Dear Man in front of me in line at breakfast,
I like your fancy suit. You made me a little self-conscious about what I was wearing (reefs, leggings, long skirt, t-shirt, long sleeved shirt, smock, scarf) so I made a joke about looking homeless (which is pretty accurate). Then you said I just looked like I was a Peace Corps Volunteer. Which made me feel warm and fuzzy inside. Then you told me you were the Director of the Office of Global Health and HIV for the Peace Corps. Which made me feel like I wish I was wearing something nicer when I met you... Maybe next time. But probably not. This is pretty standard, r 
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Dear Namibians,
You'll be happy to know that you are not the only ones who let your cell phones ring during important things (i.e. while you're lecturing during class or during the opening ceremony of a prestigious conference). Apparently little progress has been made on this issue in the past 3 years. Millenium Development Goal #9, anyone? Hopeful, r
Dear Kenyan Professor,
Remember when you wanted to know who was from Emory and who was from Kenya? And it went something like this... "Can everyone from St. Paul's raise their hands?" [[all the black people raise their hands]] "Can everyone from Emory raise their hands?" [[all the white people raise their hands]] That felt a little awkward. And unnecessary. But mostly unnecessary, r
Dear Winter in Kenya,
I did NOT know I was going to be meeting you here. I am woefully unprepared. The warmest thing I packed was my sleeping bag and I don't think that's appropriate business-wear. No offense but I'm hoping for a Global Warming miracle. WARM regards, r
Dear Taxi driver,
The ride from the airport to our hotel took about 15 minutes. During this period, you used your wiper fluid 24 times. (Seriously, I counted.) Is that really necessarily? Especially if it's already raining? Just wondering, r
Dear Kenyan woman next to me on the plane,
Thanks for the abrupt introduction back into African culture (i.e. when you shoved your hand under my butt in order to hand me the pillow I was sitting on). I'm baaack, r
Dear CapitalOne,
SERIOUSLY?! I'm not eligible for a single credit card?! Not any of them?! How is this possible? I even applied for the one YOU recommended. My credit is NOT bad. I just don't have any of it. You gotta let a girl start SOMEWHERE. Jerk, r
Dear Planet Fitness,
I'm a little creeped out. Both by the speed of your comment. And also the existence of it in general. Do you get notified every time a lowly blog mentions your name? Can you give me a discount? r
Dear Planet Fitness,
Nice to join your team of gym-goers! Well, I HALF joined.... Ok, let's just say when I visited you the other day I expressed some very strong interest in joining. That's a good first step, right?! See you again soon? r
Dear Commuters of America,
Get off the highway! Here I come! For the first time in 3 years... I will be driving on a U.S. highway. Seriously, be careful. Love, r Dear County Cops and State Troopers, Pleeeease cut me some slack. I'm trying so so hard! Love, r
Dear Heinously large/LOUD bug in my room last night,
You were silent for the first 30 minutes I was in bed and then RIGHT as I was about to fall asleep you start BUZZING around! And incidentally, your buzzing sounds a lot like my phone vibrating so I kept waking up to check it. Then back to sleep again. Then buzz again. Sleep. Buzz. Sleep. Buzz. Sleepbuzzsleepbuzzzz. You know what I have to say to you, Mister?!!? I love you. I could just close my eyes and feel like I was in Namibia all over again. Thanks for the throwback, r
Dear 90-year old man,
Are we wearing the same shoes?! This is NOT good. The worst part? I have to wear these Shape-ups for at least the next 10 years of my life to get every penny out of them. Who pays that much for HEINOUS sneakers?! (And when I say "pay" I mean both in dollars and in pride.) Just me, r
Dear New Job,
HATE YOU!! Ok ok ok, not EVERYTHING about you. I really like the people I work with (Hi, S and N) but I probably dislike everything about my job description. Turns out, I'm a terrible server. I wonder how long it will take them all to notice/care. Counting the days, r
Dear New Job,
LOVES YA!! Your co-workers love you, not because of your serving skills, but because you can doooooown an Irish Carbomb. ("GOOD NEW HIRE!!!") This is going to be a GOOD fit. See you tomorrow (for that stupid double shift), r
Dear Self,
Write less about tampons. You're in America now. There are boundaries. Etiquette. Appropriate and inappropriate things to talk about. You're probably not so aware of any of these things. You should Google it. Love, r
Dear Male friend,
When your mom comes downstairs at 3 in the morning to yell at you for being too loud-- that is NOT the right time to ask her if she has a tampon your friend can use. But thanks for trying, r
Dear Girl I met in the bathroom last night,
Remember when I asked you for a tampon and in response you told me your life story? And then tried to give me a condom? NOT helpful, nor interesting. Thanks for nothing, r
Dear Sketchers Shape-ups,
I don't feel like I'm having a mini-workout every time I wear you. You're supposed to simulate walking on sand? I WALKED ON REAL SAND FOR TWO YEARS, BITCH! This shit's bogus, r
Dear Parents,
WHEN DID YOU STOP CONSUMING A NORMAL AMOUNT OF FOOD?! We have NO food in our house. You're making it very hard to break my Cracklin' Oat Bran habit. A bowl of lettuce does NOT count as a full lunch. I'm so hungry, r 
Dear Future Employer,
First of all, that application was WAY INTENSE considering I'm only applying to be a server! I didn't know there was going to be a pop quiz. Second of all, not even GOOGLE knows what "french spooning" is! I'm not entirely convinced you didn't make it up. But also, I think considering I had no idea what it is, I answered the question prrretty well! My answer looked something like this: Hire me anyway? Kthanks, r
Dear Mom,
I was just going through all the crap that you've put in my old room while I've been gone for the past two+ years-- and guess what I found buried under everything, all crumpled and wrinkled. My college diploma. It looks like I graduated from Homeless University. Thanks, r
Dear Self,
I know you LOVE Cracklin' Oat Bran cereal. And that you haven't had it ONCE in the past 2.5 years. But that doesn't mean you can eat it for THREE MEALS A DAY. Today's the last day, ok? Love, r P.S. Ok, TOMORROW'S the last day. Saturday at the very latest. Monday? We'll play it by ear.
Dear Wedding Bartender,
Thanks for serving me! I would have understood if you didn't. Seeing as when you asked how old I was my response was "Um, 21! No wait! 24!" And I didn't have any id on me. More than a little suspicious, I'd say. (For the record, I AM of legal drinking age.) But thanks for the trust, old man. 'Preciate it, r
Dear Monkey Bar,
Thank you for hosting the push-up competition that took place on your premises. I did THREE TIMES as many push-ups as I thought I could do. (Read: I thought I could only do one push-up, and I did THREE!) And I promise, next time I challenge my brother to a push-up competition (that I will obviously lose-- he did 50), I'll try to arrange the event NOT in the middle of your bar. Thanks for being a good sport, r
Dear First Public Toilet Experience I've Had Since I've Been Back,
You were.... AWESOME!!! I didn't have to ask anyone if there was toilet paper in there because I already knew there would be. I wasn't surprised by a squat toilet. I could put the toilet paper IN the toilet. It flushed. It flushed without me having to pour a bucket of water into the bowl. God, you were great! THANK YOU, r
Dear Self,
I know you just got home and all but you need to keep yourself in check. No one wants to hear about how much you love wall-to-wall carpeting and how much you've missed it these past 2+ years. Who gets that excited about carpeting? Just you, r P.S. But it IS pretty spectacular, isn't it?! It keeps your toesies so warm!! I'm going to go ahead and say: You're not a developed country unless your houses have wall-to-wall carpeting. It's THAT good.
Dear Friends,
I'm so so broke. But I still want to hang out. And my natural inclination is to say "Hey, let's get together for some drinks." But you can go ahead and assume by "drinks" I mean "water." Because that's about the only thing that falls into my budget these days. Love ya, r
Dear Maryland,
You are FREEZING! I'm wearing sweatpants, a sweater, AND a jacket. And I'm indoors. Florida, here I come! r
Dear Tiny, little computer,
I looooove you. YOU'RE PINK! But also, your keyboard is so so small. I feel like I'm just punching keys and sometimes getting lucky with the right letter. You make me feel like my fingers need to go on a diet, r
Dear America,
YOU HAVE RESEALABLE CHIP BAGS NOW?! (That's new, right?) This is an America I can really get behind. Love, r
Dear America,
You have so much to offer! Top of the list of things to be excited about: I can drink tap water again! It's the little things, r
Dear Lady in the wrong spot at the wrong time,
Sorry I ran over your foot with my 823473827 ton luggage cart. I mean, I'm just estimating the weight, but I think it's preeeetty close to accurate. So I can imagine the pain you must be in right now. Hope they don't have to amputate! r
Dear Self,
Holy crapola you're so excited! The first time in America in 2.5 years! Hope they are ready for your big debut tomorrow!! You can measure the excitement by use of exclamation marks!!! So many exclamation marks!!!!!!!!!!!!!! Love, r P.S. After over 4 months of drinking bottled water you screw up THE DAY BEFORE you're supposed to get on a 31 hour flight and drink the tap water. You better cross your fingers you don't vom on the plane. (Maybe ask everyone else to keep their fingers crossed also. After all, it's for the good of the whole plane.) 
Dear Anyone who needs a Doctor AND/OR a Massage,
THIS FISH IS FOR YOU!!: You're welcome for the rec, r 
Dear Cambodia,
I've seen a lot of not-so-helpful signs in my life. Mostly in the past two years. But this one might take the cake: Thanks for telling me how to get to "this way." Love, r
Dear Street Kid,
I can't believe I fell for the ole "What's that on your shirt?" trick!!! But more importantly, I can't believe a 12-year-old street kid flicked me on my nose! WHO ARE YOU?! r
Dear Fanta,
I would just like to raise your attention to a little thing in your industry called FALSE ADVERTISING. I'm referring to the can of Fanta I bought yesterday that was a dark purple and had pictures of blueberries on it. My thoughts? "YUM! Blueberry Fanta?!" No. It was root beer. Fix it, r
Dear Man who offered to sell me cocaine last night,
Not if my life depended on it. I can't even drink coffee without tripping out. I can't imagine what a real upper would do to my system. Smell ya later, r
Dear Woman who sold me a dress (ok, TWO dresses... and a shirt) at the market,
I like you. Mostly because after I handed you the money you said "Cambodia is glad you are here!" Of course Cambodia is glad. I have ZERO impulse control. What country/shop owner doesn't love that? You're welcome, r
Dear Guy at the bar,
I've never had anyone buy me a shot because I looked so unhappy before. But god, that was a loooong day. I WAS TIRED, OK?! Also, that shot was HEINOUS. I know you bought it because it was pink but I guess that isn't always the best way to go, huh? It tasted like burning asshole. But seriously, thanks. It was nice of you to try and brighten the lives of 4 tired-looking girls. Next time make it a tequila shot, r
Dear Lady who tried to give us directions,
I'm going to go ahead and say: Nice try but there were some major flaws in your delivery. Flaw #1: You didn't use any words. Flaw #2: I have NO idea what you mean. But actually maybe I do. Tell me if I'm correct. From what I understand from your hand motions, I'm supposed to dance in a circle three times and then fly directly upwards and to the left? Yes? r
Dear Skin,
I'm sorry I've done this to you. You really don't react to third degree [sun]burns very well. All I have to say is: Thank god your peeling on my stomach and not on my face because it looks like I have some sort of heinous skin disease. Is this what it feels like to be Michael Jackson? Too soon? r
Dear War Remnants Museum,
Gosh you were heavy. I was NOT prepared for that. I thought it was going to be like the last Vietnam-American War museum we went to-- just a couple pictures of smiling soldiers and some old bullet displays. Not at all. It was like walking through the Holocaust Museum. But worse. Because this time WE were the Germans. It's a little hard to take it all in, r
Dear Mr. T,
First of all, your name was taken a long, long time ago by someone who pulled it off much better than you, an old, skinny Vietnamese man (arguably wearing a toupee), with one piece of bling on his finger. Second of all, don't call me "baby." Third of all, there WASN'T a toilet on that 16 hour bus ride. So I guess it wasn't such a silly question after all, jerk. Please go away, r
Dear Computer next to the one I'm using right now,
I know you're probably a bajillion203948203948 times faster than this one. (I'm basing that on the fact that it looks like you weren't mass produced in 1982 like this one does.) And honestly I'm really tempted to switch over (it took about 3 minutes to type this sentence). But I saw some lady using you to Google "Scabies" yesterday and I don't wanna eff around with that shit. No hard feelings, k? r P.S. I haven't told anyone else about your possible contamination. That way you won't be ignored and my slow computer is always free. Win-win!!
Dear Reststop toilet,
I know you probably think I'm hating on you because you were a squat toilet. I'm not. I've gotten pretty damn good at those. But when there's a faucet handle directly in the path of the downward trajectory of your squat... that's different. And when that faucet handle is shaped more like a razor-sharp knife... that's WAY different. My left cheek will never be the same, r
Dear Sun,
You win again, El Sol, you sneaky bitch. IT WAS CLOUDY. Hence the reason I didn't wear any sunblock. But sunny enough to wear shades evidently. I look like a raccoon. And I can see it on everyone's face as I walk by. I'll get you back. One day. Somehow, r
Dear Heinous Bitches on the one free computer provided by our hotel,
If you KNOW someone is waiting to use the computer COMMON COURTESY dictates that you GET THE HELL OFF. ASAP. You do NOT use the computer for 30 minutes and then scoot over and let your friend use it for another 30 minutes. You wasted and hour of my life and I hate you, r
Dear 6-year old Vietnamese girl,
Thanks so much for (very forcibly) sharing your popcorn with me. But that one that fell on the floor and that other one that you already put in your mouth-- you can keep those. Also, even though I'm pretty sure they were supposed to be "love pats"-- stop hitting me! I've got a wicked sunburn and that shit hurts! Or maybe you were learning to hit like those Vietnamese men on the bus. Were you trying to tell me to move my leg? Hitting is not the answer, r
Dear Vietnam,
Granted I've only known your people for a few days but I've already made some pretty solid observations. 1.) Your men have long, yellow fingernails. Gross. 2.) They smoke approximately 3475893475 packs of cigarettes a day. (No joke, they were smoking on the bus at 3 in the morning.And by the end of that 24 hour ride, that bus was one giant ash tray. Double gross.) 3.) When verbal communication fails (because obviously I don't speak Vietnamese), the next tactic in getting the message across is to hit. (To be fair though, the message you were trying to get across all three times this happened was "Move your leg" so it worked pretty well.) That's about all, r 
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