonight. But once I go to bed tonight, consider yourself back in training. I know. I know. You think I’m horribly mean. But trust me, as much as you hate me for this training and deprivation, you would hate me more without it because we are running that marathon whether we like it or not. You will have a small taste of what laziness does on Saturday when we are running 10 miles, in Arizona.

With much love,

Your owner who really doesn’t want you to die while running 26.2 miles in October

to whom it may concern:

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Dear FM 100,

My name is Chloe and I am stuck (yes, stuck) listening to your station all day, every work day. My employer chooses what station we are able to listen to and we can either listen to you or listen to nothing. Some days we (my staff and I) honestly choose nothing.

Now, it’s not that I mind most of the music you play (and no one ever likes every song on every radio station), but your music sets are way too short. There have been days when I hear the same song three times in eight hours, and that is just ridiculous.

Not only that, but songs will play at about the same time for days in a row. We paid attention one week and “Chasing Cars” played at approximately the same time for four days in a row…twice a day.

You say that you have “the most variety”, and if you’re only talking about variety as in, from different decades, ok. If you mean variety as in songs, you are lying. The variety stinks. If I had the option, I would never listen to your station. I don’t have that option, unfortunately, because I am not the only person in the office. I don’t want to hate you, I promise, but I do.

Please help me out. Just change things up a bit more. It would be super if I didn’t have to hear Celine Dion croon “My Heart Will Go On” every single day of my working existence. I would love it if you really would make it “the station with the most variety”…and if you’d stop playing “Chasing Cars” two to three times a day, always between 15 and 30 after the hour. Seriously.

Sincerely,

A very disloyal listener

p.s. This one was a real letter, that I really sent, to the real radio station…I finally had enough yesterday. Bill West emailed me back and said they’d work on it. Sure they will.

Dear body,

I realize that you are probably not super happy about the recent obsession with running and restriction of treats. However, you need to know that your counterattack is not appreciated. You could have at least tried talking to me before producing massive amounts of estrogen, causing me to be snappy, moody and ravenous. You have not attacked me like this for years…literally. Don’t you realize that this is not the only way to handle things? Don’t you realize that the consumption of sweet, baked goods that occurred yesterday will only result in more running, not less?

And if you had to attack so forcefully, did it have to be something that negatively impacted so many other people? I mean, you could have kept the casualties to a minimum, but instead the list goes from my sweet friends who so kindly put up with me because they at least know that I’m not always like this, to every woman who was in church this Sunday while I was conducting our meeting, and further to my kindhearted employees who have no idea what’s going on since they’ve never seen me like this before.

In the future, could we just stick with things like the stomach flu or knee pain. I mean really, hormones? That’s just low.

Thank you,

Your owner

Dear bangs,

I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to cut you so short. I know that I shouldn’t ever cut you, that I should save that job for my fabulous stylist. But really, Sunday morning I just couldn’t deal with you. You were laying the wrong way and in my face. I couldn’t see. I’m sorry. I lost it. Before I could stop myself, I was standing at the mirror with scissors in my hand.

The good news is you grow quickly, so we should be able to get you fixed in a matter of weeks, maybe even in time for our trip to Arizona. If not then, definitely by our trip to D.C. I hope you will be able to forgive me. Although, by the way you looked this morning, I’m guessing it might take a while.

Sorry,

The girl who didn’t have enough patience to re-wet and re-dry you

Dear Aaron, my ever faithful GMAT course instructor,

You are brilliant. I seriously feel like the little tips you shared last night will add 20 points to my verbal score. I need to ask you a favor, though. Can you please, please, please stop using the word “pagination”? Really, it was fine the first ten times you said it, the first night of the course, but at this point, it’s just irritating. Why can’t you just say, “my page numbers are off”? Why does it have to be, “my pagination is not the same as yours” or “this is an old book and the pagination is off”? I mean, I realize that it doesn’t sound as intelligent and I realize that pagination is a real word, but must you use it five times every hour?

Sincerely,

Your very grateful, but extremely irritated student

Dear Utah,

Thank you for recognizing Pioneer Day as a state holiday. This gave me the opportunity to sleep in this morning, and now to avoid all people all day if needs be. I can feel myself getting back to normal, so tomorrow should be better.

With immense gratitude,

A current resident

Dear friends, family and stalkers,

Thank you for putting up with my sassiness during these trying times. Thank you for laughing with me, rather than at me. Thank you for your encouraging words and your patience. Thank you for understanding that sometimes it’s better to just leave me alone for a bit. Thank you for not asking me why I’m tearing up while watching Rumor Has It. I am truly a very lucky girl to have such great people in my life. I promise to be back to my sweet, kind, normal self soon (Erika, now would not be a good time to argue that point).

Love,

Chloe