Thursday, January 18, 2007

Dear Vince Vaughn...

Dear Bitter Amanda,

I am a true wedding crasher. I arrive at weddings before they begin, and try to get either the bride or groom alone to ask if they have truly considered the consequences of the actions they are about to take. Unfortunately, I’ve been banned from every church, synagogue, and wedding hall in the area. How can I convince these institutions that I provide an essential public service which can possibly save couples enormous amounts of time and money in the future when they realize the errors of their ways and want to divorce?

~Just trying to help in CT

Dear Vince Vaughn,
Tough break! Those bastards in charge of joining couples for all eternity (ish) are just in it for the money! Obviously if they’re banning you, they see you as a threat, which tells me that they agree with your goals in some small, hidden way. And you know what that means! Their spirits can be broken. Like the parent of a child in the middle of a toy store, asking over and over and over for a new toy, you can wear these people down, champ! Just keep up with what you’re doing, and eventually they’ll be so exhausted from the fight that they’ll give in.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Thursday, January 11, 2007

Dear Sir Thomas Moore...

Dear Bitter Amanda,

I have a new mission in life. My goal is to make all the happy couples in the world as bitter and jaded about relationships as I am. How would you recommend starting this monumental task?

~On a Quest

Dear Sir Thomas Moore,
Wow. I read your letter, and picturing the utopia you described brought tears to my eyes. What a beautiful sentiment. I can’t even move past the visions of single, cynical, solitary little sugarplums dancing in my head to a symphony of bitterness. It’s like you read my mind and learned exactly what I imagine heaven to be. Minus the rivers of flowing hot fudge, anyway.
However, it is a massive undertaking. But I respect your ambition and you definitely have the right attitude! I think your best bet is to strike from a few different angles. Off the top of my head, I’m going to suggest recruiting help. Sure, St. Nicholas is the top guy, but would he be able to spread Christmas cheer without his helper elves? No, he would not. And you, St. Singleness, cannot send packages of bitterness down the chimneys of couples without some assistance. So get the word out there! (Might I suggest writing an advice column?...) After that, you could
take my other advice.
Keep fighting the good fight!
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda

Tuesday, January 09, 2007

Dear Wisteria Lane...

Dear Bitter Amanda,

Have you ever been in the following situation? You meet someone for the first time, and you're making polite introductory conversation. And then THAT question comes up. The "Are you seeing anyone" question. And when you reply "No, I'm single" they give you a sad pitying look, which is followed by an awkward silence, and then an offer of "well, I know some single people I can try to set you up with..." You later find out that the single people they were referring to are single for a reason (you know; crazy, fugly, criminal record, obsessed with Yanni, etc.) What would be a good response to the "are you seeing anyone question" that will make it clear that I am not desperate enough to want to date their high-school dropout, flea-infected, eleven-fingered younger brother when the only thing we have in common is that we're single??

~Not desperate

Dear Wisteria Lane,
I loathe that question! People in relationships are WAY too comfortable throwing it around. It's basically like asking, "Are you as happy as I am?" The ONLY time that question is appropriate is if you are chatting with someone you are interested in dating. Period. Other than that, it is just not acceptable.
So, my happily single friend, here's how to avoid any pitying looks (from condescending couples) AND blind dates with the bottom of the barrel. Always answer, "Are you seeing anyone?" with "Oh...I'm sorry, you're not really my type." UNLESS, of course, they're using the question appropriately. Then it's your call, pumpkin.
Solitarily yours,
Bitter Amanda