sinslaidbare's Diaryland Diary ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- Love Letters. Note: Darling Max is going on a much needed, well deserved vacation for the next few weeks. Max's point of view will be back after he returns and recovers from what will undoubtedly be a near lethal combination of jet lag and entirely too many rum drinks with little umbrellas in them. No need to fear though, Zo� is still here, and is as opinionated as ever. A few weeks ago, an article in the "human interest" section of the news caught our eye. Basically, a guy asked a girl he met at a party out over email. That's pretty common nowadays, and shouldn�t have made news. Dear Joseph, May I call you Joe? Joe, I know this letter wasn't sent to me, but my heart sang when I read it. After all, who among us could have known that romance was not dead? Certainly not me, my dearest Joe, especially after splitting the dinner tab on dates as much as I have, having doors not held for me, chairs not pulled, and soppy boys who try to get romantic by asking for a shag only after they've vomited beer-and-Doritos on my brand new leather shoes. But I digress, darling. I see that you had wonderful romantic intentions, and for that, I commend you. More men should strive to be like you and wear their hearts on their sleeve. There would be many happier marriages if some men took the time out to tell their beloved that she was, indeed, beloved. But there's a difference here, precious, and it's a rather sizable one. This tactic does not work when one's only form of contact is through an ill-gotten email address. I repeat, it DOES NOT work. What will work, however, is your objet d'amour's forward button. Also, you may want to change your writing so that it doesn't sound like it was written by the Iraqi information minister. Just a little stylistic hint, you silly knave. With much affection, ~Zo� Okay, so maybe I was kind of hard on the poor guy. After all, he literally poured his heart out. Totally unfair to him that the girl forwarded it on to all of her friends, who forwarded it to their friends, until it had crossed the globe several bajillion times and left the poor fella both famous (yay!)and humiliated (boo!). That was downright bitchy and underhanded, and dear readers...don't be bitchy and underhanded. It's not becoming to hit that "fwd" button when the "delete" button would have worked just as well. I truly believe in saving face, and allowing others to do so as well. It's much more civil that way. I ALSO believe in knowing the difference between private thought and expressed thought, so I suggest you try this single question, multiple choice quiz. If you could learn the difference between inside voice and outside voice in kindergarten, you can do this. If you can't, I'm going to lose all faith in humanity and hole myself up in a cabin 200 miles from civilization, with only a Pocket Simon and an old flatulent dog as my companions. Ready? Okay. You're at a party. The person of your dreams says, "It was a pleasure to meet you". You: a) Say "You too!" and leave it at that. b) Toss your hair, smile, lick your eyebrows or do whatever flirty little thing you do, say "You too!" and leave it at that. c) Fall to your knees, mash together lines from every sonnet you learned in high school, and, regardless of gender, insist that you want to have your crush's babies. Now. On the Floor. Or you'll kill yourself. Of course, A or B are the proper answers, although I might have to dock a few points for any licking of the eyebrows. Still, I know a few too many people who would and do answer "c'. And on that note, you know where to find me. As long as desperate proclamations of love exist, you can just follow the smell of the dog. 3:48 p.m. - 2006-08-01 ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------- 0 comments so far |
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