An Open Letter to Maz~

Hey girl- what’s up?

So…

Da f*ck were you thinking?

Like literally. How do you not see the symptoms of a man-child when they are staring you dumb in the face? He literally is 25 and funneling beer in his snapchat story. How on Earth did that not scream “hasn’t left his college days behind”?

He was seeing you because he wants to relive those good old days in the basement of the Rugby House. You should’ve seen that coming when he made numerous comments about how he hated those “frat guys” but the guys on his team were his crew and how if he hadn’t fractured his shoulder, he could have gone pro or taken them to nationals.

Come on.

You’re not stupid. Stop acting stupid.

Also, stop dating pretty idiots. Sure, it was fun for a few months, but what lacks substance brings no worth to your life. And those boys lack so much substance.

Get your sh*t together girlfriend,

XO, Maz

An Open Letter to the Boy I’ll Always Love~

Hi, you suck,

You don’t actually. But I like to put you in your place from time to time. It just serves the purpose that I am in charge and have established dominance. I also know that you laughed at that, which is just another reason why I’m in charge of this situation.

You were the first boy that I truly loved outside of a familial tie. And don’t get crazy homie. I ain’t in love with you. I just love you, and yes there’s a difference, even though I’m sure that you’d love to argue that. Just shut it down now, there is a difference.

You’re the boy that I’ll marry when I’m 65, lived a whole life, had kids, became a widow and forgot what it’s like to talk to anyone besides cats. I’ll need company and I can put up with you extendedly. We do have a marriage pact, but I think we’re both way too hot of commodities to not be off the market by 30ish, so I won’t be Julia Roberts and you won’t be Nick Nolte. We won’t sing “I Say A Little Prayer for You”. I also know that you don’t understand that reference AT ALL, which is just one more thing that makes this work. I can tell you all the obscure movie references and you’ll tell me about all of the really great music you’ve been listening to, even if I think it’s sh*t at first.

You were the easiest love letter to write this week, because even though I don’t see you even nearly as often as I wish, I know that you’re always a phone call, text or FaceTime away. I know that if I need you for dumb advice in the middle of the drunken night, you give it to me straight, even though you know I probably will still make a stupid choice anyway. And you don’t judge me in the aftermath.

You are that best friend that time doesn’t erode. We can brush our teeth together and share your roommate’s face wash and still not be sick of each other immeadiatiately, shockingly.

I love you. Plain and simple. No strings attached, you know that I’m here at any single point that you may need me.

I’ll Try My Best, How Much Do I Invest?

M

An Open Letter to the Guy I’ll Always Fantasize About~

Thank you.

I’m not starting with “hi!”, I’m starting with thank you, because have you seen yourself in the mirror? Wow. Really, wow. You are a treat.

I don’t really know anything about you, whatsoever, other than when I see you, it gets a whole lot of emotions stirring, mostly lustful ones because again, wow. I always hope that you’re smart. You look like you should be smart, but you also look like you might use that smartness in a d*uchey way, which, let’s be real, is also hot.

I don’t fantasize that you’re very nice because, if I ever do grow a pair and approach you and you are as kind as you are beautiful, man I’m going to launch myself at you, climb you like a tree, as it were. Homie, you’re going down like a sack of potatoes. Good luck.

Keep wearing that peacoat around town, looking mighty fine. It does not go unappreciated.

Sincerely Yours (In My Dreams),

Maz

An Open Letter to the One I Always Break the Rules For~

Hi, hey, hello,

How’ve ya been? Good? Good. That’s good.

That’s really good. And I mean that. I actually love that you’re happy. I love that you’re in a good place and that you are smiling and that it has nothing to do with me.

I’ve waited for the day that this would make me happy and not jealous. And it finally has.

I haven’t forgotten what I felt with and about you and I sometimes have moments where I wonder if those feelings will ever go away. I hope that they don’t. Because I don’t want to forget that happy girl on the hill as the sunset. I don’t want to forget the laughter bouncing off of the steps of the statue. Or the sense of wonder felt exploring the market for the first time. I have no desire to forget that or you.

And I know that I don’t need to forget or diminish in order to feel that same level of happiness elsewhere. I can still hold those moments closely, but still feel the happiness of the moments that I live here and now. And I think that’s why I’m not jealous anymore, because I know that you can do the same.

I’m glad that you’re happy and I hope that you’re glad that I am too,

M

An Open Letter to an Ex-Whatever~

Hi! I’m sorry I went AWOL last week, I had the flu and couldn’t determine up from down, let alone write anything worth while. So, we interrupt our normal Ask Maz Monday programming to give you what was promised last week, which were “love” letters; so without furtherer ado, Love Letter #1:

Dear Ex-Whatever,

I have to admit that I was a little surprised when I got your text. I was a little surprised that one) I was hearing from you and two) you weren’t being a total d*uchebag. Actually, change that little surprise to shocked. I was shocked.

I was a little excited, because let’s face it, you’re hot. But then I remembered how you treated me. And before I replied with, “hey! I’m good, how have you been? We should catch up some time!” I stepped away, took a picture of the trashcan in my kitchen and sent it with the caption: “this reminded me of you.”

Just because you have a pretty face, doesn’t mean you can treat a person the way that you did and then expect to come back whenever you’re bored or between flings. It doesn’t work like that. I’m too busy for the games you play and I respect myself far too much than to allow myself to be the second choice. So next time you think about texting me, unless it’s an apology and a 15 step plan of how you’ve changed and intend to be better, you can politely f*ck off.

Have a great V-Day, hope you get VD,

Maz

A Hate Note to Germs~

Hey Germs around the world; f*ck off,

No, that doesn’t mean anything other than germs. I mean all the little things that weasel their way into your body and make you feel like sh*t. You’re assh*les!

I think that you’re mean spirited and you make me feel bad. I want you to go away and not come back. You’re like that mean girl in the seventh grade who laughs at my new shoes, even though I think they’re cool. Except, you’re a germ laughing at and crushing my health, even though I think being healthy is cool.

Signed,

A Seriously Delirious and Drugged Up on Nyquil MazzyMaz.

 

To the Guy Who Makes My Best Friend Sad~

What’s good, f*cker?

Have you lived a full life? Are you happy with the things you’ve done? Could you die right now knowing that you left your mark on the world? Because if not, you might want to get those things in line because I’m about ready to kill you.

Nothing is worse than seeing your best friend sad or upset or crying, especially nothing is worse than when it is caused by someone that you know is so not worth their time. Watching them trying to figure out what “they did wrong” makes me want to vomit.

You are just an assh*le who didn’t recognize this beautiful creature lurking right before you, and abide by their simple request, whether it be for space or for more of your time. So, basically, if I didn’t already think you’re an idiot and scum, I certainly do now.

I also can’t tell you how many times I tell my best friend to let you go. And just know, that if they ever do go back to you, I will bite my tongue since you’re already dead to me, but the second you slip out of line, you’re toast. I know people who know people. The Jersey Italians will know your address.

Signed,

A Supremely Pissed Off Best Friend