Happy YOU Day!

The letter request:

I’d like a Valentine’s Day letter that gently reminds him why he’s so lucky to have me / should love me more / keep loving me forever / give me foot rubs EVERY day.

 

The letter:

Dear Ned, my Beloved Valentine,

Happy YOU Day!

As you read this, imagine me nuzzled in real close beside you. Maybe you’ve got your arm around me and I’m kinda nestled against your sturdy Irish chest all nice and snug like. Yeah, that’s it, that feels real cosy. Now, imagine my elbow, the one closest to you, imagine it digging into your lower ribs. Not so that it hurts – no way I would never hurt you on YOU Day – but just so it gently presses against your flesh in the sweetest way. Feel that? That’s called a nudge.

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Girls far and wide

The letter request:

Can you write a letter to all the girls out there who missed out on meeting my husband before I did and then I’ll give it to him as a love letter?

 

The letter:

Dear Girls Far and Wide,

This letter is one of commiseration and is in no way intended to be a declaration of triumph. I write because I genuinely feel for you. Sometimes I can’t sleep at night because my heart aches for the girls of Australia. The girls of Canada. The girls of France. Indonesia. All of South East Asia. The girls of every single country that has at some point hosted Jonathan. Girls who could have sat next to him on a bus, got chatting, exchanged numbers, one thing leading to another… Girls who could have been his best mate’s pretty cousin for whom he had the hots. Girls who could have worked in the same office as him and pashed him in the photocopy room at the Christmas party.

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A glimmering white bum

The letter request:

Could you write a Valentines letter to my husband’s car. He seriously loves it more than he loves me.

 

The letter:

Dear Aaron’s Audi,

Will you be our Valentine?

Last year on St Valentine’s Day you were quite new on the scene and I think we forgot to celebrate. We were in that heady stage of lust, I believe they call it the ‘honeymoon’ phase.
If I’m honest, it wasn’t all roses and violins for me. While Aaron was in love with you immediately I myself was a little wary. I’ve shared him with other loves before. I’ve shared him with houses, jet skis and television programs about Kombi restoration. Hell, I’ve even shared him with the ironing. But somehow this is different. When Aaron fell for you he fell hard.

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Abnormally lovely

The letter request:

My husband left me for another state and I’m not able to filter my activities, lots of late nights, boozing it up, trying to catch up with everyone, missing everyone else I’m not catching up with, worried that I’m not giving the dog enough attention now that I’m a single parent, not eating well, not sleeping well, no time to plant my tomato seedlings before they get too leggy, too much craziness in my brain due to all of the above.

 

The letter:

Dear Honey,

You’re a popular lady but, for one already-skinny lass, you sure do spread yourself thin. With some simple reprogramming we’re confident you’ll get your life back on track.
First, some home truths…

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Meet you by the water tank

The letter request:

We seriously found our dream rental today and we need the PERFECT letter to convince the agent to rent to us. Can you help?

 

The letter:

Dear 129 Parker Street,

Not sure if you remember us but we met yesterday? We’re Robby and Amy – tall, smiley guy and not-so-tall flame-haired Canadian lass? There were a lot of people … you may not have noticed us … it’s okay.

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Have crushes on cool people

The letter request:

I would like a letter from my child self to my adult self to rediscover my inner child that has been lost amongst societal pressures. I need some creative ideas of how to do this and reignite my sense of adventure! My child self has always enjoyed making things and being creative particularly making jewellery and printmaking, hugs, sticking up for the underdog, dancing, reading, trying new things and meeting new people, travel, being spontaneous and laughing. Things that my adult self likes that child Emma doesn’t like include worrying about the future, worrying about work and my career (or lack of!), remaining quiet when I should speak up and watching too much TV.

 

The letter request:

Hi Emma of today,

Long time no see. One minute we’re chasing friends in the playground – the only goal being to reach them, tap them, scream ‘You’re It!’ then get the hell outta there – the next minute we’re expected to chase careers, money, security, an endless yet inexplicable shopping list of must-haves. The deal’s pretty much the same, as far as I can tell: we’re still meant to reach them and tap them, only this time we’re supposed to scream ‘I’m It!’ and then stay. B u t   what if, as is the case with us, despite these new rules we still just feel like getting the hell outta there?

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Lubricate your eyeballs

The letter request:

I’ve just turned 25, I’ve never had a proper job in my life (i am not including cooking and barrista-ing for 4 years), I’m doing a doco course that i LOVE but that freaks me out (spending every day wondering am i good enough to even try to be a filmmaker?). I also do not have any skills, other than my cafe skills, that would help me support myself. So i need a letter that tells me it’s ok to be so utterly confused about life, money and career at the age of 25. oh and that i will, one day, meet a person to fall in love with! and that it’s not that I’m a complete weirdo, it’s just that i’m special.

 

The letter:

Dear Vessal,

Congratulations on recently turning 25 – wow! That’s awesome. It’s such a fantastic age to be. But also, I’m afraid, an age of robust introspection and rampant bewilderment. Some questions that may have flittered across your mind’s eye of late are sure to have included the following:

a) What am I doing with my life?
b) Do I have any prospect of succeeding in what I really want to be doing?
c) Am I good enough?
d) What is art?
e) Is art important? (as deemed by Nicole Kidman at the 2003 Academy Awards)
f) Should I explore back-up career options?
g) What am I doing with my life?

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Crops in Tuvalu

The letter request:

I just had the most bizarre experience with the dry cleaner, could you write to tell him that he’s an idiot?

 

The letter:

Dear Drycleaner,

I write in relation to our recent altercation. I’ll remind you of who I am because I suspect that you are the type to have altercations with customers so often that they all become a blur.

Me (pretty lady with long eyelashes)You lost my belt? Really?
You (grumpy man with bad attitude)- Yep.
M- Oh dear. What are you going to do now?
Y- Wait a week or so and see if it turns up.
M- Well, I can’t wear that coat without a belt.
Y- (Bored yawn)
M- I catch public transport so I need that coat this week.
Y- Have you searched your car?
M- No. You already said that you lost it. (getting a little angry by now, I must admit) What will I wear to work? I only have one coat.
Y- Hmmph. I don’t believe you only have one coat.
M-  I do only have one coat!
Y- God, if this is stressing you, you must lead a pretty charmed life! Why don’t you turn on SBS tonight and have a look at people who have real problems.

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Jennie from the Block

The letter request:

I do a few different things to pay the bills but mostly I’m just working on my art.  I’m happy enough living in near poverty, it’s all part of the game, but after a recent demoralising trip to the accountant I am considering topping myself.

 

The letter:

Dear Jennie from H&R Block,

Thank you for doing my tax for me this morning. It’s not my favourite thing to do. I don’t mind earning the money but I really hate the part where I have to gather all my paperwork around me and look at what I’ve got. I find it’s a little like vomiting after a big night out or cleaning up after a party. Possibly because I haven’t got that much money to count.

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