Dear Heartland Credit Union,

Your logo says to me, "Come build a Monopoly house on top of a tree where the sun will get it when it consumes the earth in pixels."

No? Not what you were going for?

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Businesses that Advertise Things Everyday,

Let's talk about that word: everyday. I know that sometimes space is limited on signs, but that's no reason for inaccuracy. Here's a guide:

Everyday (no space): Describes something common and unremarkable.

Example: No matter how much she loves me, my mom probably doesn't want to hear about my teeth-brushing and other everyday events.

Every day (with a space): Describes the frequency with which something happens.

Example: I'm always excited to save $1.00 on coffee when I bring my own mug, even though it happens every day.

So when you advertise your $5 Buck Lunch Everyday, I have to wonder if you meant to say it happens each day or if you think it's not a very remarkable deal.

Hugs & kisses,

B

Dear Dairy Queen's $5 Buck Lunch,

Are you a lunch for male deer, maybe? A saltlick and berries? An extra dollar off if you come in with antlers?

I ask because you're called the Five-dollar buck lunch. Or didn't you realize that the $ means dollars? That is to say, if you have a $, then you don't need the "buck." Either you're trying to get our attention with your incorrectness, or you need to find some more language-savvy folks to contribute to your ad campaign.

Hugs & kisses,

B

Dear Trailblazing,

If you can say one thing about me, it's that I like to do things right. If I'm learning something new, I don't just jump in with both feet; I wade in, slowly, analyzing each step and mentally projecting the future consequences of stepping in this spot instead of that one with each progressive footfall. Once I blaze the trail one time, I'm pretty good at following that same path fearlessly when I come to the same place again, and after a lifetime of blazing well-marked trails, I can appear to outsides to take life pretty confidently.

Until I get to a place that's unfamiliar. Then I have no idea how to proceed, and I'm forced to blaze a new trail. It takes time. It's an agonizing process. I step, I pause, I map out potential next steps, decide how well the previous steps went, how I could or should change or keep going, stop and think, stop and think, step back and reassess. I want to do it right, and without ever seeing this path before, I have no points of reference to get me going. As Sarah Bareilles sang:

I'm already out of foolproof ideas
so don't ask me how to get started.
It's all uncharted.

Uncharted, yes, but not unchartable. And although in this situation there are other people depending on my blazing a fair trail, I think they're patient enough to see where I take it.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Television,

Most of my life, I forget you're there. In the corner. All alone. If you were a plant, you'd have died eighteen times by now. But sometimes, like tonight, I come home from work after a long day after a long weekend, and you give me something mindless to do before I go to bed. Just want to say thanks, TV. Thanks for not being a plant, and thanks for being mindless.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear B,

I know you're exhausted. I know that the one thing you want from this weekend is to sleep and not go anywhere or be expected to do anything, that your body is collapsing from sleep deprivation and office furniture, and your mind is overwhelmed with planning, organizing, and learning.

But this isn't the weekend you get to rest. Neither will next weekend, probably, or the one after that. In other words, your days of rest are over. If you're going to hold a job that keeps you out of the house for 12 hours a day and get things done like shopping and post office visits, you're going to have to get used to the dizziness that comes from sleep deprivation, the piles of things-to-do on every surface of your apartment, the sink perpetually full of dirty dishes, and the closet full of old clothes you'll have to wear because you don't have energy to go shopping for new ones. This sounds crazy to you after your freelancer days, but it's perfectly normal. You may feel like the waking dead, but so do all the other 20-something full-time workers out there.

And just think. Half of them have kids.

Hugs & kisses,

B

Dear Creative Writing,

Seriously, you're being so kind to me lately that I can barely stand it. Get ready for greatness!

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Second Week of the Semester,

You are cold, cruel, and heartless.  Okay, I'll be reasonable: You are unseasonably warm, cruel, and heartless.  A sore back, three hundred pages of reading, and a very awkward coffee date remind me that Christmas break not only softened my middle but molded my brain into a ridgeless lump and did nothing for my social life.  Please be merciful to me.

Love,

A

This guest letter brought to you (a little belatedly -- sorry!) by my dear friend A.