Dear Verragio Engagement Ring Commercial,

"For a diamond as unique as your love"? Really? How do you say these lines without cracking up?

"Falling in love has never been so much fun with Verragio diamonds!"

>.<

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Phil,

From one Pennsylvanian to another, you're making us look bad.

Hugs, kisses, and a neverending winter,

B

Dear NPR,

I promise there is other news besides Obamacare. I promise HealthCare.gov is not the only thing going on in the world. And I promise there are adjectives besides "disastrous" that apply to the rollout.

Hugs & kisses,

B

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 Yahoo! News,

Well thanks for that newsworthy headline. Here are some others in the same category:

• Oxygen, hydrogen key to sustaining life
• Many employees unhappy with their work
• Despite regulations, threats, some students still perform at average level
• Brick still stronger than straw, sticks

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 Bank,

I'm sure that from your perspective it makes comPLETE sense to have no easily findable "report a lost or stolen debit card" option on your website or monthly account statements, but for my part, I can't think of a good reason.

Seriously. Card. Missing. How do I tell you?

I suppose I could send an email, but that feels a little too much like this episode from IT Crowd.

Maybe someday you'll make your emergency number easy to locate. Until then, don't allow any debit charges from my account. Please? Somehow?

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Creative Writing,

Sometimes you're so aggravatingly impossible that I wonder why I even bother trying.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Coffee Shop Patrons,

You there, giggling loudly over board games on a Tuesday morning.  Do you see me?  Nursing three books, my computer, and a sugar-free latte?  Head tucked down, hair falling into my eyes, trying to think?  It's hard work, this thinking.  But you, you laugh about your game and your free schedule and your happy brain sighs in relief.  What then should I do?    

Love,

A

This guest letter brought to you by my dear friend A.

Dear Prospective Jobs,

Here's a tip: if you require applicants to complete more than 1 page beyond the requisite résumé and cover letter, you're being ridiculous. Those of us who need jobs don't have time to spend three days on a 15-page application. We will be happy to fill out your application after you review our résumés for an initial fit, but requiring the completed application before we're even sure if we like each other? That's like asking a girl to make a three-course meal before deciding if you should take her on a first date.

(Hint: you won't get any dates that way.)

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Metaphorical Blanket That Has "Don't Get Out of Bed This Morning" Stitched All Round Its Edges,

When my alarm goes off and you immediately descend on me, tucking yourself in around my toes and covering my head with the dark, heavy feeling of foreboding toward the day, why don't I ever listen to you? I have plenty of mornings when I just don't want to get out of bed, but you don't show up on those mornings. The mornings when you wrap me up in fear of the forthcoming day should make me sit up and take notice. "Hey, this morning's going to suck. Maybe I should just let it pass by without me."

But then I ignore you and I log in to work and my computer crashes and my health insurance company calls me and doesn't know where my policy is in its transfer across state lines.

You know something, though? That was just the morning. You just say, "Don't get out of bed this morning." That doesn't refer to the whole day.

Clean laundry, fun students, hilarious creative narrative assignments, a walk in the sunny and dormant botanical garden near my laundromat, and a surprise gift of chocolate-covered pretzels made the afternoon worth living for. So, you smothering old blanket, maybe I should listen to you more often, but then again, maybe I should focus on the distinction of "morning." Some morning's gonna hate. But that doesn't necessarily apply to the whole long day.

Still, I like the clear warning. Please don't stop alerting me when I'm about to enter a foregone forenoon.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Chirpy Refrigerator In My Otherwise Perfect New Apartment,

It's true: my apartment is nearly perfect. With its original 1928 doors and windows, a fantastic retro sink that matches the metal '50s kitchen table I inherited from my grandma, and heat paid for by the landlord, I can think of little that could make my new home any better.

Little, that is, besides a quieter refrigerator.

You, my dear large appliance, keep my milk chilled and my ice cream frozen in a manner I cannot reproach, and for a single woman living alone, I cannot think of a better size fridge than you. But you are never quiet. What's going on in there? Why must you run as loud as a leer jet at takeoff and make concerning dripping sounds in the four-minute intervals when you are (comparatively) quiet? And why (dare I ask?) does it sound for all the world as though you're hiding a flock of sparrows behind you?

(You aren't, are you?)

Please keep up the good work contributing to the overall perfections of my new apartment, but please -- if you can find it in yourself, deep down in the crisper -- please try to be a little quieter.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear 2011,

Congratulations. Despite an improved last few weeks, as a year you managed to be almost as bad as 2008. Good riddance. Maybe the world really will end in 2012 and free us all.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear 17-Year-Old Writing Students,

Much as I try, I cannot figure out how you have sat in my class the past six weeks and still do not know what a thesis statement is, where it belongs in an essay, and why it is important. I'm also unsure how you have seen the exact same edits on the exact same errors for the past 3-4 weeks and still haven't corrected them. I might start feeling like a failure of an English teacher if it weren't for your twelve-year-old classmates who are writing college-level reports. I would say that, someday, you'll wish you had paid more attention. Unfortunately, if you've made it this far without caring, I doubt you'll start anytime soon.

Hugs & kisses,
B