Open letters, volume 2

Perfectly Cursed Life does a regular series of Open Letters on Fridays letting off steam. You can see them all here, or my first installment, here.

Dear intern,

I am deeply, deeply mortified that I called you Rebecca, not Rachel, on your first day. To my shame, I still find myself starting to type in ‘rebecca’ in the recipient line of emails to you. And I realised I referred to you as Rebecca when talking about you to a coworker. I have no idea what is wrong with me (this is truly a first), and you were kind enough to reassure me that it’s a common mistake that you are well and truly used to (nobody should be conditioned to respond to a different name!) but I will console myself with the fact that a blogger I’ve read for years actually named her blog after this very bizarre affliction.

Humbly yours,

Worst supervisor ever

____________________________________________________________

Dear CBM,

I understand that I gave you permission to email spam me after I made a donation to you. But sending me an email with this subject line utilising my own name (even though no doubt it is merely a coincidence) is the HEIGHT of creepy. For the rest of you, substitute the name for your own first name, and imagine seeing that in your Gmail inbox – what would your reaction be?

 

 

This is how the rest of the email went:

Yours,

Bemused of Auckland, New Zealand

____________________________________________________________

Dear rabid American on Facebook

I do not wish to engage in America-bashing. The US has plenty to brag about as the pre-eminent top dog in the first world. However, I am not sure race relations is one of them. Yes, New Zealand has its own race problems. Inequality is very real; Maori and Pacific Islands are at the bottom of every conceivable socio-economic measure. There’s an outcry everytime a Chinatown is proposed in Auckland (as a Chinese Malaysian, I don’t really care; I agree that we could simply designate THAT stretch of Dominion Rd). Yes, the colonial Brits screwed over Maori in some ways, and the Waitangi Tribunal is testament to that. But they didn’t enslave an entire race of people (or fight for the right to continue to do so) and while I don’t know much about Native American history, it’s far from all rosy (what indigenous people/white settler story is?).¬†In a global context, I actually think Aotearoa is doing okay; there are no race riots or stealing of indigenous children in these annals.

Chur,

A fellow non-indigenous person blithely discussing treatment of indigenous people

____________________________________________________________

Dear pyjama pants,

Why must you always ride up to knee-height once I am under the covers and trying to fall asleep?

Love,

Princess without a pea

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Dear ponce who invented the air kiss

What were you thinking? This week I experienced the horror of a handshake that unexpectedly segues into a stepping-in-and-brushing-of-cheeks. Caught off guard, I leaned too far in and a practically audible bumping of heads ensued. Oh, the shame.

Curses on your grave,

A member of the lower class

____________________________________________________________

Dear Seesmic

I understand and respect your need to make money. Freemium is where it’s at these days (although it’s a dangerous game to start with an awesome product and then cut back on features for the non-paying customers). This does not mean I am happy about your recent changes, and I have quietly started feeling out other options for social media management of work accounts. Our time together may be drawing to a close.

(Tweetdeckers! Can one change the colour scheme of the web version of Tweetdeck?! Help!!! I’ve never liked Tweetdeck but now feel compelled to give it another try.)

What would you like to get off your chest today?

5 thoughts on “Open letters, volume 2

  1. Dear beer from last night –
    I’m sorry that I got so excited during the game that I jumped up and made a lot of you spill out of the can. It was unthoughful of me and wasteful of you. Next time I will try better to contain my excitement or anger during games so that you will not spill everywhere and be punished by my actions.

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