Monthly Archives: June 2011

Dear Weather in Texas

Dear Weather in Texas,

I don’t know if you quite realize this, but you are not, in fact, the weather in Chennai, India, the Sahara Desert, or the surface of the sun.  You are in Texas.  Now that I’ve cleared that up, I hope there is no more confusion.

Please revert to non-broiling-my-skin-while-I’m-still-alive-and-kicking weather.

Sincerely,

Chelsea


Dear Rhett Butler Salt Shaker (a requiem)

Dear Rhett Butler Salt Shaker,

I first saw you on the shelf of a thrift store with you counterpart, the Scarlett O’Hara Pepper Shaker.  I was initially apprehensive about buying you, but when I saw your 65-cent price tag, I felt it was too good of a deal to pass up.  You have been a part of my life ever since.

Until tonight.

The night was coming to an end.  I was about to turn in when I decided to grind some coffee.  If only I hadn’t been set on having a delicious, homemade, coconut-mocha frappuccino in the morning, you might still be with us.  However, I did grind the coffee and as I pulled the coffee grinder off of the counter to put it away, you became caught in its cord and fell to the floor, landing in a heap of shattered plastic and non-iodized table salt.

I feel a great sense of remorse in losing you.  If only I hadn’t been so haphazard with the coffee grinder.  If only I had put you away when I was finished using you earlier in the day.  If only…if only… My regrets run deep.

I’m not entirely sure how Scarlett O’Hara Pepper Shaker will react when I tell her the news of your demise.  You have been her constant companion for many years.  I imagine that she’ll say something along the lines, “Where will I go? What will I do?” which are questions to which I don’t have answers.  I also wonder what I will do with one less salt shaker in my life.  However, I have a feeling that, as you sit shattered in a garbage bag on the curb outside, your response will be a bit different than hers or even mine.  Your bitterness at being so poorly loved and so poorly taken care of is probably taking over.

In fact, my dear, I feel as if you frankly don’t give a…well, you know.

Sincerely,

Chelsea


Dear Tastebuds (part two)

Dear Tastebuds,

You and I have had quite the tumultuous relationship. In fact, I began this blog by writing a letter to you requesting that you return home after you had left in a fit of rage.  This letter is different, however.  In this letter, I’d like to kindly ask that you back off.

I try to treat you right.  I really do.  Yes, there is the occasional boiling ginger tea incident.  And, yes, over the years I have subjected you to the horrors of various curries, jalapeños, homemade sports drinks, and most recently, about half a teaspoon of straight citric acid.  But, none of these actions deserve the treatment I am currently receiving.

Your growing sensitivity to salt is something I can no longer handle.  I am now unable to eat any food that has been over-salted and eating fast food has become a bit of a chore.  Anything that is a little high in its sodium content now seems to be inedible to me.

I ask that you calm down and allow me to eat salty food if need be.  I am not asking to be able to do this all the time; I just need to be able to swallow some food if it happens to be saltier than usual.

Thank you in advance for complying to my demands.

Sincerely,

Chelsea


Dear Plants, Flowers and Other Greenery

Dear Plants, Flowers and Other Greenery,

I am writing this letter to clarify why I repeatedly purchase you and subsequently kill you. I want you to know that these are not, in fact, my actual intentions. I love plants and flowers and greenery of most kinds. However, as I was watering my wilted basil plant this morning, my eyes fell to the dried-up, dehydrated and dead mint plant I had purchased only a month ago, and I realized that you probably think this is purposeful.

I cannot even begin to fathom the horror you feel when I walk through your section of the store.  I’m sure you’ve heard the legend about my herbicidal mania and the excitement I feel when I am able to torture and kill plants of every variety.  I can almost hear the quiet hush that settles over you as I walk the aisles, carefully choosing my next victim.  You know what will happen if I pick you, so I’m sure you do your best to look partially wilted or eaten up by bugs.  When I choose my next victim, the rest of you probably sigh in a mixture of relief that you weren’t picked and horror for whoever was.  You know the fate of the plant in my hands, and it isn’t pretty.

The above paragraph is a story which many of you probably believe.  I want to dispel that myth if at all possible.  Yes, I do repeatedly purchase plants, and those plants do end up dehydrated or over-watered or sunburned or eaten up by a variety of bugs.  However, none of this in intentional.  I actually do make an attempt to keep every plant I purchase alive for as long as possible.

I know the fact that I keep doing the same thing repeatedly probably makes it seem as if I am covering up my nefarious intentions.  The fact that I managed to kill an aloe plant, bring it back to life, and kill it again probably compounds the struggle you may face in trusting me.  But, I assure you, no harm done to any plant in my hands was purposeful.

Yes, removing an aloe plant from the soil in which it lived and placing its roots in a jar of water for two months may have seemed akin to the torture used to exact information from insurgents, but I promise I was just trying to revive it.  And, yes, placing a shade begonia on my balcony in Texas in the middle of July for days without water or any human contact probably appears to be the act of a crazed sadist, but I simply forgot about the plant entirely.  I wasn’t intentionally causing it harm; it was merely neglect.

That is what many of the plant deaths boils down to, Plants, Flowers and Other Greenery.  You are different than a dog or a cat who will bark at, sniff or claw the heck out of me if I don’t feed them.  You aren’t like a car with a Check Engine light or even like a shoelace which, when untied, will annoy me by flopping about until I tend to it.  You are silent and passive, waiting for me to remember to water you and give you appropriate amounts of sunlight, which is something I simply have a hard time doing.

This is no fault of your own.  You are just being true to your planthood.  I do take sole responsibility for every plant whose life my irresponsibility has claimed.  But, I just want to know that these deaths have not occurred because of a sick a twisted mind; they are simply the result of a girl who forgot them in their quiet ways.

Please don’t paint me as a sadist to your friends and children.  A poor soul who can’t seem to learn that she can’t keep plants alive, perhaps, but not one who enjoys the torture and death of greenery.

Sincerely,

Chelsea


Dear Pill Bugs

Dear Pill Bugs That Appear Inexplicably All Over the Floor of My House,

Where are you coming from?  Some sort of creepy lair filled with creepy pill-bug-made tunnels under my creepy ceramic tile flooring?  You pop up out of nowhere and crawl all over the floor of my house, and then you just die.  For no reason.  I don’t understand what your angle is, Pill Bugs.  Are you attempting a siege on my house?  You’ve accomplished nothing if this is the case.  You’ve gained no ground, captured no prisoners and caused no one to surrender.  You’ve simply curled up and died in various crevices of my house, leaving your creepy, roly-poly exoskeletons everywhere.

Is this some sort of passive resistance thing? Because I think you might be failing.  You may want to reconsider your land-seizing techniques.  I don’t foresee you gaining a house or even a 12″x12″ piece of tile if you keep using the methods you are currently favoring.

Sincerely

Chelsea


Dear Oxford Comma

Dear Oxford Comma,

For much of my life, I have despised you.  In the past, I have felt that I was too good to use you in my writing.  In some ways, I still feel that way.  You look unnecessary and purposeless and I truly loathe you.  You also make sentences look like fragments written by an insane person.  These are the reasons I avoid using you at all costs.  In fact, until recently, I never used you.  I would venture to guess that placing you in my writing only began to occur in the last few months.

I would love to continue to shun you, but unfortunately when I write out a sentence such as “This piece of art is dedicated my brothers, Doritos Nacho Cheese tortilla chips and fluoridated toothpaste,” I am reminded that I must use you to make it clear that my brothers are not, in fact, an MSG-laden snack nor a chemically-infused dental hygiene product.  So I have to wedge you into my sentence to make my point, the result being, “This piece of art is dedicated to my brothers, Doritos Nacho Cheese tortilla chips, and fluoridated toothpaste.”

This is all fine and good. You are useful in instances such as this. However, I still find you cumbersome and downright unnecessary most of the time. But, consistency is important to me, so if I’m going to use you in the above sentence, I feel compelled to use you in less ambiguous sentences as well. This results in sentences such as,  “My favorite hobbies are reading, writing, and muskrat training,” in which your presence is less than welcome.

I honestly just wish you would die, Oxford Comma.  I think removing you from existence would encourage people to use their logical reasoning skills and study more.  I also think that I hate you.  A lot.  I’ve always hated you, and now I hate you even more for forcing me to use you in all listing situations to avoid the accusation of inconsistency.

Please leave, never come back and maybe cease to exist.

And, yes, I will be leaving that sentence as is.

Sincerely,

Chelsea


Dear Church Family

Dear Church Family,

I just wanted to take the time to inform you all of just how much I love and appreciate you.

To the elders: your leaderships skills are like none other. I am continually amazed at the level of integrity found in your actions, and I appreciate your tenacious love for the Bible quite a lot.  You are truly men following wholeheartedly after the Lord and I am very thankful that He has found it necessary to place you in my life.

To my dear brothers: thank you very much for being protective over your sisters in Christ.  I appreciate the consideration with which you treat each and every one of us ladies.  I am always excited to see the ways in which the Lord is growing you to become stronger men of God.  It is encouraging in many ways.

To my lovely sisters: thank you for being listening ears, watchful eyes, comforting shoulders and a myriad of other things.  Thank you for the lessons you have taught me through example, correction, teaching and following.  You are my dearest ones, the ones closest to my heart, and I am quite glad the Lord has brought you into my life.  I am thankful for you loving correction when I’ve done something wrong, for your encouragement when you see positive growth in my life and for your quite guidance in the everyday things.  I so appreciate fellowshipping with you.

I am very thankful for all of my church family.  It is through them that I have begun to learn how godly friendships begin and last.  Thank you all for allowing the Lord to work in your lives.  I am glad that you are a part of my own.

Sincerely,

Chelsea