Dear Nature's Own Bread Company,

PR advice: when a customer informs you that she has found a fly baked into a loaf of your bread, it would be wise to offer compensation other than a $.55 cent coupon for another loaf of your bread. Seriously. Otherwise, said disgruntled customer is going to blog about your pathetic attempt to make things "right" and tell everyone she has ever known not to purchase your product.

You stink,
Erin

P.S. Telling me that "In 13 years we've never had a bug in our product!" does not reassure me.

P.P.S. The man who came to "collect the evidence" was very gracious. You should put him in charge of PR, because whoever's doing covering PR now is really, really incompetent.

Dear Sister Snow,

I know it's been, like, 100 years since you walked on this earth, but can we be friends anyway? I've always wanted to see a ghost angel. And, this is probably the best quote I've heard in years and years. You rock. Even though you are, ahem, dead.


"We want to be ladies in very deed, not according to the term of the word as the world judges, but fit companions of the Gods and holy ones. In an organized capacity, we can assist each other in not only doing good but in refining ourselves, and whether few or many come forward and help prosecute this great work, they will be those that will fill honorable positions in the kingdom of God.
Women should be women and not babies that need petting and correction all the time. I know we like to be appreciated, but if we do not get all the appreciation which we think is our due, what matters? We know that the Lord has laid high responsibility on us, and there is not a wish or desire that the Lord has planted in our hearts in righteousness but will be realized, and the greatest good we can do to ourselves and each other is to refine and cultivate ourselves in everything that is good and ennobling and qualifying for those responsibilities."

I'm pretty sure that if I embroidered (maybe you could teach me?) I'd be embroidering  this on a pillow. Or a blanket, cuz it's kind of long.

Your friend,

Erin

P.S. Sister Beck, you're pretty cool too. Loved your talk. Loved it. And you have  the distinct advantage of being alive, so maybe we could be friends? Think about it and let me know!

Dear JoAnne Fabric and Crafts:

****Disclaimer: The following memo may be 1)completely boring and 2)completely incomprehensible to anyone who doesn't sew regularly. I apologize in advance. Feel free to return to your regularly scheduled activities.****

I am so over you. Seriously. I have often questioned the legitimacy of your "sales" and the quality of your products, but this was the last straw. I would like to know how it is possible that, out of 30 (yes, 30)quarter flats purchased from your store, exactly 10 are use-able? Really, I'd like to hear an explanation, because this is ridiculous. I would think that a store that purports to be a "fabric" retailer would understand that it should not use permanent adhesive to hold said quarter flats together. And yet, I just spent an inordinate amount of time trying to peel, scrape, rub and wash the adhesive off the fabric. While doing so, I discovered that the fabric itself was of such low quality that even the gentlest rubbing and washing left holes. Really? I mean, I didn't expect the highest quality fabric to begin with, but this is beyond absurd.
I recently resolved to frequent my LQS and knitting boutique more regularly because, even though their prices are slightly more expensive, I want to support local businesses. This incident only furthers my resolve. Now, I am also confident that the quality of the products far exceeds yours and that I will actually be able to use the items I purchased.
In short, I cannot imagine a reason for me to return to your store. Goodbye forever.
With extreme annoyance,
Erin

Dear Student,

Since you are clearly not very bright, allow me to offer some advice:
When you purchase a paper off the internet and turn it in as if you wrote it yourself, do not attempt to make it look like you wrote the paper by including a "reference page". I will check the reference(s) you list. When I discover that the reference listed therein is, in actuality, the site from which you purchased the paper, I will think you are the stupidest person on earth. And then, I will laugh at you. And show my husband what you did. And he will laugh at you. Then, I will blog about you and everyone I have ever known will laugh at you. Because that's the kind of teacher I am.

Sincerely,
Erin

Dear Hanna Rosin,

Today, I was clicking through a variety of articles and came across your "discussion" of the HBO television show "Big Love" on the XX Factor blog. Having never seen the show, I was interested to read an explanation of what, exactly, some people find so appealing about it. Unfortunately, I did not get very far into your piece before I was so monumentally annoyed that I couldn't continue reading. Since I couldn't find a way to contact you directly, I thought I'd share my complaint with you in this forum.

It seems you are treating Big Love as a documentary. Watching Big Love in an attempt to understand the FDLS culture or, worse, Latter-day Saint (Mormon) culture is just absurd. The television program is FICTIONAL. The characters and story lines of this show reflect the imaginations of the writing team and nothing more.

You repeatedly refer to members of the FLDS sect and the characters on "Big Love" as "Mormons." You even state that Warren Jeffs is a "Mormon prophet." You repeatedly compare the experiences of the characters on the show to what you perceive to be the experiences of actual Mormons. Apparently, you must not know many, or any, actual Mormons because you even went so far as to compare the male lead of the program to Mitt Romney. While I understand you are writing a blog and not a "serious" news article, it would seem to me that you would want to ensure your facts are accurate before posting to a forum that hundreds, even thousands, of people read. Since you didn't validate your information before publishing your article, allow me to offer several corrections that you may consider publishing now:

1.Members of the FLDS faith are not Mormons.
2. Warren Jeffs is not a Mormon prophet. Nor has he ever been. Nor will he ever be. Thomas S. Monson is the prophet and leader of the Church of Jesus Christ of Latter-day Saints.
2.Mormons do not practice polygamy.
3.Mormons have not practiced polygamy for over 100 years. In fact, any member of the LDS Church (Mormon) who is found to be practicing polygamy is excommunicated.

If you would like to know more about what Latter-day Saints (Mormons) actually believe I invite you to visit mormon.org. If you would like to learn more about the lives of actual Latter-day Saint women, rather than assuming the fictitious lives of the characters on Big Love represent anything even approaching reality, I invite you to visit Mormon Mommy Blogs. There, you will find hundreds of blogs written by actual Mormon women that describe and discuss the reality of Latter-day Saint living and culture. I promise, you won't find a single polygamist in the bunch.

Thanks so much,
Erin

Memos

Dear Jon Schmidt et al,
The concert last night was fantastic! My husband and I were so impressed. You and those who worked with you are incredibly talented and such fun to watch and listen to. Thanks for a great performance!
Sincerely,
Erin

Dear Audience at the Jon Schmidt Concert,
You. Suck. Seriously. Were you people raised in a barn? I have been in audiences made up entirely of high school students that were more respectful and well-behaved than you people. Who on earth comes to a concert late and thinks "I know, I will call the people I am meeting in the middle of the performance so they can tell me where to sit?" rather than just waiting till you can see, or taking an available seat until intermission? And who the (*^&% actually answers their phone and starts to talk in the middle of the performance!? Is it so hard to just wait a moment at the back of the auditorium so that you don't interrupt the entire concert?
Additionally, I cannot believe I had to ask a grown man to turn off his phone so it would stop buzzing and blinding me everytime he got a text message. Twice. I had to ask you twice. Unless someone has died, there is no information being texted to you that is that important. And, if there is information you must have that instant, then leave!And to the person sitting next to Isaac who thought "covering" your phone with one hand while texting with the other was acceptable, all you did was create a strobe light effect. Super. Annoying. At least Isaac only had to ask you once to knock it off. And who the (^&% thinks it is acceptable to talk, non-stop throughout an entire concert? You are lucky I only had to bust out my "I will kill you with my eyes" stare once, otherwise, you might be dead.
Finally, I know he/she is cute and cuddly and all that jazz, but please, for the love of everything holy, leave your baby with a sitter. That is what a babysitter is for.

Raised in a barn, I tell you.

Sincerely,
Erin

Dear Manufacturer of the "Permanent" Fabric Dye,

So. Apparently you and I have different definitions of "permanent". You see, for me that means "will not wash off, rub off or otherwise disappear". Except, your "permanent" dye actually did wash out, rub off and disappear. Now, my hands, sink and various kitchen utensils are dyed black-ish blue and I am hoping the non-permanance of your permanent dye extends to materials other than fabric. We'll see.

Also, while we are discussing the new colors of the various objects your dye came in contact with; I was under the impression that there was a rather universal understanding of the color "black". Apparently, I was wrong about that too-since the very thing I tried to dye permanently black today is now actually a lovely shade of violet and consistently bleeding copious amounts of blue-ish black dye which is dying everything it touches-EXCEPT THE FABRIC. Thanks for that. You stink.

Sincerely,
Erin

Dear Visitors From New Zealand,

I am soooo excited that you are here! Why? Because, for years I have been plagued by a question that only a New Zealand-er can answer. It is on my mind all.the.time...Well, okay. Maybe not all of the time, but frequently.

You see, several years ago, I had a discussion with my friend Harmony and she insisted that "real" New Zealand-ers eat a kiwi with the skin on. My response? EWWWWWWWWW. But, she was insistant. So, for years I have wondered, "Could this be true?! Wouldn't that be a little like eating a squishy, furry, scratchy ball of ick?" And, I haven't been able to acertain the validity of her claim because, while I know people who have been to New Zealand, I don't know a single person from New Zealand. Being actually from New Zealand is important because what if this whole "skin on" stuff is just something real New Zealand-er's tell foreigners because it's funny to watch them try to eat the kind of furry, but also scratchy, skin? Like a "Welcome to New Zealand" hazing ritual for newly arrived exchange students?

So, visitors from New Zealand, even though you are really searching for information about the Janome 6600 sewing machine, could you help me out?

The Kiwi. Skin on or skin off?

Your secret's safe with me,
Erin

Dear President Obama,

In light of the recent and astronomical predictions for the federal deficit, I have someone I'd like you to meet:





Dave meet Barack.
Barack meet Dave.

I also recently read that you, Mr. President, have a "summer reading list". May I suggest an addition to that list?



Budget crisis? Solved.

Dear Boss-like Person,

I am thrilled, really I am, that you value my opinion. I, being rather opinionated, think it's nice to actually be asked what I think, rather than following my usual pattern of offering my opinion whether solicited or not.
However, I do not appreciate being asked my opinion of other workers in the office. I do not like feeling like I am part of your covert plan to dig up dirt on co-workers against whom you have odd vendettas. Gossip under the guise of professional inquiry is still gossip. I.do.not.like.it.not.one.bit.
So. In the future, please do not invite me into your "office/cube" and ambush me with such questions. Because, as I've said, I am rather opinionated and I might just tell you what I think of you and your not-so-subtle attempts to get me to reveal damning information. I would feel perfectly justified in doing this because you are not my boss. You are simply boss-like.


Thanks so much!
Erin

Dear Arizona Drivers,

That stuff falling from the sky is RAIN. It is NOT the apocalypse. The sky is NOT falling down. I promise. There is no need to slow down to 15 mph on the freeway. Please, trust me. You can still drive the speed limit. Or close to it. I'd settle for 50mph, but 15mph is an invitation for me to get out of my car and beat you a little bit with sticks. I am pretty sure I could catch you if I walk at a brisk pace.

On a related note: to the driver of the black Audi who thought he was 'too cool' to follow the flow of traffic. You got what you deserved. I wanted to go faster too, but I am not stupid enough to think that wanting to go fast was the same as having the power to part the traffic like Moses parted the Red Sea. If you think that you can drive 90 mph whilst weaving in and out of traffic, you deserve to spin out and hit the median when you are forced to slam on your brakes because every lane of traffic comes to a complete stop (please see memo above). I laughed at you a little bit. What an idiot.

Sincerly,
Erin

Dear Little Burger King Man,

So, work today was pretty much crap-tacular . Like, seriously. I am sure you, Little Burger King Man, don't care for the details, so I won't share. But, just know it wasn't a great day. As I pulled into the little drive-through of your kind of ghetto Burger King,(which I normally wouldn't do, but I couldn't even think, for even one second, about actually making something to eat), I was super grumpy. I think I may have, oh, how to put this...taken my grumpiness out on you a wee bit. Or, a lot bit. But you, Little Burger King Man, would not be dragged down to my level. Oh no. You were so polite. So nice. I don't think I've heard a more sincere, "Thank you, and have a nice evening" ever. Not in my whole life. And certainly not from the poor little cashier at a fast food place. And so, Little Burger King Man, I salute you. You brightened an otherwise dismal Tuesday.

Sincerely,
Erin

P.S. Isn't the new layout for the blog ridiculously cute? Seriously.
P.P.S If I ever find the cord for the camera, I'll post pictures from our weekend with Isaac's parents. It was fantastic!

Dear Computer...

I hate you. You only work sometimes (I wish I could only work when I felt like it), you randomly decide to eat programs that have been on you for years. Your mouse only sort-of works and your keyboard is too slow. It takes 5 tries (sometimes more) for you to connect to the internet, even though the little light display on my cable modem says you are connected (I think you are taunting me)and sometimes, you decide not to connect at all, no matter how many times I restart you, kick you and curse the heavens. You are a useless, pain in the neck, lump of junk. I hate you.

Sincerely,
Erin