Thursday, December 23, 2010

Dear You: Papa K Verbally Assults His Old Boss To The Blogosphere

Shelle Edit: I did internet bleep out the curse words in his letter for those people with sensitive eyes or are wearing the proverbial "ear muffs" :)  PapaK is doing an awesome thing on his blog where if you leave a comment he will donate a dollar to the Make-a-Wish Foundation.  So hop on over to his blog and leave a comment on THIS post.   

Hope you all have a Merry Christmas and a Happy New Year!

Dear You:

I first met Vicki during my job interview for a sales position at a staffing company.

I had struggled after graduating college to find my place in the work-a-day world. I had stumbled through several lines of work (retail, restaurant, insurance, etc.) and this interview with her was my opportunity to get a “real” job! Something with substance! Something with incentives! Something with a base salary! Something with benefits! Something with career potential!

She was a tall, middle-aged looking woman with a nose that more resembling a beak than a human breathing apparatus. Her fingers were long and boney and reminded me of something that might belong to a vampire from a silent, black-and-white movie. She fiddled with her hair during the interview like most high school cheerleaders do when they’re talking to the Varsity quarterback.

I could tell she liked me and I freakin’ killed that interview.

She hired me.

Then I killed that d*** job.

Despite having a penchant for not really wanting to talk to people, I was a newly married dude with something to prove to my newly minted trophy wife. I won all the “Top Rookie Salesperson” awards you could win and was responsible for raising the branch I worked for to new heights previously unmatched by past sales people.

I proved myself beyond a shadow of a doubt to everyone… except to that beak-nosed, vampire fingered, cheerleader wannabe b**** of a boss that hired me.

As it turned out Vicki was a power hungry, man-hating divorcee with an unconscious need to belittle her worker bees and conveniently make her marriage to her job THE ONE AND ONLY priority to everyone.

She also:

-Stole sales from me and reaped the benefits of commissions on how well the branch was doing
while depleting me from extra money that should have been mine.

-Remained an active “selling branch manager” which enabled her to extract both a salesperson’s
commission check and a branch managers commission check from the company

-Falsely accused me of going “behind her back” when in reality I couldn’t wipe my butt without her
knowing about it

-Made me keep a journal of what I was doing every 15 minutes for a month only to file it away never
to be seen again

-Made me draft every email and let her read it before I sent it because she didn’t think I “wrote good

-Wouldn’t allow me to leave AT 5 O’CLOCK ONE DAY A WEEK in order for me to attend a bible study

-Accused me of taking credit for her ideas

-Gave credit to others on employees I found, screened and placed at jobsites

-After I left, she denied me my last commission check valued at around $2,000.

-Did not allow me to contact my customers to let them know I was leaving when I handed in my

The list goes on but at the risk of sounding too much like a whiny little b****… I’ll stop right there. I’d never met, and hope I’ll never meet again, a boss like Vicki.

After enduring nearly two years of her never-ending stream of crap… I found a way out by getting
another job.

After getting into a normal workplace setting, I was able to start the healing process and realize how
much sooner I should have just walked up to her and barfed this random stream of thoughts:

Hey Vicki… You constantly bemoan the fact you’re divorced and how much of an a** your ex-husband is but I’m here to tell you that if I was married to you I would have left your a** too because you’re bat-s*** crazy! He was probably sick and tired of your narcissistic personality and false accusations! Do you know that everyone who works for you quits? Look around you! Everyone who has worked here since I got hired or after I got hired is gone! That’s not a problem with them… that clearly points to a problem WITH YOU!! Do you know your nose looks like a beak? Instead of getting that boob job you were hoping none of us noticed then perhaps you should have gotten some rhinoplasty to change that beak into some sort of tangible nose! If you were a dude… I’d go ahead and help get the process started by breaking your nose with a tire iron! I helped make this branch over a MILLION DOLLARS! If you want to b**** at me for not placing a period where a comma should have been in an email then I’m just going to take a huge s*** on your desk because everything else in this world is secondary to your pathetic managing skills. You just lost the best employee you’ll ever have… I quit.

Well… I feel better now.

Anyone else had a boss they wanted to eviscerate?

Papa K

Monday, December 20, 2010

Dear You: Breaking Free

Dear You,

You're making me hate you.  We've been on this road for the better part of our marriage now, but lately it seems with each cruel word, each controlling action, each time you remind me how useless you think I am you're making me hate you a little more.

And you know what?  I'm glad.  Because you used to make me hate myself.  I used to believe you.  I used to think I was useless and fat and stupid and spoiled and ridiculous.  I used to think it was rational for you to give me an "allowance" because you don't want me to spend "your" money.  I used to think it was okay for you to treat me like a second class citizen.

But I don't think that anymore.  You know what I think?  I think you're the useless one.  I think you're an insecure, cruel, shell of a man and you resent me because I'm better than you.  You married above yourself, asshole, and everybody knows it.  My parents knew it when they told me not to marry a boy from "the other side of the tracks".  Your parents knew it when they were so out of depth in my world that they embarrassed us with their backward behavior at our wedding.  Everyone in my life knew it but I refused to see it.  Bravo; you put on quite a show.  You convinced me that you weren't marrying me for my daddy's money or the doors he opened for you.

I hate that I was so wrong about you.  I hate how you've turned things around in your mind so much that you think you're above me.  You think it's okay to belittle me.

I gave up so much for you.  I gave up a scholarship to a prestigious private college to go to a state school with you.  I abandoned my dream of law school because you asked it of me.  You wanted to start our "life", build our business, start your career and you didn't want the intensity of me being in law school holding you back.  And I gave these things up without complaint because I loved you.  It never mattered to me how much money you had, where you were from, or what your family was like.  You mattered to me.

You did, until you turned into a monster.

Your slow fade into this cruel, petty person you've become is such a shame.  You had so much potential.  You are very smart and driven and motivated.  We could  have been so happy together if you were the man I thought you were when I married you.  If you hadn't allowed your insecurity and resentment to build and build until the only way for you to release it was to spew it onto me and onto our children.

You used to make me proud to be your wife.  Now you just make me sick.

Here's a little secret, sir.  You know how I told you I'm going to grad school whether you like it or not starting this fall?  And you know how you dragged your feet about it and didn't want it to happen but ultimately "relented" and "allowed" it?  Well, guess what?  After I finish (and you pay for it) my children and I will be getting the hell out of here and we won't be looking back.

You can enjoy this luxurious prison you built for me all by yourself.  I am breaking free. 


If you have a letter to write send it in!  HERE is more info on what to do!  We want to hear from you!!!

So leave a comment, follow comments, come back and comment on other people's comments. Tell us how you feel or what you think!

Wednesday, December 15, 2010

Dear You: I long for you

Dear you,

How many letters must I have written that were left unsent? How many times did I stare aimlessly at
your number in my phone only to never call? How many hints have I tried to secretly muster out of
family members to hear how you were doing…to even hear your name.

It’s obsessive, sad, pathetic really.

I am a married woman after all.

Yet, why then can I not stop thinking of you, dreaming of you, wanting you, needing you.

Writing these words alone disgusts me.

I am not that vulnerable helpless romantic; at least I tried so hard not to be when I was with you.

Now that’s all I want to be, if it means I get to be vulnerable in your arms.

The words…they are just so tasteless and sickening, I’m nauseated by them myself, not to mention
embarrassed and ashamed, but I can’t help feeling this way.


That’s what it is.

I long for you.

I know I’ve inflicted this pain upon myself. I chose this life without you. I sent you away. I hurt you. I
broke you. I left you.

Then why am I the one left broken?

Why am I the one lingering onto the past; a past that can never be a part of the future.

I know I selfishly only told you this when it was too late, but I love you.

I know at that point I still had a fleeting chance to make you mine because I saw you loved me too, but
again, I naively or cowardly chose my current path instead.

I chose the path of safety, security and stability over the path of spontaneous uncertainty.

I chose the path of comfort and luxury over the path of struggles and simplicity.

I chose my superficial checklist over passion and intensity.

…Over love and genuine authenticity.

I lied to myself and convinced myself that this life would make me happy… that Somehow I’d find
meaning in it too.

On the contrary, I’m left empty and trapped in a world replete with meaningless illusions of grandeur
and external appearances.

Although consistently consumed by his presence, I am ever so lonely.

He doesn’t understand me the way you do.

He doesn’t listen to me the way you do.

He doesn’t see me the way you do.

He doesn’t look at me the way you do.

He loves me, but he doesn’t know me.

The way you do.

Forever hoping, dreaming and loving…



Monday, December 13, 2010

Dear You: Mom

Here's another great Dear You Letter!  I've got a few to post so I will also post one on Wednesday so make sure to comment and follow comments!  A lot of you have shared with me how it has been kind of nice to write what you have down... kind of freeing.  I'm so glad... I hope those of you that are wondering if you want to send a letter, that you do!

Dear You--Mom:

You stumbled over my blog by accident. I wasn't thrilled about it, particularly when you started trying to talk to me about my posts.  And I really wasn't happy when you started giving out the link to other people.  But I decided that wasn't going to stop me from writing what I want, how I want, when I want. 

But mom, now you've crossed the line.

You've been reading me for awhile, so you know I don't post about myself all that frequently. I write stories. Vampires. Crime. Whatever else pops into my head.  They are works of fiction.  Products of my overactive imagination.

Some of the tales are better than others.  Sometimes the stories write themselves, others I take months to polish until I get them right.

I've written stories that made you cry. That made you laugh out loud. That got you all hot and bothered. And that's the mark of a good writer - that I can make you feel...anything.

Just because I write about a vampire does not make me one. I write about murder - I certainly have never committed the crime. And just because I may, on occasion, write about the other woman doesn't mean that I have experience being the other woman.

I have a good imagination. I read. A lot. I research plot points. Just as any good writer would.

Sure, I can write emotions. Do you think at 32 years old I haven't had my heart broken? That I haven't been sad? Hurt? Scared? Scarred? Wondered "what if"?   Show me a person that hasn't felt all those things and I'll show you someone who knows nothing but denial.

I draw on those feelings to convey my stories.  Just as any good writer would.  So don't read things into my words which aren't there. 

Now... If my stories bother you, you have a choice. You can accept my pieces as the works of fiction that they are or you can stop reading.

The choice is yours. I love you. But your accusations were way out of line. And we will not be having this discussion again...


Monday, December 6, 2010

Dear You: Lost Cabin Pressure

Leave your comments of help or advice or your own frustration.  Comment on others comments... let's have a discussion... Thank you so much Lost Cabin Pressure for sending this letter in I'm sure there are so many out there that will relate!

Dear You,

I am frustrated. Many times a week, several times a month, and numerous times a year I hear, “Why do I have to read your blog to know what you are thinking? Why do I have to read your blog to know what is bothering you?” It is then followed by, “I really wish you would just talk to me.”

Some of the bigger things you were upset I didn’t come to you about were a conversation you heard when I was talking to my mother about being upset about a non-fiction book I had just read; I was jealous and upset over the relationship the author had with his father, and I was longing to have a better relationship with my father. I was sad for days. You were upset because you didn’t know what was going on. You were even more upset when you read my blog and learned how bullied I was in school when we were in middle school. You had no idea, and didn’t know the passion I had to stop and prevent bullying until you saw the video I made. Why hadn’t I said anything?

I understand your frustration.

You know I had my heart ripped out when I realized that everything I thought about my first marriage turned out to be a lie, a misunderstanding, or just sheer stupidity. I built walls that have started to crumble and still stand, like the Berlin wall in the early 80’s. It’s hard to see what is in my heart through a protective barrier. These walls have started to come down over time. My walls seem to have been taken down when we got married. I was an open book. You could ask my anything and I would give you the answer.

It has been recently I have started to put some walls back up, out of fear. Thing change when you have a child. I know this. My first marriage centered around the birth of our oldest child. I knew the stress that is involved with having a child, and I knew that the stress of a child is overwhelming. The desire to make sure there is enough money in the back, food in the cupboards, and a roof over their heads. This puts a damper on the purse strings. With you not working it has been tough. It has been tough on our growing family, it has been tough on our resolve, and it has been tough on our families.

So why are these walls being built again?

There was an analogy I read in an article not long ago. If you have ever been on an airline you surely have watched and listened to the pre-flight safety briefing. You have heard the announcer say, in the event of a loss of cabin pressure, an oxygen mask will come down. You are instructed to put a mask on yourself before you put a mask on your children; because in order to take of your children, you have to take care of you.

I feel like we are losing cabin pressure. The oxygen masks have come down and you are pouring all your energy into taking care of the kids and not taking care of yourself. What do I mean? The glue that holds relationships together is sex. Not the actual act of sex, but intimacy, a night out without anyone but us, and the spontaneous things we did before we had a child in the house full-time. So when it comes to talking about sex, and things that are bothering me, I find it hard to talk.

Why? Because you have said at every opportunity that sex is something you feel should never be talked about. You said you parents never talked about it, so why should you? We never really talked about sex before because we had sex nearly 75% more than we are having now. I have stated that in a healthy sexual relationship, sex plays about 10% in the overall happiness of the relationship, but in a relationship that is lacking in sex, it 70% in the overall happiness of the relationship. I want to talk to you about it.

I want to talk about it, but I feel that if you don’t want to talk about the things I want to talk about, then what is the point? Every time I open my mouth about sex, you get defensive and you feel bad about NOT wanting to have sex. I get that. You are putting a lot of time and energy into the kids. I know they appreciate it, but ignoring sex and the thought of talking about it is like goo gone to the glue that holds us together.

So every time you tell me, “Why don’t you talk to me about things,” it is like Reagan saying, “Tear down this wall” but like anything, you also have to tow the line. You have to put down your walls and talk about things you find uncomfortable to talk about.


Lost Cabin Pressure

If you have a letter to write send it in!  HERE is more info on what to do!  We want to hear from you!!!

Wednesday, December 1, 2010

Dear You: Desperate and Powerless

Hey, I'm so excited to finally post the first DEAR YOU letter! Please, if you have one to send in, SEND IT IN. CLICK HERE for more info on them. This email came to me through a made up email that was anonymous, the email name was (it even said in the email to please delete the email from them as soon as I posted the letter. So desperate and powerless I want you to know that I did, it is deleted :). There is a perfect example that there are many ways you can get what you want said to me so I can post it on here without even knowing who you are myself!

Without further ado...


I wish you would leave me alone. I am not strong enough to stop talking to you, so I wish you would do it for me.

You became so important to me, to my mind. I needed someone to tell my thoughts to. The fun ones and the bad ones and the really secretive ones. I found that in you. Along with that came falling a bit for you. I should not, but I really do like you, but that isn't completely true because it is a bit more than like but less than love, it is something right there in the middle. Whatever it is called or named it is not good for me.

In "real life" you wouldn't normally be a person I would be attracted to physically. But I didn't get to know you that way did I? I got to know you through emails and chats. I got to know your mind and you got to know mine. We have never met, we have never touched physically, yet the bond is there and it is as real as any bond I have formed with "real life" friends. You say all the right things, things I apparently needed to hear. You tell me I'm pretty, smart, fun, and alluring, delicious, yummy, delectable, and silly. I became addicted to hearing those things from you. I not only WANTED to hear them, but I NEEDED to. I began to do things I wouldn't normally do just to hear another compliment, your words became my drug.

Then I find that those words come easily to you to many others you email and chat with. What you say to me, you say to many. And I think what made it all so addicting was the illusion in my mind that I was more important. That is all anyone wants really, to feel special, the favorite, important. But I realize more and more that I am just one of many for you. I ignored it, pushed it aside, because I grasped so desperately onto those WORDS that made me feel so incredible.

But I don't want to WANT it or NEED it any longer.

I don't want you to be important.

So please, let me go, because I'm not strong enough to let you go.


Desperate and powerless.