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After nearly seven years, I've finally finished writing the essays on my original list.

Here's what I've learned: )

#36 and final in a series, beginning here and listed here - and ended HERE!

Dear Jeff:

Dec. 30th, 2009 12:39 pm
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Dear Jeff: )

#35 in a series, beginning here and listed here

Coming tomorrow: The stunning conclusion to this project! I really do mean tomorrow. It's already written.
collacentaur: (Default)
After an extended hiatus, I am pleased to present #34 in a series, beginning here and listed here.

Dear Andrew: )

Dear Chris

Aug. 24th, 2006 03:07 pm
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#33 in a series, beginning here and listed here

Dear Chris: )
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Dear Monica:

#32 in a series, beginning here and listed here

Brought to you now for timeliness:

Dear Monica: Can I be you for Halloween? )

Dear Dan:

Jul. 6th, 2005 04:50 pm
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# 31 in a series, beginning here and listed here

Dear Dan: )

Dear Rian:

Apr. 21st, 2005 04:21 pm
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#30 in a series (wow), beginning here and listed here

Dear Rian )

Dear Chris:

Nov. 5th, 2004 05:39 pm
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I seldom give up on old projects or hobbies; sometimes they just get pushed to the back burner for a while. So, #29 in a series...

Dear Chris: )
collacentaur: (rosebud)
There are some ways in which I very clearly was born into the wrong generation. Most often when I recognize this, it's to do with career path and personal expectations and the like. In this case, I'm thinking of my old-fashioned approach toward communications.

A longwinded ramble, bringing me back eventually full circle. )

And now there's a bit of Simon and Garfunkel playing in my head. Perhaps it's just my age, and not my generation after all.
collacentaur: (Default)
Next in a series:

Dear Olivia: )

Dear John:

Feb. 10th, 2004 05:34 pm
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Returning now to a project I've neglected for far too long (see this entry if it doesn't sound familiar to you), I am pleased at long last to present
Dear John: )
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Dear Jenny:

I will always wonder if I couldn't have tried a little harder. Words are hard to find. )
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Dear Bryan: Read more... )
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Dear Kathryn: Sometimes the best mother is someone else's. I have always been lucky enough to have all the choir moms to fill in the gaps for me. Most of all, I owe you my thanks for being a good enough friend, to both me and my mother, to nag me about all the things I refused to hear from my own parents in the last six months before I left for college. I was an insufferable ass to my own family, but I still valued your opinion enough that I did the things I needed to so that you wouldn't sound disappointed in me.
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Dear John: You were an accomplished and mature individual, especially for seventeen. You had a Real Job, for one thing. I set my alarm almost an hour early every school day, so I could turn on the radio and listen to the AM talk show you produced. I couldn't stand the asshole whose show it was - neither could you, I recall - but I listened for the once every couple of weeks that he talked to you on the air.

And you were lead singer of your band. Not that that meant much, only that you were the one with a voice - the other guys were pretty horrible singers. But they were definitely the controlling personalities... You really had talent, though. A lot of talents. You made an excellent Tin Woodsman. And you played piano, too. I learned to appreciate the Beatles from listening to you.

It's no wonder that you were the Crush of the Year for the non-band artistically-minded geek girls, I guess. Digression ) You were unfailingly sweet and courteous to all of your unofficial fan club, too, which was very rare. Although, in retrospect, I wonder whether you realized that I was part of that number. I always assumed you did, but thinking back on one or two things, I wonder if perhaps you really just thought of me as a friend. The reason I think so ) Considering that, I have even more respect for you, because honest friendship was so very rare at that time.


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May 2011

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