parents

March 17, 2008

Dear Parent,

 Seriously? You don’t have fifteen minutes free in your schedule to attend a conference about your child?  When I sent the paper home with your appointment on it & you didn’t confirm, I figured you’d forgotten or were lazy. Whatever the case, I was cool with it. I still held the appointment for you.

 Yet I am now sitting here waiting for you (along with several other parents, actually) to show up to your child’s second trimester report card conference and you are too busy to come.

 I’m curious. What exactly is more important than your child today? Are you not concerned at how far he is falling behind or how, whenever she gets upset, she punches someone? This is not something that should bother you?

I did not ask you here to accuse or berate you. I asked you here so that we could discuss how best to ensure that your child is successful. In Kindergarten. In school. In life.

 I’m terribly sorry that you couldn’t be troubled to be here today. I hope everything works out for your kid.

 I just don’t understand,

Miss Pants

No One?

February 11, 2008

Dear Alicia Keys,

I find it hard to believe that someone hasn’t told you that your hit song, “No One,” is completely out of your effing range. It may sound ok on the recording (though its dreadful repetitiveness still exists), but whenever you perform it live (and it does appear lately that it’s the only song in your own catalogue which you remember how to perform), you are consistently flat and yell-y on the eponymous chorus. That third “No o-o-one” is especially excruciatingly flat.

No one has told you you’re flat? No one at all?

i suppose every single flipping performance of that song gives me my answer, in more ways than one.

please stop singing,

scrappy

Hillary Clinton

February 2, 2008

Hey Hil,

So, you’re running for president. You’re clearly intelligent, clearly successful, and clearly female. These facts alone are generally enough to engender my respect at minimum, if not my affection. Also, you’re married to Bill, and i still kinda like that guy, for reasons unknown.

But i just fucking hate you right now.

Part of this isn’t really your fault. Part of the ire which you draw forth from me is a result of my undying devotion to Barack Obama. Every time i see him deliver a speech, a reply to something obnoxious in a debate, or even a greeting, i have an overwhelming urge to quit my job, sell my worldly goods, and volunteer as a lowly minion for his campaign–just handing out Barack tracts on the street corner, or walking around in sandwich boards with his smiling visage and “Vote Barack, for the love of Pete” on them. So, yeah, i’d probably hate Mother Teresa if she were running against my candidate crush. How can you hate a guy that says stuff like this:

  • Beliefnet: Your 2004 Democratic National Convention speech introduced you to the nation. And perhaps the most repeated line from that speech was, simply, “We worship an awesome God in the blue states.” Did you think that line would have as much resonance as it wound up having?
  • Obama: Yeah, I did. That’s why I put it in there.

Or this:

“He was referring to his Democratic presidential rivals, when they were asked at the MSNBC debate to state their biggest weaknesses.

‘Because I’m like, an ordinary person, I thought that they meant what’s your biggest weakness?’ Mr. Obama said. ‘So I said, “Well, I don’t handle paper that well. You know, my desk is a mess. I need somebody to help me file and stuff all the time.” So the other two they say uh, they say well my biggest weakness is “I’m just too passionate about helping poor people. I am just too impatient to bring about change in America.”‘

As the room erupts in laughter, he continues: ‘If I had gone last I would have known what the game was. I could have said, “Well you know, I like to help old ladies across the street. Sometimes they don’t want to be helped. It’s terrible.”‘

In a tone rich with sarcasm, Mr. Obama launched into a fresh critique about Senator Hillary Rodham Clinton’s answer on how she had voted on a bankruptcy bill in Congress.

‘This was a bill she voted for in 2001 and that the credit card companies and the banks had been pushing to make it harder for people to get out of debt and reduce the 30-percent interest on the credit cards and folks had been going bankrupt for it,’ he said. ‘She was asked about it by Tim Russert and she said, “Oh I voted for it but I’m glad to see that it didn’t pass.”

‘What does that mean? No seriously what does that mean? If you, if you want to see a bankruptcy bill then you vote against,’ Mr. Obama said. “

Come on. He’s a badass. Part of that quote sums up why i have no love for you, H. Clint. You are completely full of shit. Garbage. Refuse. Untruthiness, as Colbert might say.

This whole race thing… you just have to stop using this as a weapon. One could argue that you’re using a tactic similar to those being used against you by the far right (labeling you as a shrewish woman without actually saying anything anti-women, in the same way you’ve used my political boyfriend’s race against him without actually saying black people are bad).

to wit, someone smarter than me:

“The Clintons are reading the polls, too; they might well be resigned to the possibility that most black Democrats will vote for Obama. This would mean that South Carolina is probably already lost and that the campaign’s focus now has to be on Florida and the many states whose delegates are up for grabs on ‘Tsunami Tuesday.’”

“Is it possible that accusing Obama and his campaign of playing the race card might create doubt in the minds of the moderate, independent white voters who now seem so enamored of the young, black senator? Might that be the idea?

“Yes, that’s a cynical view. But history is history.”

someone else smarter than me who discusses this issue at length: Paul Tough. Also: John Hodgman. Also: tons of other people.

anyhow. if you could please stop sucking so much ass, and fall off the face of the earth so that the most inspiring, energetic, and exciting presidential candidate in the last 40 years can take his rightful place as the democratic candidate, i would appreciate it.

loathingly,

scrappy

the perfect drink

January 10, 2008

Dear 7up,

How could you? You created a product that was delightful and you only offered it for a limited time. I bought your Pomegranate flavor because, let’s face it, I’ll buy anything with the word “Pomegranate” on the label (soda, shampoo, fish bait…). Your delicious beverage even inspired me to create the world’s greatest cocktail!! Pomegranate 7up, Absolut Mandrin, and tangerine-orange juice. The perfect drink.

 Here’s my issue. You were supposed to have this shit available until the 31st of January.  I can no longer find it anywhere. By my calculations (and according to my calendar), today is the tenth.  What the hiz, 7up? What am I supposed to drink now?

 Bring it back, kid. Trust me, it’d be better for us both if you just do as I say.

Seriously.

Pants 

noises

December 26, 2007

dear creepy noises upstairs in this damn house, could you stop it already? it really sounds like there’s someone up there, but i’m too much of a puss to check it out. i’m not even 5’5″! what the fuck am i going to do if there really is someone up there? dial 911 and run screaming from the house, allowing you to complete your plunder of this lovely place uninhibited? i’d rather pretend i can’t hear you at all, creepy noises, instead of admitting your existence and thus having to acknowledge the need for me to check you out. maybe it’s just the dog snoring! yeah, that’s it! zoey, the 10 lb, 78-year-old lhasa apso snoring so loudly and step-soundingly that i am led to think there’s someone in the house (whose door i forgot to lock after said dog’s walk, of course. come on in, criminals! here’s my social security number, while you’re at it!).  just don’t rape me or take my macbook, please– I haven’t even paid this damn thing off yet. the rest is all yours.scaredly,scrappy 

the proposal.

December 20, 2007

Little Man,

I think I’ve reminded you nearly seven thousand times not to shout out when I’m talking. Especially during story time!! Story time is my favorite time of day and you talking while I’m reading is inexcusable.

 But, today, you’re excused.

Today you said what can get you out of almost any kind of trouble.

While I was midsentence in a story about a hedgehog who stretched out a red wooly hat (?), you declared,

“For Christmas, I’m going to buy you two wedding rings!!”

What happens to a man between the ages of five and twenty-five that words like this just don’t come as easily?

Miss Pants

boxers

December 10, 2007

Hey Penguin Boxers-

I have not been feeling well. Yesterday morning, when I ripped all of the blankets (seven of them-it’s cold!!) off of my bed in a Nyquil-induced haze, frantically looking for my cell phone, I did not notice you.

Today, however, when I went into my room to unpack, you caught my eye. I knew something out of the ordinary had crept into my room. I actually froze, cocked my head to the side, and stared at you to try to figure out what I was looking at. You are red. You have little penguins on you. You are boxer shaped.

Oh, wait! You are red, penguin boxers!

But, how did you…?

Why are you…?

Who do you belong to?

Oh. That’s right.

Like a needed a reminder right now.

Thanks, Penguin boxers.

Pants

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