Dear Stress

We've been through this so many times and we've had so many disagreements that I think it's time we discuss our relationship in the open. I don't think this is working out.

At the beginning, it was nice. Being with you made me feel mature. You and I just clicked, especially when I started taking Honors classes. It made sense for us to be together. Talking with you (but more often about you) to my friends seemed natural, even if I claimed to see you more often than I actually did. Being "stressed" was cool, and I felt cool about it. Somehow, the distance worked out.

But then you started coming around more often. You kept getting into my face. Things escalated when I started taking AP classes. Those late nights of homework when you came and hung out deprived me of sleep. Even without the homework, you and your pal Insomnia played Halo until dawn. You're around me constantly. It makes me unhappy. When you're near me, I break out with acne craters and pimple volcanoes. And during my monthly "episodes", your presence is unbearable. I'm always complaining about you to my family and friends. Even they're tired of it. I bought a little rubber ball to squeeze, because of you.

I've been unhappy for a while, Stress. It isn't you; it's me. I don't know how to deal with you. In fact, I spend most of my time trying to relieve myself...of you. I think it's best if we start seeing other people. Well, you already have, being with every other person in our grade (literally). Anyway, I found a new man. His name is Motivation and he has a Ferrari. So, bye, I guess.

Stress-free,

Your ex

P.S. Tell your creepy friend, Senioritis to stay away from me. He tried to pet my hair yesterday.

Dear Infomercials

Tired of being ignored? Sick of taking up valuable air time? Are your ads just being made fun of instead of being effective?

Introducing a new informercial cure-all! A regular commercial!

See, the problem is you're not fooling anyone. Having 30 minutes of advertising does not make your product any more legitimate than a 45 second clip. And pretending to be a cooking show or fashion talk show or a documentary it's pretty blaringly obvious that your substance is more sparse than a 10 second Chuck-E-Cheese spot. Our attention spans aren't quite what they used to be, so just give us the goods and get out. Remember: if we liked long commercials, we would've loved all the shameless product placement in Transformers. Hey, wait...

Now, I know 30 minutes at the dead of night might be a little cheaper than 20 seconds during prime time. Heck, you could probably run your commercial twenty times on a cable channel if you wanted. But it's kind of like buying things at Costco. Just becuase soap comes in forty packs doesn't mean you should buy it, because it may end up being the smelly, gritty, odd soap that no one likes and you might be stuck using it for five years, because you're too cheap to buy nice soap. And forget about trying to catch late-night viewers with a thirty-minute ad, because they probably don't value your programming quite as much as early morning cartoons or daytime soap operas. They might not even remember your revolutionary new way of cooking steaks, or your customer testimonies might put them back to sleep.

I'm pretty sure you could save money- money that could go into the advertising division, the people who answer phones, a new coffee machine, or MAKING YOUR PRODUCT USEFUL. Maybe selling them would be easier if they worked well? If they did what they were advertised to do? If you hired better actors to pretend they liked the product? You know what, forget about improving the product. If you're going to make commercials make them awesome-superbowl awesome. Two minutes of pure action or comedy or drama would really spice up late-night television between reruns of Transformers Animated. Take a hint from State Farm insurance. They had really serious commercials about how car crashes kill children on playgrounds and that scary man would ask "ARE YOU IN GOOD HANDS?????" and then they toned down the commercials and show montages of family barbecues and game nights and the scary man would smile and ask "ARE YOU IN GOOD HANDS???". This is the opposite of what you should do.

Starting with the cheesy, happy commercials, turn it into a die-hard horror clip. Like improperly cooked meat choking the unsuspecting suburban family and poisoning Fido! Or how about juice spills that trigger ghostly attacks and supernatural horrors! Then have a scary man ask "DO YOU HAVE SHAMWOW???". That would definitely wake up the insomniac watching "paid programming". Maybe enough to pick up a telephone within the next five minutes to get the other cheap side-along knock-off for free.

I'm not satisfied with my commercials and I'm always looking for ways to make them more palatable at all hours of the night. In short, I am open for an after-school job as an advertising exec whenever you need me.

Dear Santa Claus

Hey, so I'm somewhat on the fence here. I can't decide if I should believe in you or not. It's a little early to be sending you a letter, but I need to know whether I should even be asking you for gifts anymore.

I'm considered too old to believe in you. When Christmas rolls around, my eyes sparkle and I inhale the holiday spirit. Suddenly, I'm filled with all the joy of life and love and I list all the things I love about Christmas. "The decorations, the shopping, the dinners, the presents...and Santa!" Then, I get strange looks from my parents and whoever else is nearby, even my little brother. "Aren't you a little too old to believe in Santa?" Is there a cutoff age I'm not aware of? Is there a certain age when you stop believing in something? Will I randomly not believe that wearing my pajamas inside out will cause it to snow the next day?

Plus, it doesn't make sense for me to stop believing in you if nothing has proven otherwise. Every Christmas morning, I get up at 4:00, slip out of my room, and hurdle downstairs to check my stocking. Every year, I find a sleigh's worth of gifts stacked beneath the tree and a sackful of goodies spilling out of my embroidered personalized stocking. Did these gifts materialize out of thin air? No! Of course not! They were brought by a fat jolly red-suited man who silently landed on my roof with a vehicle pulled by flying reindeer, slid down my unused chimney, ate some food we left out for him, and dropped off presents wrapped in my parent's wrapping paper with our names written on them with my mom's handwriting. Perfectly logical. This has happened at every single house I've lived in, even the apartment without a fireplace. Santa's even been considerate enough to frame my Pirates of the Caribbean poster. He's brought me awesome video games, fashionable clothes, and even a digital camera! He's consistent and punctual, so why should I stop believing?

And if I do stop believing there is a punishment: No gifts. I don't think I should risk waking up Christmas morning to a measly two or three presents from my family. Ugh. My stocking will sag without being stuffed to the brim. I might be able to see the trunk of our fake Christmas tree unobscured by presents. I'm afraid of waking up to a living room as empty as the midnight party for the next Twilight book. And I mean empty as in, devoid of sane people. I can't not believe and take that risk. Besides, my little brother would never let me live it down.

In conclusion, Santa Claus, I intend to keep believing in you, whether that means I am taking away gifts from younger, more deserving children or I am merely exercising my first amendment right to believe in an elderly man who lives in the North Pole recruiting elves to make next year's Christmas goodies. In fact, I defy my parents and their mysteriously light wallets to stop me from sending you a letter. Oh! But this one doesn't count. I'll probably pass the character limit if I start my list now. Speaking of which, I've been very well-behaved this year (no felonies!), so I hope you'll remember to put me on your list and leave the coal at home.

Dear Significant Other

Please tell me we haven't met yet, because, if we have, then I'm disappointed.

You see, significant other, I have very high expectations for falling in love. These standards have only gotten worse over time. In order for you to better suit my needs (though you're already perfect, sweetie!), let me explain my warped perception of romance.

Disney is your first enemy. Prince Charming is a name and a literal description. The animated Adonis graced my television screen and won my heart. This happened often with men such as Prince Philip, Prince Eric, the Beast, Captain John Smith, Aladdin and Captain Shang. While royalty or a topless scene was a plus, it was their utmost devotion, unflappable hair, and ability to sing that made me fall head over Hello Kitty sandals. For my love story, I imagined a chance encounter, a princess gown, a cartoon animal sidekick, as well as some sort of enemy with sinister eyebrows. All this would be choreographed and set to music. Also, I would be able to sing and dance and run in heels. Disney set me up for a lifetime of disappointment.

Meaning even after I am dead, I will still feel the sting of shattered dreams. The next enemy to your success is books. Stephen Colbert warned me of their evil intelligence-inducing powers, and I am sorry I didn't listen sooner. Books provided a music-less version of Disney romance with a sprinkle of realism that just couldn't be achieved with 2D romances. Ella Enchanted, for instance, taught me that girls with unfortunate circumstances could marry royalty through a series of convenient coincidences. In Harry Potter, your boyfriend should carry around a short stick that can kill people with green flames. And the most deadly of all, Twilight, changed the way girls thought about boys. I'm not saying you'll have to compete with Edward's lack of common sense or Jacob's infantile passions. But I might seem a little disappointed when you don't sparkle in sunlight or if you can't change into a wolf and simultaneously strip naked. I never quite found interest in more serious romance novels (THE NOTEBOOK), but I'm sure it will also raise my expectations into the upper atmosphere once I get around to reading it. Which, at this rate, should be quite soon for a hopeless romantic like myself.

Manga and anime have also preemptively struck our significant other-ness, but because they are so similar to books and movies, I'll not go into detail. Plus, too many of them involve preteen love-making which is a major turn-off for me.

To ruin our relationship even further, I have also seen plenty of chick flicks. These are a very dangerous poison, because they involve live action fantastic love stories with scrumptious actors. Sure there are plenty of bad ones, but there are twice as many good ones. I have been intoxicated by the story of an intelligent, unique girl who falls for the nerdy, yet surprisingly sexy guy. I have been brainwashed by the awkward situations that blossom into fairy-tale weddings or very very significant high-school dances. I'm not even waltzing into the avenues of chick-flicks that I like! Regardless of the plot line, handsome male actor, or percentage of ethnic characters, each chick-flick has the same theme: Impossibly handsome guy and impossbily gorgeous girl impossibly fall in love. But usually I miss the word "impossible".

When I meet/bump-into/accidently kiss you, I hope the moment is so wonderful that I forget everything I think/thought I ever knew about love. Our relationship will survive my ridiculous hopes for love. You are an outstanding guy that makes me forget about princes, vampires, and Ryan Reynolds. As my significant other, you cannot help but sweep me off my feet. Right?

Dear Essay

Please stop making me feel dumb.

I know how to write. I learned my grammar, my spelling, my rhetorical devices, and even my vocabulary (although my vocabulary could be easily learned by any fourth grader). I even know that it is not correct to use contractions in formal writing, and I also know that "utilize" is overly pretentious and pedantic, though not quite as overly pretentious as "pedantic". I do not use obscenities, nor do I talk about crude topics. I also know that passive sentences ruin an essay, and an essay is improved by active voice.

What I do not know is what to write about. The advice I find says to write in my own voice, expressing my own ideas. But the problem is that I do not care much for my voice. I am not a big fan of what I have to say. Of course, I do not have much to go on, since I do not write much. But I do not have much confidence in using my own voice. I can not trust what it might do. For example, my voice might rant about how unfair it is that untalented teenagers can be pop idols while the talented ones are forced to blog about their miserable existences. Or it might lecture about how nice shiny objects are.

I like other people's voices. They are more articulate and predictable. I can trust them to state their ideas eloquently, yet concisely. They have impeccable diction and a unique perspective to share. I know enough about my voice to classify it as boring and uninteresting and unoriginal. I am like the first half of a friendship. I can establish common ground and prove myself to be normal (as opposed to a lunatic or maniac). But the other voices are like the second half: sharing interesting bits of themselves and creating a dynamic relationship. And then there is the mathematically incorrect third half when the friendship transforms into knowing the other person better than yourself to the point where even telepathy seems too predictable. I am not sure where this is going, but that is really what my voice sounds like.

But let us pretend I was to write you in my own voice. My voice tends to complain, rather than praise. So I will pick an appropriate topic, for example, "The Noise when a Plate is Scraped by a Fork". Ah, wait. That is passive. The topic shall be "The Noise when a Fork Scrapes a Plate". Better. Now I need to decide what I want to say about this topic. "The Noise when a Fork Scrapes a Plate" is annoying, frustrating, torturous, futile, abominable, and very very loud at awkward dinner gatherings that are already quite unpleasant. Now, I might continue the essay, but probably not. My voice will most likely decide to complain about the essay to friends, family, and the unlucky stranger for a few days before continuing to write. Then, in a midnight second wind, the essay will be hastily finished with numerous typos, a pathetic conclusion, and a sense of despair. The essay will be an elaboration on the theme "The Noise when a Fork Scrapes a Plate Displeases Me" with little significance or meaning to anyone. Although I do believe that many people would sympathize with it and send me packets of plastic forks to ease the pain.

Please help me help you. I know you want to be written and sent off to fancy journals, colleges, and teachers's desks. But I really can't do that if you make me complain before I write. The only solution I can think of is writing about complaints. So that's all I'll do, until someone or something teaches me otherwise. Complaining blogger, out.

Dear Online Gamers

I'm singling you out of the plethora of creepy Internet peeps, because I spend the most time with you all. Of all species of strange beings, I have studied you most carefully. I have acclimatized myself to your bizarre habitats and partaken in your rituals and customs.

So, my main concern with your existence is your lack of social skills. While the online gaming may be a symptom of an inability to socialize in real life, it still doesn't explain a corresponding inability to communicate in virtual life. It's frustrating that even though I can't see or hear you, you all often come across as being...socially untactful. It could just be one word or phrase that makes a normal conversation into something awkward. Here's an example from any MMORPG (massively multiplayer online role-playing game). [Quick Question: Should I be ashamed that I know that acronym?]

WinkThief: Hi. Trade iron axe for mace?

DRAGONxxSlayerxxBallinxxPwn: Wanna b gf/bf?

WinkThief: No. Mace please?

DRAGONxxSlayerxxBallinxxPwn: Plz be my gf?

WinkThief: So no trade, then?

DRAGONxxSlayerxxBallinxxPwn: Plz, u supah smexiii. 8D

WinkThief was unable to receive your chat.

WinkThief has logged off.

There are obvious problems with this conversation, but they might be invisible to you all. Let me illuminate the mistakes. First of all, address the trade. People playing online games are out there to use everyone else for their own means. Such activites include unfair trading, hacking, and starting relationships with desperate sad sacks to get money and rare items and one super sad sack of a slave. Second, keep in mind that meeting a fictional representation of another person does not entitle you to guess their actual gender or sexuality. It might be offensive to be asking "WinkThief" to be your girlfriend if "she" is into girls or "she" is actual a "he" or "she" could not give a flying firetruck about your emotional needs. Third, the use of "supah smexii" is absolutely unacceptable in any gaming conversation. That's just tacky, noob.

You might say, "Well, I never do that! I'm a nice gamer." Don't worry. You annoy me in other ways. Also, nice gamers shouldn't be reading this.

WinkThief: Hi. Join party?

DRAGONxxSlayerxxBallinxxPwn: %#@& u noob.

WinkThief: A simple "no" would've been fine.

DRAGONxxSlayerxxBallinxxPwn: Whatev u gay.

WinkThief: I'm not gay. Why, are you?

DRAGONxxSlayerxxBallinxxPwn: n00b u so gay

WinkThief: *sigh*

WinkThief has moved to channel 12.

Amazingly, it seems that most online gamers condemn homosexuality and connect it with low-level players. It's not fair to us straight people when it appears you only want to chat with people who are gay. But if you have confused "gay" with some sort of insult, please go check out a darn DICTIONARY. Also, their diction is lopsided, weighing more heavily on monosybyllic slang and obscenities. Please stop using such n00b vocabulary. Go back and check out that darn DICTIONARY again.

Have some social skills and learn to communicate properly. You don't have to use complete sentences or even complete words. You can even keep those creative methods of swearing; it's kind of fun watching people trying to get around moderated chatting. The whole point of "role-playing" is being something other than your usual selves, and I find it hard to believe that an articulate, well-adjusted person would choose to be inarticulate and awkward in a virtual game. I don't think I'm asking too much of you...just maybe +5 intelligence or so.

Dear Test Writers

Hey, there's something very important missing from your tests. Well, besides intelligible questions, sensible answers, and grammatically correct directions, your tests also lack a customer survey. I would love to see a little questionnaire at the end of every exam, just to see what us test-takers liked and disliked, so maybe there could be some improvement. Your labors are still impressive; nobody could ever guess the crazy nonsense you people write. But maybe if you had some feedback you could make your work even better...for both of us.

You could ask us to rate your test on a scale from Hot to Not. Or we could grade your test with the same scale you grade us ("Hey, you might've given me a C minus, but I gave you a big fat FAIL!"). We could leave a few constructive comments. Or we could just enter one for a chance to win an answer key to next year's exams.

Okay, I'm just going to come out and say it. The tests so far really BLOW.

No, I'm not talking about the ones I bombed or the ones that I aced. I'm talking about all of them collectively. Sure, test-taking is a purely negative experience, but those multiple-choice monsters you churn out surely don't brighten my day. Every test has a makeup of 15 % stupid questions, 60% hard questions, 20% trick questions, 4% mystery questions, and 1% dumb questions about percentages. In fact, I would give you everything out of my pockets if you found a test that was clear and reasonable. Of course, I have no pockets, so tough tidy whities. Also, your tests all give terrible impressions. Instead of telling someone how I think I did, I usually have to aim for the mid-lower spectrum answer, just to be in the ballpark. Or I have to say the opposite of what I feel. An, "okay, I guess" is my usual answer, unless your test was easy, in which case I would go with, "not a prayer."

Do you even proofread these? It's always the first time I've read these exams, and I can pick out three or four commonly confused diction or missing punctuation ones. My favorites are the misspelled conjunctions with the double last letter like "but" or "as". I especially like the confusing multiple choice answers when there are three choice A's. If a test-taker is really lucky, you'll give them a question with the answer...in the question. It was very un-thoughtful of you.

I'm sure it's a difficult job and I should be grateful that you (try to) give us students an opportunity to show off our knowledge, but, for goodness's sake, you might as well take us out underage drinking . You certainly don't show off our good sides, and we get major headaches afterwards. Making up test questions isn't fun, but if you'd give us a call we'd be glad to help. That's why the little surveys would be great! Instead of asking us what ethnicity we are or what languages we speak at home, wouldn't it be better to get some help with the exams? We'd be happy to write questions for you and we'll stop calling you racists. Plus, then we can't complain afterwards, right?

I just want to make one little itty-bitty minuscule suggestion: MAKE BETTER TESTS. Ask about stuff we know (or should know) and ask it in a way that makes sense to actual people. Even if it sounds good in your head, you should run it by...one of us. Just in case.