Dear Red-Headed Man

I have to say, I had more fun with you this weekend that I have had with anyone in years. When first faced with the idea of spending a long weekend at this conference, I was daunted, to say the least. Thanks to you, it flew by. And once you and I found a common enemy to savage– it was magical. Do you remember, I know you do, when the awful woman from Phoenix want on a rant about proper funding for something-or-other, and you said, “I don’t know how you can call it proper funding for such an improper idea.” Hilarious. It was a magical moment.

You are one of the wittiest, sharpest people I’ve ever met, and you make me laugh hysterically, and we have more interests in common than I do with even my best friends, but I’m sorry to say, I could never date you. You have red hair, and with that comes the pink “constantly sunburned” looking skin. I find this odd and creepy. Maybe I could get over it. The real reason I can never date you is because you don’t look enough like me. I have brown hair, and you have red hair. Even if I chose to dye my hair, or if you dyed yours (which most guys have been unwilling to do), we would still never look enough alike to satisfy me.

I need to be in a couple where people see the two of us walking down the street and say “are they brother and sister, or sleeping together… or are they both?!” I need to create intrigue without doing a thing. I thrive on it. You may be the man of my dreams in every other way, but unless we do nothing but talk on the phone, we can’t have a real relationship.

I know that a lot of people these days say personal standards have become impossible, I agree with that, that why this is my only real criteria for a significant relationship. I want to stare longingly into a face so like my own that it scares me a little. I want to have children who make people puzzle as to which of us they look like, and in old age, I want us to look like identical shriveled peanuts with brown hair.  This is what I need, and I’m sorry to say, you cannot give it to me.

Good luck with everything in the future

February 3, 2008 Posted by | by theagirl, false, letters | , | Leave a comment

the end of an era

After too many bad experiences, I’m hanging up my hat – I will never donate blood again. The only healthy and helpful addiction I’ve had just hasn’t been good to me. Perhaps the altitude is too much for my thin blood, as every time I’ve donated in Bozeman I’ve gotten incredibly dizzy and expect to be out of commission for at least three days. Today I actually fainted. In Borders. At the checkout. Mid-sentence.

It sucked. And I needed my mommy to make me feel better.

Recounting my spell with my mom, the first pop-culture reference that came to me was, of course, Sex and the City. Miranda has recently moved into swanky new digs and nearly chokes on Chinese takeout, heimliching herself. She calls up Carrie in panic, terrified that she’s going to die alone in her apartment with only her super to discover cats feasting on her decomposing body. Fainting isn’t on the same level as choking but both leave you shaken, and more importantly, Miranda and I were both overwhelmed by loneliness.

Overall I don’t feel lonely. I really don’t. Sometimes I miss the familiarity and comfort a relationship brings but I like being single. Too many people, women especially, jump from one relationship to the next without taking any time to figure out who they are, what they want out of life and all the existential bullshit we must plow through. I’m lucky to have the opportunity to be completely self-centered. But at that exact moment it would have been SO NICE to have someone with me.

Maybe I was so shocked because I’ve never fainted before, but I imagine the experience is surreal to everyone. I blearily opened my eyes to discover two strange faces gazing down at me. The guy waiting in line behind me was nice enough to catch my head so I didn’t get a concussion – aww – and my cashier pilfered some orange juice from the cafe. For a moment I got a taste of what alzheimers must feel like: I was terribly disoriented and seemed to have forgotten how to move and speak. As I struggled to sit up, two nurses from the Red Cross came to my aid with a 10-pound bag of ice and cookies. For 15 minutes I laid on the floor of Borders with ice on my chest and my feet elevated on a chair, exchanging decorating tips with the nurses. When they were satisfied that I had regained enough color (until this afternoon I wasn’t aware that I had ANY melanin) I was set free.

Giving back to others is so important to me, which is why I’m on my way to a third AmeriCorps term. Donating blood is quick and easy and it actually saves lives.

Okay, I’ll try donating one more time and if I faint again, I’m really done.

February 1, 2008 Posted by | by kellyjeanjellybean | , | 1 Comment