Dear Ms. Kan:
Thank you for saying everything I’ve been saying (to my husband) for the past decade I’ve spent in higher education. You’ve made me feel validated, something I don’t get particularly often because I’m scared of social media (including this blog–see me there hiding behind my sarcasm?).
In my next life, I want to be you. In the meantime, perhaps you’re looking for summer interns . . . .
Guess where I am in this photo?
Dear Kid that Drives the Land Rover with the Tennessee Plates and Other Kid that Drives the Red Saturn:
I get that you don’t want a ticket for failing to have a neighborhood permit. It is definitely uncool to have your parents’ car towed, so I’ve deduced that you’ve taken to parking on my street where the rules are slightly less stringent. This is me being on to your plan.
However, I moved into the suburbs so I could stop having to parallel park in front of my own house. You, college student friends, aren’t allowing this to happen. So stop it. Stop snugging up to my house like you live there as you’ve been doing for the past month. Please.
Also, any parking enforcement officer could look at the size of my home and note that there is no way all the people who drive the cars parked in front of said home could possibly fit inside of it at the same time. No possible way. This is parking enforcement officers being on to your plan.
My next recourse is to leave a note on your windshield in my intimidating handwriting,