Dear Breakfast Dude,

I also like to people watch while I sit by myself in the cafeteria for breakfast, but you have to make it look casual. What you're doing is called "staring me down".... What's your problem dude?

♥, 
C.

Dear "Christians,"

I'm not going to lie. Lately, I've been ashamed to call myself a Christian. It's not that I'm embarrassed that I believe in God, or Creation, or Jesus' birth, death, and resurrection. I would gladly tell anyone who asks (and some who don't), what I believe. No, instead I'm ashamed of being categorized with other so-called Christians. I do not want people to lump me in a category of those who can only be called hypocrites. To be frank, I think God is probably quite embarrassed, too. 

As you can probably already tell, this post is going to be offensive. And  it's about homosexuality. If you can't handle these topics, do us both a favor and just stop reading, but let's be honest, if you feel like you need to stop here, this post was actually directed at you. I never, ever talk politics. I hate disturbing the peace.This is not political. I'm not taking sides in any debate. I just want to bring your attention to something. The peace was already absent. If you thought we were living in peace, you've been just as naive as I have. It's time to wake up.

Like I said, I'm not taking sides on anything. I just want to show you something. This is not about looking at reasons for or against homosexuality. I think the recent wave of suicides (actually, I call it mass murder, but whatever) due to bullying calls for a response. Of love. 

We Christians like to talk about how Jesus spent time with the people that religious zealots would have nothing to do with. Personally, I think we talk about it so much because we like knowing He would've been hanging out with "us" instead of "them."  But how do you think that translates to today's time period? If Jesus was here tonight, who would he be having dinner with? It's pretty easy to translate at least two groups because they exist today like they did then: the prostitutes and the poor. So, yeah, of course he would've had dinner with the ladies down on Magnolia and hung out at the shelter. Don't you ever stop to think of why? It was not just because of their social status. Zacchaeus was the opposite of the poor dudes at the shelter. Mary and Martha certainly weren't prostitutes. So what is it? Why did Jesus eat with such a variety of people?

God loves everyone.

Love should be the biggest message we, as Christians, put forth. I don't care where you get your Biblical references for why homosexuality is a sin (Old Testament, New Testament, Version A or B), Jesus said LOVE is the greatest commandment. It's important to note who said this: It wasn't Moses, or Paul, or Mary. It was God in the flesh! Sin happens when you break the rules, God's rules. So if we have the greatest commandment here (in case you missed it: LOVE), what must be the greatest sin? The absence of love. 

At this point you might be like, "Oh, I'm definitely off the hook. I don't hate anyone." I didn't say anything about hate. Sure hate is bad, sinful, whatever, too, but not hating someone does not mean you love them. Love is a verb, guys. A verb is an action.

If you take nothing else from this, please hear me right now: Love is an action. It requires movement. You have to DO something! 

Please, lives are being taken. This is murder, guys; it's serious. At this point, we are beyond political debate. Now, I'm through being naive; I know we can never have complete peace. But we can make a difference. Starting now. Wear your heart on your sleeve; put love into action. 

♥,
C.

Dear (the other) TB,

What are you doing?! The first time you creep'd into my favorite cafe was bad, but when you commented on my presentation, you won a few points back, even though it was seriously awkward. But today, there was no reason for you to stop and wave before you left. None at all. If you hadn't dropped the WB, I probably would've thought this was cute. Now, you're just a creeper. Keep your pretty blue eyes on your wife.

♥,
C.

Dear VB,

Here's how it's gonna go down. I'm gonna learn to understand Russian. When we meet in the hallways at work, you can speak to me in your native language, and I will speak in mine. The goal is to reduce the awkwardness in our encounters by removing/minimizing the language barrier. I like you a lot, you are my favorite older doctor in the building, and we need to do everything we can to reduce awkwardness. But let's face it: the level will never be zero, what with you stealing my m&ms, thinking I'm rich because I go out of town so often, having to occasionally share my desk, etc. But at least neither of us will feel like we have to take different routes to avoid seeing each other after we've already had one (awesome but) awkward encounter, which I'm pretty sure happened because you spent the first few minutes trying to figure out how to exchange appropriate pleasantries in the weirdest language ever: English. 

♥, 
C.

Dear EF,

I have successfully avoided accidentally running in to you for three years now, except for that one time with your son in the library, which wasn't terrible because he served as a distraction from my poor Italian skills. But today I broke routine, and there you were! You did not speak one word of English, and I comprehended zero, niente. (I actually Google'd that to make sure it was correct) I don't think you realized how traumatizing this was for me, so let me enlighten you.

Immediately after our meeting, I fled the scene like a murderer, all but running from the building. I laughed at the awkwardness on my walk to work... out loud. This made people stare uncomfortably. Then I tried to go through the revolving doors, and slammed into the glass curve on the other side. Once I was in the elevators, I thought I could regain my sanity, but no. I tried to push the "close door" button to speed up the process, but pushed "open rear door instead." So here I am, with two elevator doors open, with people awkwardly peering in.

It's okay. I learned my lesson. What? No, the lesson is not refresh my Italian speaking skills, so this is not uncomfortable next time. The lesson is stay away from Buttrick Hall, so I can avoid you all together.

♥,

C.

Dear Guy Walking Behind Me,

Yes, you did just see me run into that hand rail along the path. I'm not drunk, or sleep walking... just very overwhelmed and under-rested. Let's both pretend it didn't happen and go about our miserable lives at college.

♥,

C.

Dear Professor,

Please do not ask me to print things out anymore. At first I will rebel completely. I mean, how dare you ask me to waste money on paper and ink, especially if I have already had to buy one book because the library let me down, and we will avoid talking about that $40 meditation pillow. But then I will realize (late the night before the day we will go over this in class) I probably won't be able to do well on the quiz if I am trying to read the .pdf instead of flipping through a hard copy. At this point, I secede from the rebellion and pull out my printer. The printer hates me, so she will rebel in her own way, eat my paper, leave spots everywhere, print the top of a page on the wrong sheet, etc, etc. Finally, it will just die. Of course, I won't give up right away. Instead, I will argue with the printer for hours, trying at first to gently coax it, then beating it to pieces. Now it is way past my bed time, and I'm upset. Upset with you for asking me to do this. So now I'm back to the rebellious stage. Meditate on this, lady: I am bringing my computer to class tomorrow as a copy of these crazy handouts!

♥,

C.

Special Edition: Note to Self

It's time to stop feeling like you have to touch everything you walk by. Though it's pretty harmless to feel how soft the pillows are in a home interior store, when you walk by a tree that looks nice enough to run your fingers through, you will be unable to resist. Unfortunately, this is a trap. You will end up with sticky sap all over your hand. You'll probably try to run your fingers through your hair shortly after, which will not only result in your hand getting tangled but also leave the grime in your locks. Speaking of locks, you will be very upset when you pick up your keys the next day, and they are still sappy.

♥,

C.

*If you enjoyed this special edition, read more "notes to self" (which are much funnier than this blog) here: 

Note to Self Lessons

Dear God,

Please clamp my mouth shut before I do any of the following things to other people:

• hurt feelings
• yell 
• explain how stupid they are
• punch in the hyoid
• muuuurder

Or worse... before they transfer me to the psych ward.

♥,

C.

Dear Super Awkward Guy in the Cafe,

Tell me how, exactly, you saw this conversation going any better before you approached this poor bystander?

Awkward Guy: Hey. How's it going?
Bystander Guy: Um.. good.
AG: You work with a friend of mine's wife.
BG: Okay..
AG: I can't remember her name right now.
:more awkward conversation:
AG: Well, okay I'll let you get back to whatever.
:walks back to this side of the cafe:

I have to thank you though. For reaffirming my decision to never approach strangers, even if I think they look familiar.


♥,
C.

Dear General Public,

College students really are poor. Sure, not all of them, but the large majority of the collegiate population can barely afford to eat a full meal and sleep comfortably at night. Neither of these would be possible if it were not already added into our tuition. So, when you ask me for money in the elevator of my workplace (a place where you should not be, anyway, let alone be there and be asking people to pay your "bus fare"), and I very nicely explain that I do not have any because I am a poor college kid, do not go off on a digression about rich kids you went to junior high with. It's free to go to public school, so of course people there have money. Here, on a college campus, every dime I make is somehow reciprocated back to Vanderbilt for my education. That means I won't be paying for your bus trip (real or not) because I can't even afford to eat! But maybe you should just enroll in college. Then, though you will still be as poor as you are now, you can ride the bus for free.

♥,

C.

PS Don't ever call me sweetheart. My grandfather was the only person allowed to use that sentiment, and I'm probably gonna punch the next person who says it. Consider yourself warned. :)

Dear Everyone Who Responds to My Emails,

When I send you an email, my name appears at the from/sender line. Just in case that isn't enough I also add my name to the bottom of the email to provide a personal touch. And for a professional grand finale, my emails are always finished with my physical work address and email (which includes my name), preceded by what? My first and last name. Every time I write my name or it is signed in an email from me, it is spelled correctly. How hard is it to glance down at it, or check the spelling in the "to" line to make sure it is correct when you respond to my messages?! I take personal offense. Sure, many people can not pronounce my name, but there are usually legit reasons (e.g. the person is illiterate, they know someone with a similar name pronounced slightly different, etc.), but there is no reason to misspell my name when it is written correctly several times in your message window! 

♥,

C.

Dear VU,

The celebrity dopplegängers are starting to be hazardous to my health. My heart stopped when I saw Wil Wheaton. I almost tripped when I passed Jared Rigsby at my dorm. But the icing on the cake was when I almost laughed myself to death because Robert De Niro cut me off at Branscomb.

,

C.

Dear Oak Ridge Citizens,

Please obey the traffic laws. Then the red light/speed enforcement cameras will stop being profitable, at which time I will listen to you whine about them. Until then, if you would like to be reminded that a red light = stop, I'd be happy to set up an appointment for you to meet my four year old. He also recognizes the number on the speed limit signs: 35. 

,

C.

Dear Southern Gentlemen,

You keep holding open doors, I'll keep saying thank you, and we'll never move north. 

,

C.

Dear AN,

If there was an award for most annoying person on the internet, you'd definitely win. I would rather be surrounded by annoying kids and their creepy parents than reading your updates.

,

C.

Dear PG,

You recently wrote: Someday, you'll be reading my books.

Here is my response: No, I will not. Even if you managed to publish something in my genre instead of just documenting your ridiculous romance dreams, your grammar is ridiculous. I will never read anything you write... unless I need to make fun of someone to make myself feel better.

,

C.

Dear Coffee Lady,

I'm sorry that you're losing your job because the cafe closes for the summer, but it is not legit grounds to be so hateful. If it really bothers you that much, you should've got a job at Starbucks; they're open all year. I bet they would even let you work holidays, since you're so desperate. But wait... weren't you just complaining to me last week about having to work +60 hours at two jobs?

Nonetheless, you were my favorite coffee lady. You even got my routine down, knowing exactly what I would order and how to work my meal plan. Now, I hope they don't hire you back in the fall. You should seriously consider that Starbucks job.

,

C.

Dear Girl in My Class,

WHY are you staring at me?! I mean, really, it would probably be okay if you didn't have to turn completely around in your seat... but you do! It's so creepy! Please. Stop.

,

C.

Dear shoes,

It is not okay to squeak. Especially when you are walking by the Dean of Medicine!

,

C.

Dear AL,

It's not going to work out... You look too much like my ex.

,

C.

Dear TB,

If you are going to wear those three-piece suits to class, please buy some appropriate socks. Wait... why are you wearing those three-piece suits to class?!?!

,

C.

Dear Guy Who Just Saw Me Cross the Hall in My HK Robe and Towel Around My Head Nun-Style,

Let's pretend like that didn't happen.

,

C.

Dear Life,

I love you.

,

C.

Dear Girl in My Class,

You look just like Lindsay Lohan. It freaks me out.

,

C.

Dear Professor,

I know that you see me staring at the cute guy in class every day. Let's keep this our little secret...

,

C.

Dear Bagel Girl,

You do not have to use all of the cream cheese in the packet.

,

C.

Dear S,

I just don't like you. And to be half Indian, you are ridiculously pale.

,

C.

Dear gBF,

I love all the creative ways that you fix my problems.

,

C.

Dear Guy I Pass >3 Times Every Day

You are cute, and I appreciate your returned smiles. But the way you look at me is getting steadily creepier. You are too old for me. Keep smiling... but lose the creepiness.

,

C.

Dear Everyone at VUMC,

Please do not use "How are you" or "What's up" or any variation of courtesy questions in place of "Hi." These questions elicit responses, and when I am quickly walking past you, I do not have time to answer or kindly ask you the same. "Hi" is appropriate in this situation.

,

C.

Dear GW,

You are way too attractive, way too polite, and dress way too nice... to be straight.

,
C.

Dear CP,

Just when I think you can't get any cuter, you leave off the hair gel. You are gorgeous.

,

C.

PS Not that I don't love the hair gel.