Tag Archives: friends

Dear Saying Goodbye at Parties

11 Nov

Dear Saying Goodbye at Parties,

I hate saying goodbye at parties. Not, like, dinner parties or whatever. But parties at bars, birthday parties with more then 12 guests, Halloween parties, house parties, New Year’s parties, dance parties, 80′s parties, 70′s parties, disco parties, come-as-your-favorite-literary-character parties, pool parties, beach parties, bachelorette parties, holiday parties, barbecues, weddings, etc.

Any sort of party where I can’t wave to everyone at once and be done with it.

Before you start thinking I’m horrible, let’s review the facts:

1) You might already think I’m horrible.

2) Everyone’s always drunk, so saying goodbye is like herding cats. Or drunk people.

3) This is the thing everyone says, even if they haven’t talked to you once and you only met them AS you were saying goodbye to the person they were standing next to, and even if it’s 1:50 am and the bar’s about to shut down: “You’re leaving? Don’t leeeeeeave. Staaaaaaaay. We’ll have fuuuuuuuuuun.” Thus forcing me to say something mean (it’s unavoidable at that point!) like, “I’m going to have more fun being in bed than I possibly would with you.” or “The only fun you’re going to have is with your toilet. By the way, you might want to pull your hair back now.” It’s good to be prepared. And far away, asleep, while someone else is puking.

4) When you go to say goodbye to people, and it’s late, and they’re drunk, they start hugging you. Even if in normal social contexts, this person and you would never press your private parts together. And then the next person does it because they saw the first person do it and they don’t want to be rude, or something? So instead they grope you. 

5) When I decide I’m ready to leave a party, it means I’m ready to leave. It does not mean I want to leave 30 minutes later after you have engaged me in random conversation about where I got my coat after I came to say goodbye to you. First of all, this coat is four years old, so you’re not going to find it in any stores. Secondly, I’m wearing it for a reason. Thirdly, I feel like you’re holding me hostage. I mean, how can I walk away from a compliment? That’s right— I can’t.

6) But then I have to find something to compliment you on, and you have to shrug it off, and then I have to either insist or revert to mission and be like, “Ok then! Bye!” and look like a total asshole and like I completely 100% did not mean that thing you just forced me to say. And then you’ll remember me less-than-fondly.

Whereas if I just jet out the door, chances are good you won’t remember me at all. You won’t remember whether or not I said goodbye, or whether or not we talked. You might not even remember if I was there. You definitely won’t care that I took off– in fact, you might even blame yourself for being too busy to catch me as I was going. You’ll just be like, “That was a good party. I want Doritos for breakfast.”

And I’ll be like, “That was great! I decided I wanted to leave and then I walked out the door and was asleep 20 minutes later. I am definitely going to the next thing she throws.” 

Love,

MM

Dear Matthew Inman of The Oatmeal

9 Nov

Dear Matthew Inman of The Oatmeal,

Matthew.  Hi.  Wanna be friends?  I went to the Oatmeal’s “About” page and I read that you’re from Seattle, Washington, and I’m from Seattle, Washington!  And isn’t that a coincidence.  A happy one, because I think your website is funny, and that (I think) means that you’re funny. Maybe you aren’t.  Maybe you suck in real life.  The internet lies sometimes.

I’m going to risk it because we have similar worldviews on the important things.  And I want to be in the internet club of funny-people who care about grammar with you and Allie of Hyperbole and a Half and whoever else is in the club.  I was the kid on the playground who never knew how to just join in on the damn kickball game already, so instead this is my nerdy-kid strategy of using my words to ask politely.

I would draw you a picture as a friendship offering but I can’t draw.  When I pick up a pencil, all my manual dexterity goes into hiding in some deep place in my stomach and screams “Nonononono no crafts! You can’t make me!”  It’s like drawing is science and my hands are George W. Bush.

Crafts stress me out.  I think it’s a combination of not having any natural talent at crafting and being a perfectionist.  My sister loves crafts.  She can pick a piece of glued paper off of another piece of paper without ripping either.  I mean, seriously.

Rainy days in our house involved a lot of frustrated forehead scrunching on my part and noises like “mregh!” and “grafrthge.”  While symphonies played over my sister’s head and little tiny woodland creatures applauded her even lettering, I had black smoke pouring out of my ears and grunge metal inside my craft-hating heart.

I still participated because I’m a sucker for competition and maybe this time my natural-born talent would decide to show up.  I’ve spent my whole life hoping I was secretly a child prodigy at something (if I am, it’s a really, really well-kept secret).  Just to shame me, there are two paintings we did as kids hanging in our kitchen: my sister’s is some sort of Jackson Pollack swirl of mixed color and multimedia modernism.

Mine looks like somebody pooed on a rainbow. An off-center pooed-on rainbow crammed in one corner of a large piece of paper.  Like I’m not only bad at drawing but also blind.

I guess I’m assuming that, like everybody else in this world, you don’t mind being friends with people who are not as good at you at certain things.  It makes us feel superior.  We like feeling superior.  It’s why we love it when people post crap on Facebook that makes them look crazy (you call them “the passive aggressor”).  So maybe you’ll want to be friends with me precisely because I can’t draw.

Anyway, let me know if you want to be besties, or even just casual internet acquaintances (that sounds weird) and say hi to my home city for me.  I recommend the chocolate croissants from Besalu in Ballard if you haven’t been there.

And thank you for making me laugh.

Cheers,

MM

Dear People Who Post Cryptic Melodramatic Status Updates on Facebook

19 Oct
Dear People Who Post Cryptic Melodramatic Status Updates on Facebook,

Such as:  “I hate some people!  Why can’t they figure their s*** out?!?”

“Friends suck!  If you can’t follow through, go to hell!”

“i hate it when friends don’t look at you when they answer your question clearly demonstrating they are mad despite claims to the contrary!!!”

“i just feel so alone.  why did he leave?” (WHY DID HE LEAVE? FOR GOD’S SAKE, TELL US.)

“i really effed up.”

“going into labor.  i’m so mad at him.”  (HAHA. Actually, feel free to post that anytime you like.)

A) IF YOU’RE GOING TO POST MELODRAMATIC CRAP, TELL US WHAT’S ACTUALLY GOING ON

so we can all be the creepy voyeurs we are and know what’s up.  instead of: “i am so sad some people cannot be trusted” I would much rather see: “My boyfriend cheated on me with my co-worker last night in the office and I walked in on it” a la Cosmopolitan confessions.  Then tell us all the details in the comments.

If you’re going to dish the gossip, bring it to the table piping hot and whip off the serving dish top so we can eat with it a soup spoon.  Don’t throw a few crumbs in the general direction of the dining room.  Savvy?

B) OR KEEP YOUR PERSONAL LIFE OFF THE FACEBOOK.

Hey guys, remember when it was called THE Facebook?!? As in, www.thefacebook.com???  Yeah, that happened.

Back to business: when you’re sad / lonely / disillusioned / just been cheated on / fighting with a friend: call someone.  Preferably your mother or someone else obligated to listen to your sob stories at inconvenient times.  If you’re friends with me, you can call me (graduate student: always willing to procrastinate and very few real obligations on my time).

If you’re not friends with me, stay away from me.

BUT THE INTERWEBS ARE NOT YOUR PILLOW: aka, you cannot sob into them and not be judged.  People judge you for the crap you post.  I judge you. If you post things like, “Glad I know who my real friends are” immediately after a life change— like moving out of house with roommates or getting married or going through a traumatic alien encounter— your friends will suspect you are talking about them.  You will never be able to convince them otherwise, because they will never ask, because you put it on Facebook.

Because despite the fact that we all stare at Facebook for something like 80% of our workday (broken up into 20-second increments)….we still don’t publicly acknowledge it for the most part in face-to-face interactions.  When someone says, “Hey, I got engaged!” standard response is not: “Duh saw it on your FB like 2 min ago.”  FOR GOOD REASONS LET’S KEEP IT THAT WAY.

Thx. Srsly. 4Reals.

MM

Dear Season Finales

25 May

Dear Season Finales,

Well. We’ve come to the end of another rocky year.  There have been ups, and downs, and highs and lows and all arounds…and no, I don’t watch Lost, so there won’t be any spoilers, and there also won’t be any analysis, and I’m very sorry for your loss (snicker. pun!)

I apologize for that. Anyway. I’m talking sitcoms. The Office. 30 Rock. Community.  Probably Parks and Recreation but I don’t watch that show.  Maybe Modern Family, but I also don’t watch that one (I know I know, I’m getting to it!)

The thing about finales is that there is so much darn pressure on them to do something fascinating and spectacular– but unless it’s a murder mystery or a soap opera, there aren’t a lot of dead bodies to bury (usually), not a lot of murderers to confront (usually), not a lot of brother-sister romantic pairings to reveal DNA to, etc.  Sometimes, there’s not even a seal-the-deal-already romance to give viewers a last, dizzying kiss of the season.

Relationships, especially in the newer sitcoms– like 30 Rock– are about as expendable as Jonathan is to Jack.  They disappear, they reappear, they crop up, they’re gone.  Same in Community.  Did anybody actually know that Annie was dating surfer-hair-hackey-sack-hippie (SHHSH) boy?  I mean, there was that one episode, where she liked him…but he hasn’t been in the last six or so.  Nor has she talked about him.  Or maybe she has.  But it wasn’t important!  And now, come finale time….

and we have fabricated “emotionally-charged” situations.  Annie is leaving with SHHSH, Jenna is breaking up with her me-boyfriend, yada yada yada.

The point is, sitcom season finales have all of the pressure to deliver high stakes drama and cliffhangers, and none of the build-up to wear like support hose when they get there.  They lose track of what has made them funny all season long and chase after implausible storylines (ahem Jeff and Brita and Slater and Annie– have you ever seen pairings with less chemistry???) like nail polish after a run in said hose.

Ahem. So the metaphor maybe doesn’t work, but neither do the season finales.

….but yes, I’ll be back next year.  I’m hoping Matt Damon makes (ir)regular appearances on 30 Rock for a long time to come (how awesome will that be?).  And Community, instead of fighting it, should embrace the fact that it’s one of the first (is it the 2nd, after 30 Rock?) sitcoms without a major romantic storyline between two of its main characters (proven once and for all: just because people are attractive does not mean they have any chemistry whatsoever. Thanks, Community. The scientists can now rest).  Just think, it won’t face the problem The Office now has: giving up the goods too early and losing a major source of interest for the show.

How DID Friends do it for so. many. years?

Love,

MM

Dear Thanksgiving

24 Nov

Dear Thanksgiving,

I would like to give thanks for:

1. Ok, well, guys, let’s start here– I am in school. I am a student. This means I LEARN THINGS all the time! And it’s what I’m supposed to be doing! I show up, I learn some things, I go home, I think about some things. I do not make coffee or sit in a cubicle all day or dig ditches. And for that, I am grateful. I mean, I don’t know, maybe you love your job digging ditches, and for that I thank you. I need ditches in my life probably. For culverts and stuff. Those seem useful, even if I can’t think of exactly why.

2. …FOR POETRY. I am in SCHOOL for POETRY. This means not only do I live the life of a student– and seriously guys, in case you’ve forgotten, that means like 2-3 hours of class a day and then….umm….drinking coffee and playing board games, mostly– but as a student, my main jobs are to read some things and then to write some things. This is what I do with my life. In fact, this is what I get to do with three years of my life. I would like to thank whoever thought up MFA programs, and whoever decided they were a legitimate way for people to spend their time, and my parents for supporting my dreams, and my heart for dreaming, and “last but not least, the wonderful crew from McDonalds who spend hours making those egg McMuffins without which I’d never be tardy” (Clueless? Anyone?). Ok. Well. Seriously. Thanks. I will be in my armchair reading some more words on a page. And writing some other words down sometimes.

3. Cookies. Baking. Dancing while baking. (DANCE-BAKE.) That doesn’t link to a definition of Dance-Bake. It links to my friend Kristen. Who is the definition of Dance-Bake. Anyway, Dance-Bake is pretty self-explanatory. You dance and you bake. Or you dance while you bake. Whatever. Put on some music, make some cookies, see what happens.

4. New Friends. Including ones that like to talk about poetry. And dance. And bake. And tease. And go to the beach. And sometimes play board games with me: bananagrams, chess, cribbage, Jenga. Yeah ok, it’s an odd list, but it’s what we’ve got. Next on the list: backgammon. Also: actually learn how to play chess, not just memorize (mostly) which pieces can move where. I’m working on it, ok?! It’s hard. Cut me some slack.

5. A seafood taco truck. You heard me. I’m not going to even tell you where it is. But I will say this: $1 fish tacos.

6. Bagels. I have a lot of bagels in my life. I love it.

7. Hillcrest. I have a lot of drag queens in my life. I love it.

8. My apartment. I love it.

9. The restaurants around my apartment. This really counts under both “Hillcrest” and “my apartment.” But the restaurants! So wonderful! Deserve their own listing.

10. The Dog. She’s my parent’s, but I get to see her sometimes, and she’s soft and cuddly and will let you haul her around with you like a stuffed animal (a really, really big, patient one).

11. Family. Hi guys!

12. Books. Who came up with books? High five.

13. Food.

14. Doughnuts. The real ones, not the vegan ones. Or Donettes. Not real but I am grateful for them anyway.

15. Health. HEAR ME, WORLD? I am grateful for my health! After four years of illness, sickness, ailments, infections, whooping cough, I am HEALTHY. And I appreciate it every day that I wake up feeling like I can tackle whatever comes along, that I can commit to plans whether they be today, tomorrow, or a month from now, that I can take on an extra class or extra work hours or sign up for yoga and not worry that it will go to waste. I appreciate every day that I can walk around breathing easily and thinking clearly, every day my body moves, jumps, stretches, breathes without pain.

16. The ocean. I live near the ocean. I try to remember to go see it at least once a week. Just to sit with it. It makes me happy.

So Thanksgiving, happy you to you.

Another year, another turkey (it’s such a boring meat! what is UP with having the most boring meat the centerpiece of the biggest food holiday of the year?)

With thanks and blessings and yams with marshmallows (of course that is my favorite part, obviously),

MM

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