Sunday letters

Dear Penn State, I guarantee that I was the only one at work streaming the Joe Paterno memorial live on my computer on Thursday.  While everyone else was buzzing about the Oscar nominees, the new shade of Sephora gloss, and the Christopher Kane line at JBrand, I was trying not to weep audibly as each man, young and old, got up to express how his life had been drastically altered by the influence of this “molder of men.” And I’m not even an alumni, but I get it. Go figure.

Dear Katya, thank you for spending the weekend with me.  Your impatience with my 90 second makeup application and constant following from room to room (yes, my new apartment has rooms!) encouraged (bullied?) me to leave my abode and be outside for the last 36 hours, to soak up the 65 degree California sun and all that it has to offer the soul.

Dear Katya’s owners, Daniel and Anna, thank you for loaning me a gal who lifts my spirits and doesn’t take my crap.  And a huge congratulations – I hope that one day I will receive a ring given with such sincere love and devotion as you two experience.

Dear Ashley, for introducing me to some of the coolest folks I’ve ever met.  Macy’s, for delivery men who encourage me to start a support group for displaced Manhattanites simply because they deliver beds in SF to 18 people from NYC a week.  A week!  “What is going on over there?”  “I don’t know, Alfredo, I just don’t know.”  To California, for simultaneously providing a gorgeous day, on which I planned a trip to Napa, while simultaneously bought a ticket for a ski trip, all occurring within the next few weeks.  I now can deal with winter. Dear Iphone, thank you for embracing Instagram.  Droid, get your shite together, man, it’s embarrassing.  Zipcar, you allow me freedom, dependability, security, warmth, and pleasure – all the things I’m actually looking for in a man, and for a mere $50 a day!   I will see your blue arse on Saturday for the next adventure.


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