It's all about context

"TAKE OFF YOUR BRA!"= sexy, if said in the bedroom.

"TAKE OFF YOUR BRA!"= not sexy if my co-worker and I are yelling it at a client who is hiding drugs under her breasts.

All in a day's work.
love,
p

TYB (B = Boss)

because I can't control myself

P-- my newest favoritest thing is to spend hours online looking at neato crafts on etsy. It's an extraordinary opportunity for "one for me, one for p" shopping. I just bought these for me and p so we can be twinners:

And it's not even wishful thinking anymore: your almost-half-birthday gift is completely wrapped save the newspaper that will keep it from rattling too much. Why the 5 month delay? I don't even know. Call me unconventional.

I love you and would enjoy knowing which pendant you enjoy more. I like them both the best, so you decide.

Many kisses and cupcakes and juicy juice,

p

makeover

Dearest P,

Today's Wikihow is "how to be charming." Ah ha! I've been waiting for a project and one has magically fallen into my lap. I know very few people who couldn't benefit from brushing up on their charm. Most notably are a few meth-addict-gang-members I know. I'm not sure, but I think that charm may not be an important quality to them. For shame! I wish some people would just get over it and be adorable all the time. Okay, really? Let me present some of the how-to highlights for your consideration. Please have a garbage can or plastic lined handbag ready for barfing purposes (if you are short on time, look for the italicized passages):



Relax the muscles in your face to the point where you have a natural, pleasant expression permanently engraved there. For some people, it helps to dwell on something or someone that makes them happy.

Make a connection. When your eyes come in contact with another person's, nod and smile subtly with a subdued joy shining forth. Don't worry about the other person's reaction and don't overdo it.

Control your tone of voice. The tone of your voice is crucial. Most people feel insecure somewhere inside and have an inability to accept praise. For this very reason, when you praise, do it subtly and glibly. When you say, "you look nice today" it should be in the exact same tone that you would use to say "it's a nice day." Any variation from your normal tone will arouse suspicion about your sincerity. And since you will be trying hard to be a breezy, caring, happy personality, your eagerness will come across in both simple and complimentary talk. Practice giving compliments into a recorder and play it back. Does it sound sincere? Whether your praise is true or not, it must sound sincere! Practice until you get it right.

The degree of charm that you possess depends on the creativity of your praise. Say something that is not immediately obvious and say it in a poetic way. It's good to have some premeditated compliments and phrases but the most charming people are able to invent them on the spot. This way, you can be sure that you are not repeating it.

Every so often you will have no choice but to express an opinion that few others hold (to adhere to the honesty policy). You must do it in a humorous way. Humor is the teaspoon of sugar that helps the medicine go down.

Never argue. Remember if half of the people who hear your argument agree and half disagree, you have failed at being charming. What you say must be pleasing to 100% of the people who will hear it, whether they hear it directly from you or not.



I don't know about you, but I feel like recording my compliments ASAP. I've been running a "healthy body image group" at work and I'm pretty sure, now that I've read these tips, that body image is a complete waste of time. We're starting "how to be charming group" today!



fucking shit, dude! (do you feel the subdued joy shining forth?)

love you,

p

I'm rededicating my life to the blog: a photo essay without the essay

Dear P,
To show you that I am beginning afresh with the blogging business (everyone LOVES our blog), I thought I'd illustrate how deeply fascinating my life has been. That I have stashed these stupid pictures just to show you what I'm up to is maybe more illustrative than the pictures themselves.


Saw "The Shooter" Saturday night with my own sexy sniper.

Surprisingly not a waste of $1.75 each ($1 movies are no more).

Reese's Pieces + Mark Wahlberg = TLA

The book I'm reading. Extremely disappointing and yet I can't give up yet. Suggestions?

The computer mommy and daddy bought me that came with a faulty hard drive and is sitting in its box. Hooray, Dell! ("another winner" my ass)







A mouse eating its chair.

This is who should play you in the movie of your life (and the photo even has the mood right).

The most depressing movie I've rented in years. If this is a dark comedy than boiling puppies alive must be light comedy.

The bag I must have for my new non-functional laptop.

Who I wish would play me in the movie of my life.

Light comedy without the boil.

Remember The Cranberrries? I look a little like Dolores O' Riordan, no?

Craig Ferguson talked about his alcoholism on his show not so long ago and it was sad and funny and very moving. He's my new hero.

And animate Japanese dessert treats.

Whatcha been doing, sweetheart?

Loves and kisses,

p

a safe place.

Dearest P,

I won't even pose the question, "do you have certain objects or sounds or smells or textures or foods that are inexplicably calming-- and do you rely on them when you feel very sad or lonely or scared?" because duh. I guess everyone does, but I also know you are slightly ritualistic and have little "way things are" that are soothing to you.

I know that you are blue. I know this is a hard time with a big world and a teeny pea and a sailor way far away. I want to share some of the things that my grandma gave me that still make me feel safe and sound. They are mostly memories from her apartment in New Jersey that was in an urban area-- not so far from you. When we visited, I slept in Grandma's room with her-- she had twin beds with silky gold and green comforters that smelled a little of smoke and Jean Nate perfume. My grandma was a darling little woman who was graceful and delicate and powerful and, until she had cancer, wore her beautiful long silver hair in a tight bun with a tortoiseshell clip. She always tried to get me to talk into tape recorders, but even though I adored her, I was painfully shy. I wish now that I hadn't been. But now I still have some magical things from my grandma that you would love too. I know this-- she would have adored you too.

• she believed in the power of pyramids and constructed perfect pyramids out of cardboard boxes and packing tape which she placed under every bed.



• she slept with the window cracked open so the street sounds (very foreign to me then) became the most comforting sounds I now know.



• those searchlight things (that rotate around and now I only ever see them on the top of the Luxor resort) swooped around and caught the corner of the room. Always. Never failed.



• she kept a little stash of snacks-- mostly chocolates-- in her bedside table so she could snack throughout the night. She was so birdlike that it was positively elegant when she broke off a tiny bite of chocolate at 3 am. and one, if one is not a slob, can keep tiny snacks in one's bedstand if one wishes. and should do so immediately.



• my favorite (and the sensation which is most poignant still) is her little radio, tuned to am talk radio, turned low, but babbling all night long. Nothing is better for soothing sadness. If you need, take a little radio (ipods are no good for this because they just aren't the same) and crawl under the blanket. Turn the radio down so you can just make out the words and turn the dial until you find either a) the BBC World News or b) a baseball game or 3) a staticky am talk show



• try this: mix yellow raisins with dry roasted peanuts and put them in a pretty china bowl. eat no more than 7 or 8 at a time. but go back frequently. she did this-- always had a bowl of this delightful concoction.



• limeade (if you're a kid), gin and tonic if you're grandma.

There are ten million things I would say about her and about how strange it is that these experiences, which really only solidified when I was in early adolescence, came after my grandfather's death and my grandmother became sick. I do not remember well the times when she was not sick. That's stored in a musty old book in my being somewhere. And it makes sense now that I would have been desperately looking for comfort, therefore the smallest sounds, smells (gas stoves are another soothing smell), tastes, would be fodder for comfort.

If I could take you there in a time machine, I would. We would find her enormous stash of costume jewelry and her lipstick in pink cases and we'd sneak a peek at her amazing hair when she finally let it down for the night... I want you to have some peace and comfort in your big world-- a small nest, perhaps, where you can wrap yourself up tight and feel safe knowing that the power of the pyramid is, indeed, emanating from under your bed.

I love you. Let me know what you need.

your pea.

also THIS for you...

a knitted dinner.

love you,

p