A symbol of the passing of the digits

The letter request:

So, I adored my old phone number. I’d loved and cherished it since 2000. My number’s finest quality was that I could remember it. Yet I was also attached to the journey associated with it. So, I was forced to give up my cherished phone number in an untimely manner – circa mid 2010  – by the combined incompetencies of Telstra and Virgin. Now the phone number formerly known as mine, has a new owner.  From slow-drip accounts: a “young person”, “a girl, or a preadolescent teenage boy I guess”. I know this because I failed to uniformly tell anyone much about my change in number. If you were in my orbit at the time, you figured it out. But in the last few months reports have started to trickle in, as people who haven’t called me in the last year and a half try to pin me down.

 

The letter:

Hi! Is that Amanda?

Jokes, jokes, I know you’re not Amanda. I’m Amanda.

But I’ve called 0414 xxx 051, right?

Jokes, jokes, this is a letter not a phone call. I’m not crazy. I thought I’d write, rather than call, because I know you’re up to here with people calling you and asking for Amanda, so please let me explain.

Continue reading “A symbol of the passing of the digits”

Auf wiedersehen

The letter request:

About a month ago I started hanging out with this girl, who I find incredibly beautiful, smart, funny and a wee bit strange. Things were going good in a relaxed and casual way, until… she freaked out. We talked about it, and she explained what happened but then I got a text saying we shouldn’t see each other anymore. Since then I’ve been trying to meet up with her, but she seems more and more distant and less and less interested. She’s leaving and won’t talk to me – I’d really like to meet up with her at least once before she goes back to Germany forever. I miss spending time with her.

 

The letter:

Dear Heike,

This is something that could happen…

I send this letter. You don’t respond. On the 22 April 2010, you fly back to Germany. We never see each other again.

You move into a flat that’s poky but gets lots of sunlight, even in wintertime when the sky is heavy and so low you can reach up and skim it with your fingertips. Despite the fact you’re mega smart, you struggle to find your dream job. Times are tough, so they keep telling us.

Continue reading “Auf wiedersehen”

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?

Continue reading “Lubricate your eyeballs”

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.

Continue reading “Crops in Tuvalu”