Dear Ridiculously Attractive Guy Who Sold Me My New Car on Saturday,

When I walked up to the group of salespeople and you were the one who stepped out to show me around the lot, I nearly turned around and left right then and there. Seriously? I thought. Send the cute guy my age out to sweet talk me into buying a car? I've been studying advertising techniques since the fourth grade; I see exactly what you're doing here. Well, I did buy a car, but you had very little to do with it.

That's not to say I wasn't aware of the fact you kept changing the radio in every car I drove to a good station and started telling me all about your creative pursuits when you found out I'm a writer. Got super excited when you found out we practically share a birthday. Kept asking if I live alone.

And then today I got my mail. Is it normal for salesmen to send thank you notes to their customers? I figure yes, probably. It's good business to follow up with customers and keep the lines of communication open. But is it normal to fill the card with compliments about my being the kind of "intelligent, positive, and fun" person that "makes [your] job fun"?

Not sure about my next steps here, so I'm asking my readers. Am I supposed to drop by the dealership sometime or let it all drop?

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 Every Happy Pop Song Ever,

You suddenly all make sense.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Feminine Wiles,

You've been entirely absent most of my life, and I got kind of used to it. Yes, I wanted to think there would be a day I might be attractive, but in reality, never able to imagine a time you'd ever be on, I built up no strategy for turning you off. But it seems I need to learn.

First, it was my one true love on State Street. Last week, it was the man (Bingo, he called himself) on the bus who offered me a seat. On his lap.

And today, it was on my way out of the library. I got a (and I quote), "Damn, girl, you are fine," complete with some kind of wolf whistle. Thank the Lord it's day light in the evenings now.

The thing is, now that you apparently exist, suddenly, after the awkwardness of my teenage years and beyond, I don't know how to handle this type of thing. From behind my eyes, I'm still the acne-speckled, overweight, unstylish girl with split ends, and it's hard to believe that these forthright displays of attraction aren't some kind of joke.

And really, even if that wasn't the case, I'm pretty sure it's uncomfortable for everyone to be wolf-whistled and lap-offered. So while I appreciate the fact you finally decided to exist, you need to chill out when I'm around creepers, okay? Because that's not cool.

Feel free to crank it up, however, around non creepers. That I don't object to.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Logic,

I appreciate your efforts, I really do. But sometimes, no matter how much you present the reasonable side of things, it just won't make my emotions budge. I'll stay angry, depressed, bored, or ecstatic whether it's at all logical or not. The past week has been logically awesome, but my emotions can't seem to keep up. Don't stop trying to reason me back over to normal, but please don't expect me to always make sense. Sometimes I just only have it in me to be a Marianne Dashwood, rather than her sensible sister Elinor.

Hugs & kisses,
B