Dear...

Dear Virginity,

Remember me?  It's been awhile, I know.  Anyway, just thought I'd drop in to see how you were doing, check what you've been up to these past five or six years.  How's the love life?  Kidding ;)

I know I've written about you before, both in my blog and in my school paper, but I've never really written to you, which I guess is the point of this whole letter-writing thing.  Anyway, it must be nice, or at least make you feel damn important, to be such a milestone in people's lives.  You can really make or break a person.  Depending on how long we hold onto you is the deciding factor on what makes us conservative or slutty or, how do I say this, a contestant on Beauty and the Geek or The Pick-up Artist.

I don't think there are two losing-your-virginity stories that are exactly the same, which is quite a testament to your versatility.  You're like a hormonally-charged snowflake.  I guess I should take a second to thank you for allowing me to lose you in the way I did, when I did, and to who I did.  It helps that he's still one of my most trusted friends.  And still a good kisser.  And still gives me a back rub every time we hang out.  Yep, thanks for picking me a good one.

Now, I don't know if you're like Santa and there's just one of you that goes around to all the kiddies of the world, or if there's a bajillion of you assigned to each individual person on earth.  But in case there is just one of you, or in case you all hang out together and have poker nights on Wednesdays after hitting the Old Country Buffet, try to hang on to kid's today a tiny bit longer.  I hate the fact that there are fourteen and fifteen year olds out there dry humping the shit out of each other.  You may put the Maury show out of business but whatever.

Alright, I know I had more questions for you but it's kinda Christmas morning and I kinda have to go open some presents.  Merry Christmas Virginity, miss you.  Actually, no, no I don't.

Sincerely,

Me

Dear...

Dear Rommy, Rommster, Rommhead,

I've said it before and I'll say it again; you were college for me.  Never in my life did I think I would be lucky enough to meet someone in the beginning of my freshman year at Muhlenberg, this curly-haired, hysterical, heart-warming girl that lived just a few doors down, that would be one of the most important friends and people in my life.  And in true form of our relationship, I'm trying not to cry as I write this.  And I'm watching a reality show on TV.  And I'm sure you are too.  LHF.

Honestly though, there are the people you physically grow up with all your life, and then there are the people you mentally grow with throughout the four years of college that change every aspect of your being and make you who you are.  You were there for every tear, every laugh, every paper, concert, heartbreak, Dunkin trip, every mango rum and coke.  Every moment we thought we were falling in love with someone and the rare moments when we realized we actually were in love.  

You can read me just like I can read you.  Even during the extremely sparse moments when we were angry with each other, there was no way we wouldn't get through it because you only  get one true rommy in this life.  Recap of the last four year anyone?  Yes please.

Freshman year: Apple juice, Carlton dance, "Drives", El-Lo, You walking into my room without knocking and climbing straight into my bed, Skipping class to sit under Victor, Tip/Babs.

Sophomore year: T-Geigs, Topless Tuesday/Pantsfree Friday/Naked Nights, Bar in the bottom of our closet on the last night of school, Naps instead of going to Sistare's class, Olive GARden and Ian/Ethan/his friend was much hotter than him/he had bad tattoos and moobs.

Junior year: LEHCHEW LEHCHEW LEHCHEW.

Senior year: LehChew, Dunkin, Delaware, MTV and VH1 reality shows for hours and hours and hours, G-child (XOXOXOXOX), The VU, Manhatten, Paycheck/Farmer's Market/GQ and his millions of kids/Hot meat guy and his son/Hotter vacuum guy/Cornbread.

Obviously it's hard to classify the past four years because so much has happened and it has all blended together between the school year and our summers and everything in between.  I love how we laugh so hard we can't breath; how you know it's funny when we laugh without making a noise and then all of a sudden gasp and start smacking whatever piece of furniture is around us.  Thank you for putting up with my craziness and coming to all of my Chai concerts and cooking me dinner since we both know I can't cook for shit but  secretly love doing dishes.

If it wasn't for you, I might be the only person alive who thinks that Kevin James is attractive (I mean...), and the only person left still doing A-Okkkkk.

You're an unbelievable person, unbelievable friend, and will always be my rommster.

81 you! ,

Rommy, Rommster, Rommhead

Dear...

Dear Loves Of My Life,

I've had a lot of people come and go in my life.  Some of them I knew wouldn't be lifelong friends, some of them cut me to the core when they disappeared.  But you four, you're for real.  You've been there through everything so far and I know you'll be there for everything else to come.  Thank you for laughing with me, crying with me, telling me I'm being crazy, and telling me everything will be okay.  Thank you for judging me when I needed to be judged, and not judging me when everyone else was.

Carol:  First off, happy birthday you gorgeous piece of love.  I always find it funny when people's first impression of you is a hard, cut-to-the-core chick.  Don't get me wrong, you're tough as hell and you have been through things that no one else I know has.  You are one of the strongest people I know, but you are also one of the softest and sweetest people I know.  Underneath your studded belts and blue eyeshadow is a pink, lacey girly girl with, let's face it, one of the most smokin' bodies I've ever seen.  You and I always say that there is a connection between us that no one will ever understand because we have a very similar outlook on so many situations.  I will never ever leave you hanging and I know that feeling is reciprocated.

Cristin:  My god you're stunning.  You're the only person I know that can buy all of her clothes off eBay and still make them look amazing.  You know how to do little things to make me feel better when I'm down and out, whether it be making me a handful of mix CD's, or breaking out your Gilmore Girls dvds.  You're an incredible artist and I truly don't think you give yourself enough credit for that.  Also the things that come out of your mouth are funny enough to make anyone pee their pants, juuuust a little bit.

Jil:  What can I say, you're my LLP to the very end.  When Blake and I broke up, you were one of the main reasons I was able to get through it.  Whether it was our trip to New York (where we were Internet Adults on our NBC tour tickets), or the time I couldn't stand to be at school one second longer and you drove all the way up to Allentown to take me home for the night, I could never have gotten through those following weeks without you.  You're the kind of friend where I don't have to tell you what I'm thinking, you just know.  And James Dean probably knows too ;)  But the bottom line is, there are no words to describe how much I appreciate you and care for you.

Claud:  This may sound cheesy, but so many aspects of who I've been and who I am are because of you.  In high school I was in awe of how confident and self-sufficient you were.  I still am.  You're the only person I know that constantly has 800 jobs at one time and rocks them all.  My love of tattoos, country music, and orgasm cake all came about because of you.  So did my ability to stick up for myself and actually believe that I deserve the things that I do.  In all the years I've known you, there has never been one second where I have been with you and not had a hysterical time.  Remember that letter I wrote to you the night before you left for college a couple weeks after high school?  Well every word still holds.  I love you.

So my lovely ladies, you are absolutely everything to me and always will be.  I know you've made me proud and I hope I've done the same for you.  You can always always always count on me.  Cause trust me, I'm not going anywhere.

Sincerely,

AleXXXis/Dirty Dislexo/LLP

Dear...

Dear Mom~Mom,

Three years ago today we lost you.  But it wasn't just us that lost you, it was the world.  The world lost the most stunning, kind, vulgar woman it would ever know.  I look back now and regret not taking advantage of every day you were alive, because it wasn't until you were gone that I realized how vital you were to the amazing group of people that I'm lucky enough to call my cousins, aunts, and uncles.  I wouldn't say you were the glue that held us together, because we're closer and stronger than most families I know.  Instead, I would say that we were like a present.  And you were the delicate yet slightly crude bow wrapped around us that made the gift that much better.

You were the one that was always there.  You were at every school play, every birthday, every violin concert.  You would sit there with your eyes closed and a smile on your face, soaking in every note, every pull of the bow.  I wish that you were still around to have heard me sing at my a cappella performances.  

You called me your little debutante.  It felt good to know that you always saw something special in me, even when I was the angry, messy cousin that hated the world and everything in it.  The best advice you ever told me, that anyone will ever tell me, was to grab the world by the ass and give it a good spin.  I've been grabbing ever since.

I still have all of the cards you gave me over the 19 years I knew you.  The cards that were really just the front of old cards that you had collected over the years and ripped the cover off of to reuse.  You would draw dozens of smiley faces around every edge and corner of the paper, and underline any word that you felt needed emphasis, even if it was just the word "happy" or "day".  I remember when you were so excited to buy your bright red walking shoes, and I remember when you spent an entire Christmas telling all of the cousins about your adventures necking with mafioso down by the lake.  

I remember the little white lies you used to tell because you didn't want anybody to be inconvenienced or hurt, even though those little white lies usually caused more trouble than they were worth.

I remember that you used to babysit me and my brother and play Monopoly with us for hours.  You used to cook with Len and Chris and go walking with Kelsey and Rachael.  You would watch the Price is Right with Heather, Kelly, and Alyssa, and every time you laughed, you would kick your legs out in front of you and wiggle your feet.

There were so many times that you bothered me, that I resented the fact that you were constantly throwing out our soda cans before we even took two sips, or cleaning up our rooms while we were at school so when we came home we had no idea where anything was.  Sorry.

I was never one to believe in God and heaven, and I still don't.  But you once said that when you die, you want to forever be 21 years old, wearing a little black dress and drinking a martini.  So that's how I imagine you.  Sitting on a barstool on a cloud, with your legs crossed and a drink in your hand.  

I know you're not physically here anymore, but at the same time, you're everywhere.  You were at Heather's wedding, you were at my college graduation, you're watching me write this right now.  Probably with Cocoa and Pop-Pop Charles.  Or so I like to think.

So Mom~Mom, I guess I just want to say I miss you and I love you, because I know I didn't say it nearly enough when you were alive.  But I do.  I love you and we're all who we are because of you.  So thank you.  And I hope that martini is damn good.

Love forever and ever,

Your Little Debutante

Dear...

Dear Eating Disorder,

You're a whore.  You're a whore and I hate you for making me want to die if I gain even half a pound.  I hate you for making me constantly suck in my stomach and pinch the side of my waist to make sure I can still fit the entire palm of my hand around my front and back.  I hate you for making all of my pants slip off my body because they're so loose even a belt doesn't hold them up anymore.  And I hate you for, in the past couple months alone, having me sent home from work numerous times because I had actually allowed myself to eat something that morning and felt like I was going to throw up.  

I'm not sure when you started.  I don't remember you coming around much in high school, which would explain why when I look back now of pictures of me then, I think, "What a fat ass".  I don't even think you bothered me that much my freshman year of college when I gained a nice freshman 25.  I vaguely remember being conscious of you the next year, but it wasn't until February of my junior year, when everything was happening, everything that will surely be discussed in another letter, that I spent a solid two weeks eating nothing but half a diet bar a day.  And even then, I would eat it at night so any weight it put on my body would be gone by morning.  Eating Disorder, you made me so tired, so weak, so miserable.  To the point where I went to two of the girls I lived with and asked them to make sure I eat.  Which they did.  So fuck you Eating Disorder.

The next time you came around was that following summer.  When I became obsessed with running, for hours at a time.  I would run in the morning, come home, do a zillion crunches, and then go for another run each time I ate something.  Even if I just had a handful of chips, out came the iPod and sneakers.  I used to get secretly angry with John when he told me I was too skinny and needed to gain some weight.  Looking back, it was probably the nicest and most genuine thing he'd ever said to me.  

Senior year was saved by the fact that big, flowy shirts were in style.

This past summer I lost the charger for my iPod so I stopped running.  Exercising was replaced with cigarettes (which I don't want to quit purely for the fear of gaining weight) and Adderall.  One little pill, provided by a friend who I'm sure would stop providing it if she knew what I was really using it for, that instantly quenched my hunger.  It came to the point where I couldn't go a day without it, causing me to lose a good fifteen pounds in about two weeks.  I realized what was happening, along with numerous people asking me if I had lost weight.  My old roommate from college would beg me to eat every time she saw me.  So I stopped taking the Adderall.  Or at the very least, I stopped taking it every single day.  I allowed myself to eat a full meal.  I gained back a couple of pounds and have never felt more disgusting with myself.

During one of the days where I was leaning up against the counter at work trying not to vomit, a guy I work with hesitantly asked me if I was anorexic.  I thought about it and for the first time admitted that maybe I was.  I think what I said was, "I've had problems with it in the past".  I didn't want to admit that it was still a problem for me, now more so than ever.  He asked if I wanted a hug but I said no.  That hug would seal the deal.  It would make me a victim and I didn't want that.  I just wanted my secret eating disorder back.  

So Eating Disorder, you've been thrown under the bus.  The cat's out of the bag and I hope that I can get rid of you because honestly, I'm starving. 

Fuck you,

Me

Dear...

Dear Former Love Of Mine,

I used to regret so many things about you and I,  but I've finally come to the point where I don't regret, I appreciate.  Because of you, I know who I want to be and who I don't want to be; what I want in a relationship and what I don't want in a relationship.  You made me weaker and stronger all at the same time.  But most importantly, you made me realize that someone can love me.  You loved me with all your heart and soul and that is a feeling that I will never ever forget and never ever be able to thank you enough for.

The other day I found the ring you gave me.  The gorgeous ring with the white gold and the diamonds and the hearts.  Just out of curiosity I slipped it onto my left ring finger; the finger it used to never leave.  It fit perfectly.  While all my other rings now slip off my fingers, this one fit perfectly.  It made me feel good.  After we broke up, this ring used to make me so sad, but now it just brings back the good memories.  

I love that we're at the point now where I can truly call you my friend.  We can tell each other we love each other and know exactly what we mean.  I don't tell people how often we talk and how often we hang out because I don't feel like hearing the lectures and seeing the eye rolls, because the truth is, no one can understand a relationship between two people except for those two people.  Although, I don't even think that you and I completely understood the time that we spent enthralled with each other.

I could go on forever about the good and the bad with you, Former Love Of Mine.  Like the time you had my friend trick me into meeting him in the student union so you could run up and surprise me with a dozen roses.  Like the time you blindfolded me on Christmas Eve and led me through the city to give me the ring in front of the Christmas tree and LOVE sign in Love Park.  Like the time you walked into my room on Valentine's Day, where I stood getting ready to go to dinner, and told me you didn't want to be with me anymore; told me that we were over.  I have cried amazing and excruciating tears over you.  Too many to count really.  But in the end, thank you for spending the past three years making sure I'm ok and making sure I'm loved, whether it be by you or someone else.

Sincerely Love,

Me  

Dear...

Dear Hot Guy At Work,

First off, thank you for being hot.  Without you having such a good thing going on with your face, there's a strong probability that I would not have shown up for work nearly as much as I did.  Second, thank you for flirting with me just enough to get my hopes up, but not enough to make me think you were a sure thing.  It made things interesting.  Fun.  A nice little business casual chase.  

The best thing that came out of you being the hot guy at work came once I got to know you.  And realized you're kind of a douche bag.  Therefore making me come to the conclusion, and for the first time ever actually believing, that looks aren't everything.  Now when I see a smoking hot guy with tattoos and a tight ass, I hear a little voice say, 'He's probably every tool in the toolbox'.  This saves me the time of prematurely imagining our future wedding and kids and retirement plan.

So Hot Guy At Work, this letter may have been short and sweet but so was my crush on you.  You keep being hot and rock on buddy.  Rock on.

Sincerely,

Me

 

Don't Let Me Down December

So November kinda stunk.  This being December 1st, I'm hoping that things will get better, or at the very least things will be better by January 1st.  The other day, a friend asked me if I still write.  And I thought about it and realized that I don't.  Even most of the things I post on here are things I'd previously written over the past couples years.  Anyway, he told me I should start writing again and I realized that maybe this is why I haven't been happy with how my life is going.  I've had no outlet to get rid of all the annoying, messy things.  When I was in college, I used any writing assignment I would get as a chance to put my thoughts down, but (un)fortunately, I don't get homework anymore.  

A couple days ago in work I was standing behind the computer, supposed to be looking up some book for someone on the phone.  Instead I started writing down a list of all the people and things I wanted to write a letter to.  Why I suddenly had an impulse to write a letter to every person place or thing I'd ever known is beyond me, but it happened so I went with it.  So I made a pretty extensive list and decided that every couple days I would post one of those letters on here, and maybe if I got enough of them I could compile a nifty little book.  Of course, on the way home from work that day I suddenly remembered seeing Don Rickles of all people appearing on Regis and Kelly the previous week, promoting his new book: a book of letters to every person, place, and thing he'd ever known.  So apparently my sudden genius idea wasn't as original as I had thought but then I realized I didn't care.  I'm doing it.  And who knows, maybe you'll find a letter to you on here.