Saturday, July 17, 2010

Dear Social Media Models...

I was really going to post this to Twitter, but, damn it, 140 characters just isn't enough. 
So, young ladies, please hear me out:  
You're beautiful. You're gorgeous. You're even hott (with TWO t's, nonetheless) and you've taken a couple of cute pictures. But... are NOT a model.  
Modeling takes skill. Training. Dedication. Much more than a few iPhone shots in a bathroom mirror speckled with toothpaste.  
So, take the photo comments and RTs of your twitpics for what they're worth and, then, #GoSitDown!  
I promise it's not hate. As a matter of fact, it's because I LOVE you all so much that I refuse to let you continue looking like fools without doing something about it. 
And, while you're doing something sensible anyway, like taking the word "model" out the Occupation section of your profile, put on some clothes. #PleaseAndThankYou  

Love, Ophelia

Saturday, April 17, 2010

Dear Hot Pocket Crisper...

Dear Hot Pocket Crisper,

You're a liar. You claim to be able to make my beloved Meatball and Mozzarella Hot Pocket not only hot, but crispy and more delicious, with your fake foil lining and prolonged instructions. But, in reality, you just burn the very edges, making my once-satisfying lunch sandwich thingy a veritable brick of crust on the outside and a mess of lava-hot goo on the inside. And your "handy" perforated edges designed to help me "fold" you into a device worthy of caressing my edible pouch of goodness - we both know it is but a cruel joke. I attempt to manipulate you into the correct shape only to burn the tips of my fingers and drop my precious pastry onto the floor and cry sad, hungry tears of regret.

You suck.

Love, Ophelia

Wednesday, March 31, 2010

Dear Procrastination...

Dear Procrastination,

What a fun week we have had together! Graphic design projects have gone unfinished, dishes have accumulated into precariously stacked mountains, and blogs have gone un-updated -  all for the sake of spending some well-deserved time with you.

And what, exactly, did we end up doing during our long-awaited visitation? Watched a few episodes of The Office. Ran our mouths on the phone. Clicked through a gazillion newly uploaded Facebook pictures (of friends of friends, of course!) and, basically, sat on our rapidly expanding asses. It was a blast!

But, today, Procrastination, you're going to have to pack your fashion magazines, new nail polish, and fast food and get the heck out of here - please? I have a lot of catching up to do.


Sunday, March 21, 2010

Dear Spring Cleaning...

Dear Spring Cleaning,

It's about that time, isn't it? I know you hate to see me coming just as much as I hate the fact that we have to do this year after year, but it's time to face facts; in my crappy-weather-induced wintery hibernation, I've become somewhat of a slob.

Laundry has gone undone for record amounts of time. Cobwebs have been allowed to form in forgotten corners. And the backyard has been an oasis for weeds and critters that I'm not even fully prepared to imagine yet. But if I'm to have friends over for crawfish boils and random picnics, cupcake tastings, and other frivolity associated with my impending Spring Fever, then I've got to don some gloves and a scarf and get to scrubbin', weedin', and dustin' the places that I've let go over the last few months.

So, let's be civilized about this, Spring Cleaning. I'll try to get this over with as soon as possible, and you hold off on all those little "surprises" you like to pull -  just this once.

No turning up old, forgotten gym socks behind the hamper. No obnoxiously territorial lizards in the flower bed. And if you could curb the dust situation just a tad - I'm already fending off the oak pollen right now and I'm not sure my sinuses can take it.

You're a real pal, Spring Cleaning. The kind I like to see only once a year just so I can say that I've talked to you and all is well, but not enough to make you a part of my "inner circle." You know, like that one girl from middle school that still remembers my phone number...? Yeah, her. Heck, you should probably give her a call, too. Tell her I said hi.

Love, Ophelia

Dear Readers...

Dear Readers,

Thank you! I'm so excited that people are reading and giving me feedback on the blog! Y'all are just great :)

I'm really going to do my best to have the Daily Dear... actually be ::gasp:: daily, so I'll be archiving the older ones under the Daily Dear page that you can access from the nav-bar right about the regular posts.

Also, now that I've been visited by the Media Card Fairy I'll be able to take and post random pictures that inspire my letters so that we can all share in my crazy together! Fun, eh?

Take care, and keep reading! Heck, tell your friends. And you enemies. And your mama'n'dem!

Love, Ophelia

P.S. You see those lovely links in the right column of the page?! Those are a few blogs that I've worked on lately belonging to some great NOLA musicians that I've been fortunate enough to become friends with. Suave has a great new project out - The Hip Hop Soul Revival - and I suggest that, even if you don't normally consider yourself a Hip-Hop fan, you check it out. Honestly, the music defies categorization and it's usually what I'm bumpin' when I post! Thank me later...

Saturday, March 20, 2010

Dear Internal Clock...

Dear Internal Clock,

You have got to be kidding me! Three nights ago, you knew I had to wake up early for an appointment, but you purposely reset yourself so that 11pm really felt like 7pm and I couldn't fall asleep. Then, when morning finally came, you attempted to convince me that, though my BB obviously said 9am, it couldn't have been much later than 6:30 in the morning. Tired and cranky, I dragged myself out of bed anyway, cursing your name and vowing to make up for it this weekend.

Now, it's Saturday. I could guiltlessly lay here in bed 'til half past noon, if I so choose. No breakfast to make, no meeting to attend, no dog to walk. But you! You wake me up at 7am - after a meager 4 hours of slumber - and I feel so damn refreshed I could just spit!

Where do you get off, huh? What kind of sadistic pleasure do you get out of ruining the ONE morning I get to languish in bed for hours to my little fatigued heart's content?

I really want to give you a piece of my mind right now; call you all sorts of nasty names, make fat jokes about Yo Mama, the whole nine yards. But I'm a 23-year-old female and I know how close you and my Biological Clock are - and I just don't need that kind of trouble right now.

Consider this a warning: Tomorrow is Sunday and I don't wanna hear a peep out of you until well past midday!

Love, Ophelia

Wednesday, March 17, 2010

Dear Media Card Fairy...

Dear Media Card Fairy,

Thank you! I must admit that, up until this morning, I wasn't sure that you actually existed. I had heard tales of BlackBerry users who had pulled connection cords too early, screwed up their media storage device, and, after invoking your assistance, found that their beloved pictures, ringtones, voicenotes, and the like were returned in pristine condition.

But it had been six whole days, Media Card Fairy. I was beginning to get worried! I couldn't take pictures, my ringtones were annoying and tinny, and I felt like a Grade A technology schmuck. On day four, with a generic meadow scene as my home screen instead of my favorite picture of my favorite person, I was ready to give up all hope. It was only my characteristic procrastination that kept me from reformatting the card on my computer and starting all over again. And thank goodness for that.

This morning, I pulled my treasured cell phone from underneath my pillow to answer a call and, upon hanging up, noticed an adorable face grinning back up at me. Could it be? I hurriedly scrolled over the my media folder and, behold! Embarrassing pictures of my boyfriend, unnecessary shots of my newly painted toes, radio quality ringtones, and voicenotes of me singing Maxwell songs to myself in the car. Everything was there!

So, thank you, kind Media Card Fairy. Never again will I doubt your benevolence. But, from now on, I will disconnect my device correctly from my computer, just in case.

Love, Ophelia