A Self-Imposed Deadline

Dear Self-Imposed Deadline,

Could you maybe just cut me a tiny bit of slack just this once? I know, I know... you've let me off the hook before, but I mean it this time. I'm going to respect you more in the future. I promise.

I just don't know what I was thinking when I made you. At the time, you seemed like a good idea. Seemed like you wouldn't be a problem. But you know how things get sometimes...

I was really meaning to meet you, I swear I was... sure, I got a little distracted, maybe didn't focus like I should have, and then, one thing led to another. It's a hard thing. Sometimes I get so carried away meeting other deadlines, the ones other people set on me, that I forget about you.

Anyway, maybe you can loosen up this time. I'd certainly appreciate it.

Sincerely,

Deadline Imposer

Persons Photographing Themselves with a Cell Phone in the Bathroom, Shirtless

Dear People Photographing Themselves in the Bathroom, Shirtless, with a Cell Phone,

You're doing life wrong. If someone wanted to see you in a pic without your shirt on, someone would have volunteered to take the picture. But no one did. That's why you're taking it of yourself... in a bathroom mirror. Instead of using the phone as a camera, you should take it and call a friend who can talk you out of it, the conversation will sound something like this --

"I've got the camera phone... and I'm kind of naked..."
"Put it down, slowly."
"But I feel so vulnerable right now... no one even comments on my profile pictures..."
"Stop flexing."
"But..."
"Please, we love you, we don't want you to do this to yourself. This affects the people around you. Also, the lighting is never good in these shots and they aren't particularly flattering, especially if the phone has a flash and here's that random bright white spot in the middle. And it's even worse when people don't Windex their mirrors properly and then sometimes we can see the spots, so just don't do it, okay?"

When you're ready to be photographed, someone will find you.

Sincerely,

Quiet Dignity

Cursive Handwriting

Dear Cursive,

You're going out of style, cursive. You need a change, a re-imaginng. A font face-lift.

Every school-child learns you about 8 times. Few will ever use you again, eventually forgetting you and then at that point, even if they want to, they can't use you.

Here's the problem, cursive. You're hard to read. That's good when playing poker, but bad when you are a handwriting. Yeah, you may be first-team all Texas Hold 'em, but you are cryptic communication, cryptic.

Cursive, I recently saw one sample of your work where I couldn't distinguish a's and u's. I wasn't sure if my friend was in a 'rut' or a 'rat,' and if they were in a rat, it would explain the hurried, sloppy handwriting but would leave other questions, such as how they had managed to get the letter to me and some more interesting existential questions about what it all meant and how exactly this was all happening. You may make letters more interesting, unintentionally, but that doesn't justify your cryptic-ness.

I have one word for you: standardization.

And I have one phrase for you: check yo'self before you wreck yo'self.

And I have one short story for you: but it's too long to share here.

And I have one open letter for you: this was it, dumdum.


Sincerely,

Legibility

The 'Does Anyone Here Have Gum?' Guy

Dear 'Does Anyone Here Have Gum?' Guy,

A tad presumptuous, aren't we?

Let's imagine someone in the room does have gum. It's possible. In fact, in a room of more than a dozen, baker's or non-baker's, it's downright likely. Now, at what point did we get from, 'someone here may have gum' to 'I'd like that person to volunteer that they have gum with the intention of them offering it to me and then feeling like they need to offer it to everyone else in the room because it will be awkward if they don't'?

And yeah, that's exactly where you're taking this, 'does anyone here have gum' guy.

I mean, can you imagine this scenario:

'Does anyone here have gum?'

'Yeah, I do.'

The two look at each other, waiting. Until...

'Okay, cool, I was just curious.'

You'd get all upset, 'does anyone here have gum' guy. Suddenly, everyone else here is inconveniencing you. How could you be forced to live with the fact that you've ran out (if you ever did have any gum... but we'll give you the benefit of the doubt) and will now have nothing to stick under your chair or toss onto the ground in ten minutes once it loses its flavor?

And I know, I know, if you had gum you'd gladly offer it to anyone here. Great. Yet, it'd be equally presumptuous for me to expect you to. Did you consider that there are those of us who don't feel like asking everyone else in the room for gum when we don't have any?

No, you didn't.

Also, if you ever get gum disease, don't chime in at a party, 'Does anyone here have gum disease?'... we won't want to hear that question, either.

Sincerely,

Anti-Mooching Gum Association

Out-of-date Driver's License Pictures

Dear Out-of-date Driver's License Picture,

Remember the time you looked like me? I was 15, and I had just gotten a permit. Now, more than a decade later, your image is still my ID. When the government demands answers, your face attempts to provide them. Has this caused issues? Surely.

After all, we look nothing alike.

You were young. I am gray. I am wrinkled. Well, not yet, but someday I will be, and I'll have an out-of-date picture then too. Sometimes I feel older than every single picture of me...I'm not sure why though.

The other problem, of course, is you were taken during Arab-appreciation week and I happened to be wearing a turban in it. I also had a fake beard, although I can't pinpoint the exact reason for it. It's funny how life's minute details become so hazy to us now. I wouldn't even remember the beard if it hadn't been immortalized on a plastic card.

Indeed, I don't look exactly like you do. Different hair color...nose job...ear reduction...face tattoos. You have complicated my life, out-of-date driver's license.

When the government wants answers, you just give them plenty more to question.

I applaud your memory and curse your presence.

Sincerely,

My Current Face

Abandoned Blogs

Dear Abandoned Blog,

You're alone. Yet, you aren't. There are so many of you; each with its own domain name -- its own space and place. But abandoned nonetheless.

You began with optimism and hope. We all thought you'd go the distance, blog. We never thought your contributors would forget or get lazy or realize they didn't want so much of their personal lives out in the public... or maybe they finally noticed no one was reading you and it caused them to pause. That's probably what happened. And therefore, few, if any, care that you were abandoned.... but every once in a while, a reader does come to your space on the Internets, only to notice your last update was in 2005. Your current events are archives.

It's not unique to be abandoned; but unlike an abandoned toy or pet, your memory is digital, and thus, forever. An abandoned tortoise dies. An abandoned blog haunts. There's an old Chinese proverb that says something like that I believe.

Abandoned blog, you suck.

Sincerely,

The Internets

the Guy Who Waits Until the End of the Credits

Dear Guy Who Waits Until the End of the Credits,

We appreciate your independent spirit. We do.

It's the spirit of perseverance, the spirit of patience, the spirit of finding out who the assistant of the assistant's lighting, mixer specialist's cousin's right-hand man was in Daddy Day Camp. It's the spirit that keeps an audience seated while teenagers sweep up popcorn around their legs. It's the spirit that ignores the house lights hinting for them to leave. It's that spirit that says, "the theatre experience isn't over 'till I say it's over."

Few of us have learned what you already know: the movie doesn't really start until it's already ended. Did not Van Gogh leave his signature on his masterpieces? Did not Picasso? Did not Michelangelo? Others probably did too, but I don't know that much about art. And if they did, why shouldn't the masses behind Home Alone 3 do the same? And more importantly, why shouldn't you know who they are? It was a rhetorical question, but I know you know the answer. Your actions speak louder than any non-rhetorical answer ever could.

Guy who waits until the end of the credits, you don't hang around too long -- the rest of us don't hang around long enough. I'm just giving credit where credit is due; and credit is due for the guy who watches the credits. It's a credit to the credits.

Believe that.

Sincerely,

White type over black enthusiast