Open Letters Love Amy

Because the Internet is easier than buying stamps and I will just lose your zip code anyway.

Month: February, 2015

An Open Letter to Parks and Recreation

Dear Parks and Recreation,

I don’t think I am ready for this. I thought maybe it would be fine, because, whatever, you’re just a TV show and I am a grown adult human person. What’s the worst that could happen when you finally go off the air? It’ll probably be okay for a week or so. House of Cards will be on Netflix just a few days after your series finale and Vikings is back and also I think I solved the mystery of how to watch the new season of Broad City. (it is just on Hulu! So easy!)

But here is the thing about that: those shows aren’t you.

Because you are different. You are my favorite fictional people in one of my favorite fictional worlds. I love it all. I love Perd and Andy and Leslie and Joan and even that brat Greg Pikitis. You are a delight and even at your worst you are some of my favorite television in the history of all television I have ever seen (and I have seen a great deal of television; just ask Jon about the other day when we turned on the Apple TV and I had to quickly explain all those episodes of Friends with the little check next to them on the Netflix, or my old DVR, which faithfully held on to every rerun of The Mary Tyler Moore Show that aired during our time together).

I don’t really know how to describe it. You are just lovely. You’re like a best friend that you don’t really remember meeting for the first time, but who has always been there. You have made me laugh and cry at the same time more than any other piece of media. Those other shows are great too. I love watching them. But those shows aren’t comforting and wonderful in the same way that you are. You are just the greatest little television show and sometime in mid-April I will probably have a moment where I’m all “well, I guess this is the Saturday where I spend the entire day rewatching the entire series, pretending I haven’t seen it before,” just to relive the fun.

So thank you for all the magic and the fun and the Johnny Karate episode and Galentine’s Day and all of Leslie’s best friend nicknames for Ann and their awesome female friendship in general and drawing attention to the importance of breakfast food. Thank you for Lucy Lawless and Louis CK’s guest appearances. Thank you for that Twilight fan who handcuffed himself to that pipe (I think it was a pipe, maybe a chair?) in Leslie’s office. Thank you for Leslie’s binders and Lil Sebastian and for when The Decemberists performed. Thank you for Ben’s Letters to Cleo t-shirt and Cones of Dunshire and all of Leslie’s lines in the scene where Ben sat on the Iron Throne. Thank you for Shauna Malwae-Tweep, Ethel Beavers, Jean-Ralphio, Mona Lisa, Craig, Orin, Champion, and for the excellent arc of Andy and April’s relationship. Thank you for the Ron Swanson Pyramid of Greatness and for Ron Swanson in general. Thank you for all of Leslie’s dress shirts, especially those with fun patterns and also for that time she and Ben dressed up as Princess Buttercup and Wesley. God, thank you for just everything, okay?

I will keep watching all the television because there are lots of fun stories to watch and interesting characters to grow with. But I can’t imagine another show coming along anytime soon that is quite like you, with your wit, smart writing, and cleverness. Also thank you for life wisdom such as this:

“We have to remember what’s important in life: friends, waffles, work. Or waffles, friends, work. But work has to come third.”

Love, Amy

P.S. During season two (or maybe three, whatever, it was early-ish on), a guy I was dating said, “I just feel like Parks and Rec has never done one single joke,” and man, did I get so mad. That relationship did not work out, and I believe that our fundamental disagreement about your quality was an early indication of our inherent differences as people. Maybe that is overstating it, but I do not care.

An Open Letter to Furbacca

Dear Furbacca,

Sorry to be rude but what is even the point of you. You have scary eyes and I can think of approximately 1,000 other things to do with $79.99.

If you are some trick to get us all excited about Star Wars Episode VII that’s really too bad because I think everyone is already full of sufficient excitement.

And are Furbys even a thing anymore? Please advise.

Love,

Amy

An Open Letter to My New Boots

Hey guys,

Welcome. You live here now, but instead of risking your cleanliness by shoving you under the shelf by the front door with all the other shoes, I’m going to keep you safe in the bedroom by the shoes I never wear. But don’t listen to what they have to say. The red boots that actually look kind of like you but have a taller heel will try to tell you that you’ll never get worn. But you feel like pillows and are a beautiful dark charcoal grey, where they are kind of uncomfortable actually and a weird red color that doesn’t really go with anything. They are ungrateful idiots who should just be glad I rescued them from some Urban Outfitters warehouse and at least gave them a nice home.

The black heels will also be like, “Amy is the worst and we just sit here doing nothing,” but guess what? They are the worst and pinch my pinky toe. So there. Honestly, where am I really going to wear a pair of black heels? Acceptable work attire at my place of business is bare feet and a hoodie.

But with you guys it will be different. As you know, you have already gone to work! Wasn’t it fun?! You even got to walk to the food truck and get a burrito. What a great day that was. You are comfortable and beautiful and practical for many occasions. I can dress you up or down and you go with basically all the clothes I own.

Here’s to a wonderful life together. I promise to get you resoled if needed and never only occasionally spill coffee on you while walking to the car in the morning.

Love,

Amy

An Open Letter to Benjamin Franklin

Dear Benjamin Franklin,

Hey, silly guy. Remember in 1781 when you wrote an essay about farts? Well, I just learned about it. Somehow, my beloved AP US History teacher failed to mention this back in high school. What if it had been on the test?! But at least I know now. I also now know that in the essay you referred to a fart as “a great quantity of wind” and ended the essay by calling a farthing a “FART-HING.”

Bless you, Ben Franklin.

Love,

Amy

An Open Letter to Elysia chlorotica

Dear Elysia chlorotica,

Dude. How do you even do it? Are you magic? Are you an alien from an advanced world?

By “it,” I obviously mean being the first known species to participate in “horizontal gene transfer,” by which I mean you steal genes from the algae you eat and then are just like, “cool, I’ll just be here doing photoshythesis all on my own, as if, I dunno, maybe I was a plant and not just a sea slug.” You’re just hanging out, literally stealing genes from another species

Follow up questions:

  1. Can you show me how?
  2. Does it work on cats, do you think? Maybe I’ll be a snow leopard someday!

Love,

Amy