Dear Drink Koozie,

Oh, my sweet, simple Drink Koozie.

On these hot and humid days, you prove yourself tenfold.

No longer do important papers stick to a condensation ring on my desk.  Never again do I have to stand uncomfortably as an iced coffee drips water down my arm.  Forever I am saved from melting ice water making a mess of my life because I have you, you little promotional gem.

And that’s your other beauty: you remind me of my favorite things.  Whether it’s a radio station, a food product, or a TV show, I got you because I loved something enough to get it.  Or you were handed to me at a fair.  Or I randomly found you.  Either way, you directly or indirectly my three favorite things: free, random, productive products.

So, it’s safe to say this is love.  You’re a year round necessity that makes me appear more put together.

You, dear Koozie, are sacred in my books.



Dear Keytar Bear,

Wherever you go, whatever you play, your music brings joy to the citizens and tourists of Boston.

And you always seem to know when I need a smile.  As your paws work that Keytar, I can’t help but feel my day brighten.  Even without my morning coffee, when I hear your groovy beats, it’s like I had a double cappuccino.  There will be times that I’m on my way home from work and I’m burdened with the day’s stress and, right then, I look up and there you are! Just like that, my stress goes away.

In short, you’re all that’s right with the world!

I hope to run into you soon.

Your fan,


Dear Robert,

It’s nearly a year since I ended things between us.

It’s nearly a year since that time I called out of work so I could spend the day in your room watching Dr. Who and fooling around and reading in bed next to you.

Part of me is thankful for what we had and for the closest thing I had to love in my life at that time.  Part of me hates you for those metaphorical scars that I still bear from our relationship.  Part of me wishes I knew how to stick things out.

If I didn’t have an innate desire to flee after something bad happens, I’m almost certain we would have gotten back in touch.  We’d be friends now.  Maybe those metaphorical scars would have faded faster.  Or maybe I’d still have a hard time looking you in the eye.  Most likely the latter.

When we broke up, we sat in the park next to my office and you told me that what we had was good.  And that I was afraid.  You were right, I was afraid but not of our relationship.  I was afraid of how reckless our relationship made me.

Sometimes I look you up on Facebook.  I try to see if you’ve found a new girl to see plays with on hot summer evenings.  I look to see if you’re happy.  I don’t know why I do this.  I’m in a relationship with a man who I love in a way that I understand and I have no business looking at your page.  Perhaps I’m hoping that everything works out for a reason.  Or I’m looking for a happy photo of you so I feel validated in being happy now.

You probably don’t read this blog anymore but I wanted to put this out there for you to see.  Our relationship was both good and bad for me and I don’t regret a single day of it.  I hope you are happy and content with your life, now and always.

Your friend,


Dear Absence,

Oh, hey.

It’s been a while.

But you get it, don’t you? Time passing without saying hello doesn’t necessarily mean there is a lack of caring.  This time has been time to heal.  It’s been a time for change.  It’s been a time to get life back on the tracks.

You’ve provided me time to write more letters.

Thanks, Absence, for allowing me to be well enough to have a fresh look at the world again.

And with that, I say, hello to the world! And will be ever grateful for you, Dear Absence, for giving me the time for contemplation and love.

Now it’s time to get back into the saddle.



Dear Man with Lady Problems,

Listen, I just want to start this off by saying that everyone’s romantic endeavors are unique.  There are probably parts of your story that I don’t know and don’t venture to guess.

God, I hope there is more to your story.

From what I heard between the Prospect Avenue and 96th Street stops, you are having some serious “female” problems.  And I discerned that there were upwards to three different women with whom you have relations – perhaps this is the heart of the problem?

As I was listening, I started to hope that maybe all these ladies were aware of each other, that they were open to this polyamorous relationship.  For all I knew, you were such a stud that all the ladies were willing to share you.

You dashed my hopes and dreams for you though when you started your next sentence with:

And then she found out about the other female…

Dude, stop referring to your girlfriends as females.

Perhaps you don’t get that women get invested in the men they are dating.  You are not simply a sex piece (though you probably think yourself to be a Sex God and I’m sure you are with all the practice it seems you’re getting).  In fact, sex is only a small part of it, these women wanted a companion who would face the world with them.  Someone who would have their back everyday.

And you rolled up and made promises that you had no intention of keeping and wonder now why they are so upset when they realize you’ve dashed their dreams? Dude, I feel like you didn’t need a woman’s insight for this…

Wait, did I just hear you correctly?

If I were a king, I could have as many woman as possible in the hopes of getting a son.

So, you wanted a harem? Guy, you aren’t a king, you don’t need a son to guarantee your happiness and it doesn’t seem like you’re ready to father a child.

Also, have you seen Game of Thrones? Everyone knows that a king who has a son out of wedlock only gets partial claim to his kingdom.  Ask Ramsay Bolton or Jon Snow about that one…

I’m sorry you are having lady problems but it seems self inflicted to me.  Stop being a man-whore; be truthful to the woman your with (note that this is singular); and treat her with respect.

Problem solved.

Best of luck with your romantic endeavors,