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Dear Dr. G:

Hello, and I hope you are doing well since I last saw you at AEJMC. I’ve been thinking about you lately for a strange reason.

You once called me a dilettante, which made me mad at the time. It wasn’t really accurate for the situation (as I recall, you were upset with me because you wanted me to focus solely on my doctoral work, but I wanted to keep my full-time job, you know, so I could eat and have shelter).

La dilettante

I know your heart was in the right place, and that you were, in your own way, showing confidence in my ability to do scholarly research full time.

Though it may seem like I am a dabbler, it’s not that at all. It’s the opposite, actually. I throw myself into something fully, learn as much as I can, then I move on to something else. More short attention span than dilettante.

sorry-attention-span-length-apology-ecard-someecards

That’s why I have five degrees (yes, five). It is also why my résumé looks like the life of eight different people.

If I could, I’d have more jobs (in addition to the one I have now, which I love). Some of these jobs include:

  • Flight attendant (A waitress in the sky? Yes!)
  • Travel writer
  • Tour guide for some exotic location
  • Cruise ship social director or bartender  (like Julie or Isaac from The Love Boat)
  • Personal chef (Wait … I think I already am.)
  • Character actress (like Rebel Wilson)
  • Personal assistant to someone nearly crazy (Think of the stories I could tell!)
  • NBC page (that’s one of those unfulfilled college ideas)
  • Beta tester for games
  • Game show host
  • Full-time employee at my university’s study-abroad campus in France (!)
  • Owner of a craft brewery
  • PR executive for Disney
  • Train conductor
  • State senator

Maybe Santa can bring me new names for my contact list to help me accomplish my goals.

So yes, I am interested in many things. Dilettante? No. Focused? Yes, for periods of time. Game show host? I can only hope. Thanks for helping me in one of my pursuits.

Anyway, happy holidays, and I look forward to seeing you in Washington, D.C.

Sincerely,
Beth, Aspirational Polymath

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Dear Universe:

Thanks for all the twists and turns that led Eddie and me to meet each other and get together. He is the only person I truly ever could have been with for the long haul.

Why? He just gets me.

For example, he knows when to do a good deed. I came home from work and he had put up the Christmas tree and decorated the house. Score!

When you’ve been married a while (17 years for us), gestures like that sustain the relationship and keep it from getting boring. You have to look for treasures among the familiar. The excitement among the mundane. The embers in the ashes.

Sometimes it is not the big things that have the most impact. Just think about all the little things there are to be thankful for on a daily basis:

  • The cool side of the pillow
  • A for-no-reason kiss and hug from your child
  • The first sip of coffee in the morning
  • A spectacularly groomed beard (Nicholas David, I’m talking about you!)
  • Simple white Christmas lights
  • A super-sharp chef’s knife
  • Justin Bateman’s ad libs in “Horrible Bosses
  • Using a triple word space in Words With Friends
  • A light that turns green as you approach
  • Really good cotton sheets
  • Chumlee
  • The SNL “Single Ladies” video parody (especially Justin Timberlake)

The holiday season is filled with big moments. I’m going to take the time to appreciate the little ones too.

I’ll take a cue from my moment-planning husband.

Thanks again, Universe!
Beth

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Dear Founding Fathers,

I know you won’t read this because, you know, you are dead and all, but I felt compelled to write.

And say, “Thanks.”

I don’t usually think about the Constitution, the Revolutionary War, and all that freedom jazz on a daily basis. Then I travel. And feel really freakin’ fortunate.

I’ve been roaming around the desert in 90-degree heat with everyone telling me how nice and cool it is now. Abu Dhabi is apparently Satan’s sweaty butt crack in the summer.

Maybe it is the heat that causes the crazy. Or maybe it is the money. New money. Oil money. “Look at me!” money. Shiny things sparkle. The abaya-clad ladies like crows flock to snatch them up, take them back to their concrete nests.

I want to say so much, but I have to tread carefully. There is a new law that says people can’t criticize the government. I think back to the recent U.S. election, a war fought on Facebook, and I have to laugh a little.

I see strange things — strange because of my American eyes. If I were Emirati, though, I would shrug and say, “No problem, no problem.” National Day approaches. It’s like the U.S. Fourth of July. National pride is especially strong right now, as the country celebrates 41 years. In 41 years, this gleaming city has sprung from sand — sand heated and pressed into windows and doors and walls.

Everywhere is something new. Here a new Guggenheim. There an extension of the Louvre. What’s this? A new maritime museum, also by 2030. Or so they say.

And everything has to be bigger, better, first. Tallest building? Check (Burj Khalifa in Dubai, tallest in all three areas of measurement). World’s biggest shopping mall? Check (Dubai Mall). World’s furthest-leaning man-made tower? Check (Capital Gate in Abu Dhabi).

But wait, there’s more.

The Sheikh Zayed Grand Mosque (largest mosque in the U.A.E.) alone features the biggest dome in the world, houses the world’s largest hand-knotted carpet, and the biggest chandelier inside a mosque.

Largest mosque in the U.A.E.

World’s largest hand-knotted carpet

 

Biggest chandelier inside a mosque

Ferrari World (world’s largest indoor theme park) features the world’s fastest roller coaster, the Formula Rossa (150 mph). Oh, and the largest logo (on the roof).

The Emirates Palace Hotel (second most expensive hotel ever built [uh oh, what happened there?]) houses the world’s first gold vending machine.

You get the picture.

It smacks of desperation. A new country trying to make a big name for itself. Like the last child who is always the loudest, craving all eyes, all attention, all the love.

Meanwhile, logic has gone on holiday. For example, Al Raha Mall is right across the highway (six lanes) from the place where I am staying. Look at how close it is!

But it takes 15-20 minutes, five miles and four U-turns to get there. There is a flyover exit to get to the building next door, but it is not possible to use the same exit to get to the mall.

Emiratis will hire people to build sturdy concrete walls surrounding construction sites (it’s mandatory to hide them), and then tear down one part of the wall when they decide where the driveway or road needs to go.

The U.A.E. is full of great ideas — flashy, PR opportunities. But built on a foundation of shifting sand. It makes me proud of a similar entrepreneurial spirit — America’s foundation — but the difference is follow-through. And a full plan to start. Here, “no problem, no problem” often is a big problem.

It’s a nice place to visit, but I wouldn’t want to live here.

And I feel so fortunate to live in a place where I can talk some smack.

So thanks.

Stars and stripes forevah,
Beth

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Dear Readers,

On this day of thanksgiving, I want to share with you the (admittedly random) things for which I am thankful, beyond the usual gratefulness for family, friends and health. I am thankful for (in no particular order):

  1. A husband who isn’t a lazy, fat slob (even if he has gone too far the other way and joined the Crossfit Cult)
  2. Artistic children
  3. The Avengers (specifically Thor and Iron Man)
  4. The ability to visit friends in far-flung places such as Abu Dhabi
  5. A job that I love
  6. Funny and talented colleagues
  7. The words “qi,” “za” and “jo” that are so handy in Words With Friends
  8. Apple (in our house: iPhone 5, iPhone 4S, MacBook Air, two iPads, two MacBook Pros and stock in Apple for obvious reasons)
  9. Bacon
  10. Stan Lee
  11. Adobo seasoning
  12. Full-coverage underwear
  13. Crocs (I know they are butt-ugly, but they are so useful)
  14. This
  15. Honey Boo Boo
  16. Puréed pumpkin in the freezer awaiting pie-making at Christmas
  17. Stephen King and his gloriously messed-up imagination
  18. Parker’s growlers
  19. Facebook and Twitter
  20. The word “moist” (A polarizing word, “moist,” but perfectly descriptive)

Here is what I could do without:

  1. The word “penetration” used in sports
  2. Any recent Patricia Cornwell books
  3. Poetry (Sorry.)
  4. Thongs
  5. Green peppers
  6. Mosquitoes, flies, sand gnats, telemarketers, talk show hosts and other pesky creatures
  7. The 24-hour news cycle that causes the focus to be on the salacious rather than the serious
  8. Men who don’t trim their ear and nose hair
  9. Pinterest, Instagram and Tumblr
  10. Any of the “real housewives”
  11. Burlap
  12. Strip malls
  13. Steven Seagal
  14. Fad diets such as Paleo, Zone, Atkins, etc. (just eat more fruits and vegetables, fewer sugary things, and exercise more, people!)
  15. Boys’ pants with unreinforced knees
  16. Knickknacks
  17. Chicago Manual of Style
  18. Anthony Bourdain
  19. Golf
  20. “Talking points” instead of just talking

Happy Thanksgiving, everyone!
Beth

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Vegas, baby

Dear Vegas,

To borrow the words Adam Levine used to describe Nicholas David on “The Voice,” you are so strange and beautiful.

I visited you in April and had a wonderful, over-the-top time. I think, though, that once a year (or even once every year) is my limit.

I visited you last weekend to represent my university at a conference, and you were just overwhelming.

What looked pretty from my hotel room at night was just too much sensory overload — by day and by night. Too much to take in. Everywhere I looked, I saw something out of the ordinary. But that’s how you are. Only in Vegas would you see:

The Grinch hanging out with Alan from “The Hangover.”

Spider-Man watching a breakdancer.

A man wearing a half shirt sleeping at the bus stop.

A window display proudly featuring animal carcasses.

One thing that you can find in any city though, is a crowd of people losing their minds over free stuff at a convention. At the one I attended at the MGM Grand, the swag-happy brought suitcases — suitcases! — to carry their loot.

 

(The tall woman in red is serving as the relayer, passing the boxes of free books to a herd of her compatriots.)It was a feeding frenzy. No exaggeration. And then there was a line at the business center of those same people shipping the swag home at exorbitant rates.

Just too much. I couldn’t take it. I was in bed by 9:30 each night. I’m sorry I wasn’t mentally prepared and able to take advantage of your varied nightlife: shows, showgirls, strippers, etc. Not that I wasn’t invited to partake … repeatedly.

Thanks anyway.

(And I’m also thankful that what happens in Vegas stays in Vegas. I rather like my regular, quiet life.)

See you in a couple of years when I can build up my tolerance for your neon jungle.
Beth

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Dear Readers,
I am proud to present my very first guest post by none other than my BFF Royce, partner in crime for many adventures. (That’s him on the right below.) He fancies himself a writer too, and I think you’ll agree that he’s got talent. It took his wife Sarah (that’s her next to him) and me more than a week of badgering to get this out of him. It was worth the wait. Enjoy!
Beth

Dear (former) leaf blower,

I retired you yesterday. Several weeks ago, you decided you had worked enough and quit, right in the middle of a job. You just stopped. No two-weeks notice, no “thanks for the opportunity, boss” chat. Nothing. I tried to convince you to stick around: fresh gas, clean air filter, extended time off. Yesterday, when I needed you most, with the yard on the line, you failed me yet again. Gave up with hardly a gasp, no effort whatsoever.

You really only have one purpose for your entire existence, you know: You blow air. That’s it. You were conceived for no other reason than to blow shit around. It’s why I chose you out of all of the others that day not so long ago. You presented so well in your glossy, eye-catching box splashed with pleasing colors and images of manicured lawns and sidewalks. You made me want you and the impossibly well-kept yard you obviously had no role in creating.

Charlatan, I say!

In the hours since your departure, it’s become painfully obvious to me that your time here was too easy, too much like a vacation. Your work days were short and scattered throughout any given season, with as much as three months off for winter break. Summer was admittedly the busiest time of year but even then you were called in two, three times a month, at most. I treated you well enough, I think. Granted,  I didn’t bathe you weekly in warm, soapy water but you were treated with due care and respect. Arguably better than most, I would venture.

Rest assured I will not be making that mistake, again.

And no, I will not be a reference for you.

Regards,
Royce

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To a different Adam

Dear Adam Levine:

Congratulations on the success of “The Voice” and your single “Payphone.” Your work on “The Voice” (and your bromance with Blake) has provided many hours of entertainment for my husband and me.

Though I would consider myself a fan, I would use the qualifier “casual,” not “rabid.” So imagine my surprise when I had a dream about you last night.

I have no idea why I was pitching you my ideas for how to make television news more interactive and appealing to advertisers. I don’t know why you had boobs. I also don’t know what made you think I was gay.

I do wish I owned the lovely dress from the ’30s that I was wearing, complete with matching snood. And I want to thank you for being a gentleman, and loaning me your fur coat to wear when I became chilly.

Anyway, keep up the good work on the show and with Maroon 5, and I’m impressed with your new rapport with Christina.

Sincerely,
Beth

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Desperate but not serious

Dear Adam,

Let me just say right off the bat that I love you. So much. You are perpetually on the top of my “Get Out of Marriage Free” list.

And that’s why I want you to call my husband.

It’s an odd request, I know, but he is part of the Crossfit Cult. He can help you.

Why?

Because this is how you looked the last time in concert:

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

And this is how you looked Saturday night at the concert in New York City:

That cummerbund is hiding something I never thought you would have.

I’m not trying to be unkind. This is your first U.S. tour in 17 years. I know you took time off to deal with some personal issues.

I just don’t think you were (or are) taking very good care of yourself. You shouldn’t be winded by the second song. Your leaps and high kicks have become an Ed Grimley-style side twist. Your voice sounded like Marge Simpson’s sisters at certain points. I mean, the audience had to help out with “Beat my Guest,” for crying out loud.

This is not to say it wasn’t a fantastic show. It was. Absolutely. It was just hard to reconcile the Adam I remember with the current you. Granted, you could accuse me of carrying around a little more me also. Touché.

But you are in your late 50s now, and I want you to be healthy so you can do what you love: Create music and perform for fans. (And I still want to meet you.)

So, do us all a favor and call Eddie. He can help you try another flavor, so to speak. Be the dandy highwayman you once were.

And remember, as Whitney said, “I will always love you.”

Vive le Rock,
One of your most devoted Antpeople

 

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Dear Annoying People in and Traveling to/from New York City:

Perhaps you are unaware that you live in a world with other people. You do not operate within a movable cone of silence. Here are some tips (prescriptive and restrictive) for existing in harmony with others:

On an airplane

  • Put your smartphone game on mute, especially if you are going to play it for the entire two-hour flight.
  • Do not speak loudly in Portuguese with your friend to combat the loud English-speakers seated in front of you.
  • Never hum throughout the flight.
  • Please be aware of how much room you take up when wearing a backpack. Be careful when turning as your backpack might hit (repeatedly) the person in the seat next to you.

In an airport bathroom

  • Step out of the way to have a conversation to allow others to use the sink and hand dryer.
  • The bathroom stall is not the place to hold a conversation on your cell phone, especially when there is a line of people waiting.
  • Wash your hands, for Pete’s sake. Clean hands save lives!

In public places

  • Allow at least a foot of clearance between yourself and the person standing in front of you.
  • Do not “tsk,” sigh loudly, rifle through your handbag, talk with your friend, or otherwise disturb others during a tense documentary. The movie theater is not your living room.
  • It is OK to remove your leather jacket at a concert if you get hot. There is no need to sweat inside it, causing a cloud of body odor to emanate from you.
  • If you leave your spot in front of the stage at a concert, you forfeit rights to that spot. You can’t keep coming out and going back into the crowd. It is never OK to push people out of the way.
  • Do not breathe forcefully on the arm of the person next to you at a concert.

In the nail salon

  • Treat your customers kindly. Nail polish should not take hours to dry. If a customer complains about a problem with the manicure that resulted from many layers of polish not drying quickly, do not say to her, “You not careful.”
  • Toes are attached to feet. Do not try to wrench them off customers during a pedicure.

Thank you for your consideration,
Beth

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Pip pip to the Brits

Dear People of Oxford, England:

Thank you for your hospitality when I visited last week for a conference. At no time did I feel that you thought less of me because I am an American. (Although perhaps I, like many Americans, was just oblivious.)

Thank you for not mocking me when I tipped, or took an inordinately long time trying to decipher the wording on the coins.

I know you could tell I am American because I smiled all the time and was extra friendly. I hope my American accent didn’t sound too much like a bird squawking. Or like this.

Americans are like dogs to England’s cats. We have big personalities and can be overwhelming. We’re always wanting attention, calling attention to ourselves, trying to engage people somehow. Running around with chew toys and slinging slobber. That sort of thing.

In contrast, you English folks are more reserved, aloof even. You might play with the metaphorical cat toy, but only if it suits you, and certainly not when anyone is watching.

But you were kind to me, and for that I am appreciative.

You really are jolly good chaps.

Cheerio, and I hope to see you again soon.
Beth

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