“How do you tell someone it’s over? You send them a notarized letter, right? Well, what if the recipient is your notary?”
Or, what if the recipient doesn’t have a mailbox on campus?
I shall explain.
She, the recipient, said to me, “Aww, is this our first fight?”
Yeah, I agree. What a horrendous thing to say to me. ‘Aww’ and ‘first
fight’?!?! An expression of endearment followed by an indication that more disputes with her are to come my way?! I don’t think so.
She, the recipient, works part-time at the school where I work. She found out where my office is a little over a month ago. And she continued to find my office on a daily basis, telling me that we have irrefutably bonded.
Her word, not mine. Her statement is also untrue. Just absurdity all around. I finally dropped major hint bombs on her: “I have to work.” “I’m at work.” “I really should get back to work.” “I don’t eat meat. Stop offering me hot dogs.”
(End-of-the-year hotdogs were being provided by the school.) “Haha. I get it, you’re trying to kick me out.”
That’s what she said. “Haha.”
Yup. You know.
I have to end this.
This is not him.
I met a boy yesterday at a baby shower. A grown-up boy, not a baby boy. He’s older than I am, probably. And I’m a woman.
We were the 2 best-looking people there. So it was really natural for us to automatically gravitate towards each other. No. We were the only 2 there without friends. Not really. He had a friend. I was the only one without a friend. There, okay. I was neither one of the 2 best-looking people there nor did I have any friends.
He wrote me a love letter this morning:
I sit here, lost in the memory of you. What is today? I don't know. What is it I'm supposed to be doing now? I can't remember. It couldn't have been very important. Thoughts of yesterday still fill my mind and heart. Nothing else seems worth my time and effort. Where am I? Well, not here in this confined space, not really. I'm still lost in everything I felt when we met.
You must know I can't stand being away from you much longer. I hope you feel the same way. Whitney, tell me when can I see you again!
Absolutely not. But I did find the above love letter sample online
Here’s the real thing:
From: Grown-up Boy <firstname.lastname@example.org>
To: Whitney Soup <email@example.com>
Sent: Monday, April 22, 2013 8:42 AM
Good meeting you, Whitney. Hope you had a safe trip back, and that you zip through those classes and the grad school applications and get into the place you like.
Ok, see you in Boston sometime, or down here if you're in town.*
My love letter:
Dear Grown-up Boy,
Why is it, do you think, that we were not in fact the 2 best-looking attendees of yesterday’s baby shower?
Okay, Okay, I’ll stop.
From: Whitney Soup <firstname.lastname@example.org>
To: Grown-up Boy <email@example.com>
Sent: Monday, April 22, 2013 1:31 PM
Subject: Re: Hi
Hey. You missed out on all of the fun after you left. We played a game guessing [pregnant friend]'s answers to questions like 'does she prefer coffee or tea', 'dresses or skirts', 'vacations in the snow or at the beach'. Then it got really cold and we moved the party and the presents inside. I hope wherever you went to was worth it.
My classes don't start until the summer, so I should probably make another trip to NY before then. And yes, let me know if you're ever in Boston. You can help me find something to do here.
● Is there a love connection here?
● Will he write back?
● Do you think he likes me?
Comments are open.
*The baby shower was in New York, and I reside in the great American city, Boston, also known as, “the worst place in the world.”**
**“Boston is the worst place in the world.” -Whitney Soup
(This may or may not be what I really look like now.)
Just got back from the doc's office for a check-up. Medical Doctor:
You've gained weight.Me:
I think your scale's broken.Medical Doctor:
Really? I didn't reali--Me:
Do you have a history of thyroid problems in your family?Me:
I don't have a disease!Medical Doctor:
Okay. How did this happen? Did you do this on purpose?Me:
Of course not! I would never do this on purpose. I was rejected from graduate school
and then ate some of my feelings.Medical Doctor:
gain anymore weight.
no no no no no, wait, are you serious????? FUCK
I'm shocked. Honestly, shocked.
You got to be kidding me.
Did they say why?
If you dont want to talk about it I understand but Im fucking disgusted right now. They are the dumbest motherfuckers alive. Fucking idiots.
Obvious next step: Have my eloquent writer friend write me a letter of recommendation to my next school.
First, they take away our Happy Hour.
Then they ban me from ordering wine online.
1/30/2013 3:35 PMTo:
Shipping to Massachusetts
The State of Massachusetts does not allow wine shipments from other states.
257 West 116th St.
NY, NY 10026
Open 7 days 1 pm to 10 pm
On Jan 30, 2013, at 3:39 PM, Ms. Soup <firstname.lastname@example.org> wrote:
Ugh - another reason to move back to NY.
Sent from my Windows Phone
The Winery <email@example.com>To:
Ms. Soup <firstname.lastname@example.org> Sent:
Wednesday, January 30, 2013 3:50 PMSubject:
Re: Shipping to Massachusetts
We feel your pain.
All the best,
257 West 116th St.
NY, NY 10026
Open 7 days 1 pm to 10 pm
And now we've been banned from driving.
(click on excerpt to enlarge)
If we don't comply, they'll fine us! $500!
* * * *
Look how cute Nemo is in New York.
I played Classic Hooky yesterday. Thought I'd spend the day putting in some Me Time. That led me to good ole Target. Where I bought me a juicer. Then I bought the following ingredients to juice:
Juiced them. Broke the juicer / Juicer broke on its own. Rinsed out juicer. Re-boxed juicer. Scotch-taped lid down because re-boxing is an impossible thing to do. Went back to Target to return juicer. Returned home. Ate a Celeste pizza for one. Felt like a queen.
Story's not over. Still had 2 bottles of juice left undrank. Drank them this morning before work. Got sick on the way to work. Almost vomited when I got to work. An hour before my performance review meeting with my supervisor. Meeting happened. Still feel sick. Filled with regret. And juice, because I never vomited.
Currently not enjoying my lunch as much as I could be.
- Number One.) Working where I work. For a bunch of dysfunctionals at an adult nursery. (For a bunch of professors at a graduate school of education.)
- Number Two.) Nope. That's it. I'm perfect otherwise.
I'll paint a picture for you, called, A Day in the Life at the Adult Nursery a.k.a. the Graduate School of Education
To my left, I hear, "Have you seen Tom Brady's house? I mean, who needs a house like that? He's so full of himself."
To my right, "My teenage son is smoking MARIJUANA!" Sobs and Cries. Repeats.
Right in front of me, a graduate student whom I'm very not attracted to, "So tell me about yourself." I answer, "I've worked here since...blah blah blah." He goes, "No, I mean, what about your social life?" I tell him, "I have friends." Later, he asks, "Are you engaged?" While pointing to the ring on my middle finger. I reply, "No. Have a great semester." He says, with confidence, "I'll be stopping by [absolutely unnecessarily] every so often."
Some psychotic woman escaped from a mental hospital this morning, busted open my office door, and said to me, while pointing her finger, “You’re unfriendly, and cold. I know this because I’m a friendly and open person.”
I said back, “I’m the friendliest effing person you’ve ever met.”
JAY KAY! She wasn’t just “some psychotic woman.” She’s one of the professors I work for.
JK #2: Being the unfriendly and cold person that I am, what I actually said, was, “Would you like to schedule a time to discuss this?”
(click on photo to enlarge)
ME: Hi, can I have the veggie melt? But without the roasted red peppers... or the onions. Or the tomatoes.
I just want the spinach. And the cheese... and the bread.
CHEESEBOY GIRL: You want a Make Your Own.
She does not laugh back.
CHEESEBOY GIRL: Would you like chips or soup with that?
ME: I'll have a Vitaminwater.