An open letter to Judy Blume

Are you there, Judy? It's me, Molly.


I'm not ashamed to say that I have been a reader for quite some time. You were inspiring during my formative years - you weren't afraid to tackle the hard-hitting issues of the day, and for that, I thank you. I'd like to say that your aptitude of dealing with middle school girls and helping them prepare for their bright futures was en pointe...but Judy, I would be wrong.


I feel like you should have prepared us much better.


Judy, in middle school I was bright eyed and bushy tailed and eager to take on the world of rainbows, cute boys next door and the promise of being a blossoming flower...blah blah blah. I feel like you left a lot out.

Yeah, I got a few things to tell you, Judy...

You said nothing of real world jobs, the trouble that is having your own health insurance, student loans, crazy stalkers and Craigslist Killers, fake british guys you unknowingly date, tequila, living in an area where there are 21 registered sex offenders in your immediate vicinity, and people that you try your darndest to friend-zone for everyone's well being without looking like a complete asshole...




Judy, you BARELY covered the basics. I went into this life like a lamb into the slaughter that had been  blindfolded while wearing noise canceling headphones. While you had me looking one way, the whole world was colluding in left field and then hit me in the face with a truth-filled baseball.

Aww, enlightenment. FEELS GOOD doesn't it, Blume?

Get your shit together, Judy. I expect revisions, new editions and you bet that I'll be looking for my name in the acknowledgments section. I'll also accept a dedication.


Fondly,
Molly


p.s. I really did like Superfudge though. Classic.

Craigslist Killer

Everyone wants it. You see that hot manski (or lady) over there in the corner, eye them from across the room and hope to strike up a conversation that leads to a glorious long term relationship filled with romantic getaways and lazy sundays gazing adoringly into each other's eyes...


Well, in reality this doesn't happen. Sorry.


Sometimes you just don't have enough time to strike up that conversation at the bar/party/grocery store...that's where the art of giving your number comes in handy.


I did such a thing (shocking, I know!). His name was "Joshua", and he was very attractive, educated, funny and nice. I received the first texts while I was in Massachusetts for New Year's, with my flight back down to where we lived in Virginia in two days. If we hit it off via text, why not see if there was any more chemistry?


The texts were charming in the beginning, as the night drew on they turned a bit strange. I wasn't too concerned, my good friend Jamie Foxx told me to blame it on the alcohol, and so I did. He's drunk, I figured. He couldn't comprehend why I wouldn't be in Virginia with him for New Year's, and kept trying to get me to switch my flight to that night (it was about 1:30 AM at that point).


Note: The conversation has been edited for privacy. I don't want him to find it and go all Craigslist killer on me, so most personal information has been deleted, but I assure you all texts are legitimate.


Note: No, I haven't seen the Lifetime movie yet. Yes, I'm absolutely dying to.


When I kept insisting that this wasn't possible, he switched to other tactics to guilt me into it...

modesty

I should have red-flagged this more seriously then. The next day, I got some stranger texts, mainly him talking about his father, and how he had died in February. I felt bad for the kid, I still didn't know him very well, but still, losing a parent must be hard. Well that was one giant Pandora's box that shouldn't have been opened.

Apparently, his father had "turned gay and left our family" to live in DC and do drugs. He said that he had gotten involved with some shady people and that things were pretty bad...at this point I was getting pretty concerned. If you don't really know someone, and you're attempting to date them, you probably shouldn't pull out your arsenal of dark and dirty family secrets immediately. Just sayin'

Uh oh.

So by now, little red flags show up in my mind every time my phone indicates I have a new text. I rarely respond to them now, but when I do it's usually pretty vague or generic so as not to encourage anything while still attempting to be polite. Yeah, that doesn't work FYI. Pretty soon, he was inviting me to google his father's obituary.

Yes, Joshua. Really freaked out.

I am no longer responding at this point, but if I do it's a subtle hint that he shouldn't be saying these things to me. I don't want to be rude, but it's late, I'm tired and my flight is in the morning. This doesn't stop him though, he continues to soldier on.

Sweet Jesus there is NO way I'm calling.

Now he's finally noticing that I'm no longer responding. He moves on to more bold moves and begins trying to evoke sympathy from me. He tells me that his grandfather is in the hospital and that it's "lonely in this waiting room with no pretty girls to hold my hand". I'm not falling for it. An hour or so goes by and I get the text I've been dreading (and not just because he has suddenly decided to call me "babe")...

NO, I didn't ask him what the mean thing was. Ignorance is bliss.

Well, I'm not a monster. I just lost both of my grandfathers within weeks of each other, and this is a huge soft spot for me. 

Wait...what?

Now, I'm no medical expert, and it's clear that Joshua isn't either, but generally if you're:

A. In the hospital with him

B. Listening to the doctors

C. Sober

D. Past the age of most kindergartners 

...you can probably figure out within the past seven hours if your beloved grandfather is dead or not. 

That's it for me. I'm done now. I don't care. That's pretty low. Again, I stop responding and a few days later I hear my phone buzz while I'm sleeping.

Weary? Yeah, that's one word for it.

Here's a tip for all the single ladies out there - if a guy has to tell you that he's "totally safe", there's a 90% chance that he isn't. 

So here we are, days later. Still no responses from me, yet his crusade continues. Now he's taken to drunk texting me nonsense at 3:50 AM. Lovely.

So the next time you see that cute guy you don't know very well and you want to slip him some digits, think twice. Sure, I'm safe and sound now, however there was a large probability that I would've ended up featured in his bedroom as his newest lampshade. I'm rather attached to my skin (har har) unfortunately, and as such I say "Good day, to you sir" Joshua, and wish you all the best on your quest for a ladyfriend with which you can make a charming addition to your living room set.

2010, A Swan Song

So, let's be real for a minute.


The internet is probably flooded with first time bloggers (i.e. yours truly) who are fixing to actually accomplish some sort of new year's resolution. I can't say I'm not one of them, but I would like to acknowledge that yes, I get it. Let's see how long this lasts.


That being said, let's discuss the whole topic of new years. A new beginning, a fresh start, blah blah blah - it's the same thing every year. Everyone suddenly despises the year we've just completed and can't wait for this next one, as if there is a literal blackboard being wiped clean of mistakes and indiscretions.


New Years isn't like a baptism (as some people on my facebook newsfeed and twitter seem to think), it's merely marking another year passing. Nothing changes but you. This is how I think of it - everything that has happened so far has happened, you can't change that. What you can do is build upon it to get where you want. Good luck and have fun building everyone, I can't wait to see what progress we've made a year from now.


Resolutions:
1. Live fearlessly
2. Obligatory health resolution
3. Take everyday one day at a time
4. Learn a language and/or become fluent in the one's I've already studied
5. Take more time to have fun




2010, it's been real. I learned a lot, became a college graduate, moved far from home, became a grown up, lost more loved ones than I could have imagined in a short amount of time, and countless other life artifacts. I don't blame you 2010, but let's see if we can improve on this.


In the meantime, I'll continue living my crazy transplanted life, and do my best to document what I can. I've tried diaries and journals throughout the years with no success, but maybe this is what I need. Who knows if anyone will read it, but it'll be nice for me to have it to look back on one day. So here we go again.


Insanity n. - Doing the same thing over and over again and expecting different results.
    - Albert Einstein


Lock me up, boys...