To whom it may concern,
I have known Tanya R. for 23 years and can attest to her ability to outperform any candidate you may have considered for this position. I am writing to offer my highest recommendation to Ms. R, a cherished friend and trusted advisor. She would be well suited for the position of “Highest Grossing Fiction Writer Ever”, as demonstrated by her past achievements, as well as her personal aspirations.
Tanya’s creative nature is arguably amongst the finest in the world. Her ability to circumvent expectation and pursue unusually twisted plots allows her to fully explore all expects of her own imagination. She gains inspiration from self reflection and occurrences in her own life which she subsequently transforms into a story of epic proportions. People of all ages are oftentimes in awe of her stories; they are thrilling and present such inherently human characterizations that each one proves hard to put down. She cares about each person she fabricates which is demonstrated through her background knowledge for even the most tertiary character in her story. This is also a testament to her organizational skills. Suffice to say, she’s got them.
Her creativity has been present throughout her life, though released through a variety of outlets, such as stenciling, dancing, painting, drawing, playing music and paper crafts. These artistic vehicles have effectively produced a well rounded yet freethinking adult. Tanya is able to communicate through these each of these art forms in a playful manner, though at the same time, she elicits a deeper emotion. Not to sound too overwrought, Tanya s able to visualize her own story so thoroughly that she could create an entire world in a matter of minutes if she so chose.
Tanya’s own trials have offered a lot to her creativity as well. Though she is generally introverted, she comes alive when talking about writing and art. She considers each aspect of criticism and is extremely self aware of her writing style. During the time I’ve known her, Tanya continues to develop and improve in her artistic endeavors. Her own experiences translate beautifully into a world of fantasy and her imagination does not often seem hyperbolic. Until you meet the talking horses, that is. Compared to other young writers her age, she is a hard worker and understands the challenges of her professional field. Despite her incredibly busy schedule, Tanya continues to remember her life goals. She deserves success more than anyone I’ve ever met.
Her writing has always been entertaining and witty, as she is in life. She is caring and does not easily judge. She helps others make improvements in their own lives and her work ethic is undeniably strong. I could go on and on about her qualifications for this position, but I would then have to write a novel myself. I have no doubts that her abilities and determination will continue to grow. I am happy to advocate for Ms. R and I hope that this letter helped you to make an informed decision to accept her for this position.
If you have any further questions, feel free to contact me.
Crystal P
You guys - I suck. I know that. I've been all over the place lately and way too busy to write. Actually, the only thing I have writen lately is a recommendation letter for myself on behalf of an old prof... I'm waiting for her to proofread it, guys, I'm not just going to put words into someones mouth. How dare you and your implications! Anyways... I got Tanya to read over my letter about how great I was so that I didn't sound way too over the top and then she said: "Uhh that letter is fricken amazing... I want you to write me daily letters so I feel competant." And it made me sad because she is MORE than competant, am I right, folks? So that's how this happened. And it's just a first draft! Too many commas and not enough good stuff. Needs to be more flow. I don't know.
And so to finish this off: things are happening and there's lots of ... stuff and things. My life is busy and I might be doing more stuff and things soon so I can't promise that I'm going to be on here regularly. It's totally fine because Tanya's the better one anyways. That's all I really want to say. BUT I WILL DO THE BEST FRIEND GAME SHOW CHALLENGE TONIGHT. Capslock makes it real.
<3 xx
DFTBA
Crystal
Showing posts with label Story. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Story. Show all posts
Tuesday, September 24, 2013
Monday, September 9, 2013
“I have spilt my latte on my cardigan”
Notes for Tanya: This is a thing I wrote last week at work. Sorry it's so long. I will do my superhero boyfriends and gameshow challenge when I can, but I work tonight too. I feel terrible because I can't keep up to your schedule. I've only got like 20 hours at Retailland this week so it should lend more time to posting. One or the other will be posted tonight. If you want two challenges this week to make up for your lack of challenge last week, let me know. Anyways... here's the post.
The title above is an actual text that I sent to Tanya last Monday afternoon.
Context: I was extremely excited to get a Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Latte (The first of the year! Yum!), and was on my way back to the office when I decided to hold onto to the top of my coffee cup with my teeth as I opened the door. The rest is pretty self explanatory. Don’t ask why I did this. I completely disregarded all safety precautions that are bolded on the bottom of each Starbucks take-away coffee cup. I feel dumb even talking about it. My cardigan will never be the same.
[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="400"]
NB: It is not advised to pumpkin spice cardigans.[/caption]
Resolution: I will never try to hold a coffee cup with my teeth ever again… or at least until next time I have to go through a door.
The title above is an actual text that I sent to Tanya last Monday afternoon.
Context: I was extremely excited to get a Starbucks Pumpkin Spice Latte (The first of the year! Yum!), and was on my way back to the office when I decided to hold onto to the top of my coffee cup with my teeth as I opened the door. The rest is pretty self explanatory. Don’t ask why I did this. I completely disregarded all safety precautions that are bolded on the bottom of each Starbucks take-away coffee cup. I feel dumb even talking about it. My cardigan will never be the same.
[caption id="" align="aligncenter" width="400"]
NB: It is not advised to pumpkin spice cardigans.[/caption]Resolution: I will never try to hold a coffee cup with my teeth ever again… or at least until next time I have to go through a door.
Monday, August 12, 2013
Challenge #3 - The Lying Game
Once again I get to write this post from the hallowed halls of my federal government office. In order to not confuse anyone, the ‘hallowed halls’ I’m speaking of are more or less teeny tiny cubicles in a weirdly temperate, stale-aired office building that was probably built in the late ‘70s. It couldn’t be less hallowed if it tried. I guarantee that any departmental federal government building in this town will be amongst the least venerated structures ever. This of course excludes parliament because it’s a kick ass place with unicorns on the walls.
Challenge #3 recap: "You tell me THREE stories about your life. Three things that happened to you. except one will be not true. THEN when you post that I have to guess which one I think the lie is. If I get it right, all is well. If I get it wrong, you can punish me with a punishment."
The impossible thing about Tanya’s challenge is that she knows pretty much everything about me. Any lie that I would write about myself – Doritos are my favourite snack food – would automatically be picked out of the lineup. This is because Tanya and I are besties. If you’ve ever seen Grey’s Anatomy, she is my person. She is totally who I would call if I needed to drag a body across my living room floor and into my backyard for a clandestine midnight burial. She knows mostly all of my stories, most of my insecurities and my dumb habits that I don’t even think about on a daily basis. That’s not to say all Sneetches are the same, readers. Tanya is a pretty introspective person, and I tend to like a soundboard for all of my problems. That is to say, I complain a lot about everything and Tanya is polite and helps me with problems. I feel like a jerk because she rarely complains about anything except maybe ice cream related things and the lack of food in her house. I don’t count those. Sometimes when we hang out, I learn all kinds of crazy new things about her life, even if she thinks she’s boring. She couldn’t be more awesome and interesting and fun. She’s the best, if you don’t already know. Anyways, we hang out a lot and she knows a lot about me and if we were to go on the Pyramid or the Newlywed Game (best friend edition), I think we’d have a large chance of winning. Don’t bet your mortgage against us, is all I’m saying. I don’t know, maybe Tanya thinks differently.
Back to the challenge: I am going to answer this challenge with three basic sentences; two of which are truths, and the other is a lie. I’m going to make them as difficult as possible so that this will actually present a challenge. Tomorrow, Tanya will guess which one is the lie (and feel free to do the same, guys) and I’ll let her know if she’s right on Wednesday’s post. For the benefit of all blog readers, this will be put under a 'Read More'. So just click the button below and here we go:
Friday, August 9, 2013
Friday: Short Story Day!
I don’ t know when I started saying ‘ya’ll’.
As in ‘ya’ll come back now, ya here?’
It kind of makes me feel more country than I actually am. For I, like many faux country girls, grew up in a very nice house that was more ‘suburban’ than ‘farmer’s field’. Despite living across from some very nice people with a petting zoo and a small herd of cattle, I never had to wake up at 5 am for chores, never got stepped on by a cow, never fell in poop. Well, I mean I probably did fall in poop in some point in my life, but I most likely blocked it out of my memory. And it was probably only dog poop. Not ACTUAL farm poop, guys. There’s a difference. Trust me.
Now I’m getting very specific about poop I may or may not have fallen in.
Back to the point, ya’ll. (If you don’t remember, this post was supposed to be about ‘ya’ll’ and not poop at all. God, keep up. I’m concerned for your mental well being, I set the stage like a paragraph ago.)
Anyways, I get all nostalgic for driving past corn fields daily, having more than a quarter acre yard and actually seeing stars when I look up at night, but I really don’t think I was ever country enough for the country. Knowing all the words to most Shania Twain songs does not a country girl make. Jokingly, my friends and I started saying ‘ya’ll’ because we were too ‘valley’ (read: Ottawa valley is a very large and sometimes vague area of country side where trashy girls come from. Like my best friend Kristen. Trashy as they come. Just kidding, Kristen). None of us are real country girls at all, but when we compared ourselves to the city girls we worked with, we didn’t fit into their lives either. It’s how I like to think we became friends. None of us saw the need to wear makeup daily, we didn’t own every Apple product ever made and we found brunch to be an extremely novel and compelling concept. Not to pigeon hole city girls- or country girls for that matter – but at that time we just didn’t feel as fashionable or in the know as these 16 year old girls. We bonded that way; we talked about our field parties, seeing lawn tractors being driven to work, and being stuck at the school for lunch until you were old enough to drive a car. Our memories kind of all meshed together – we shopped at Giant Tiger and getting a Tim Hortons that was a walk-able distance from high school was a big deal. We spoke like country girls and pronounced words wrong. We were hicks who weren’t even farmers. That’s when we started saying ‘ya’ll.’
They stopped when it got old and I just didn’t. I like how it sounded and I liked how much people were taken aback by a simple conjunction.
“Did you just say ya’ll?”
“Yep. You all – ya’ll”
“You know that just shortening it to ‘you’ works just as well? And is less of a grammatical shitfest?”
“Mmmhmm.”
(And that’s when they would turn skeptically away and retrospectively regret becoming friends with me.)
Also I think it’s hard for me to change sometimes. My friends are now the penultimate city girls: one is a hairstylist, who rocks everything she wears and has tried every health and nature related product on the market. She's like my inspiration to keep going on. The other is super fashionable, outgoing and a total closet nerd. Sometimes when I look at her, I realize what an introvert I really am. I guess I’ve changed too. I’m not the same girl who went to a country high school and played the flute in band. I’m definitely not the depressed girl who started at her first retail job and barely left her house. I’m like some kind of weird monster. I like keeping inside jokes and I like being country. I also like pretending that I can dress myself well and speak with profound intelligence. It is not a regular occurrence, but it happens sometimes, ok? Country and city combined was my point. I’m 23 years old and still trying to find myself, but at least I know that I never want to let go of some parts of the girl who lived across from the petting zoo. The good parts. The parts that say ‘ya’ll’ and get excited about Tim Hortons.
As in ‘ya’ll come back now, ya here?’
It kind of makes me feel more country than I actually am. For I, like many faux country girls, grew up in a very nice house that was more ‘suburban’ than ‘farmer’s field’. Despite living across from some very nice people with a petting zoo and a small herd of cattle, I never had to wake up at 5 am for chores, never got stepped on by a cow, never fell in poop. Well, I mean I probably did fall in poop in some point in my life, but I most likely blocked it out of my memory. And it was probably only dog poop. Not ACTUAL farm poop, guys. There’s a difference. Trust me.
Now I’m getting very specific about poop I may or may not have fallen in.
Back to the point, ya’ll. (If you don’t remember, this post was supposed to be about ‘ya’ll’ and not poop at all. God, keep up. I’m concerned for your mental well being, I set the stage like a paragraph ago.)
Anyways, I get all nostalgic for driving past corn fields daily, having more than a quarter acre yard and actually seeing stars when I look up at night, but I really don’t think I was ever country enough for the country. Knowing all the words to most Shania Twain songs does not a country girl make. Jokingly, my friends and I started saying ‘ya’ll’ because we were too ‘valley’ (read: Ottawa valley is a very large and sometimes vague area of country side where trashy girls come from. Like my best friend Kristen. Trashy as they come. Just kidding, Kristen). None of us are real country girls at all, but when we compared ourselves to the city girls we worked with, we didn’t fit into their lives either. It’s how I like to think we became friends. None of us saw the need to wear makeup daily, we didn’t own every Apple product ever made and we found brunch to be an extremely novel and compelling concept. Not to pigeon hole city girls- or country girls for that matter – but at that time we just didn’t feel as fashionable or in the know as these 16 year old girls. We bonded that way; we talked about our field parties, seeing lawn tractors being driven to work, and being stuck at the school for lunch until you were old enough to drive a car. Our memories kind of all meshed together – we shopped at Giant Tiger and getting a Tim Hortons that was a walk-able distance from high school was a big deal. We spoke like country girls and pronounced words wrong. We were hicks who weren’t even farmers. That’s when we started saying ‘ya’ll.’
They stopped when it got old and I just didn’t. I like how it sounded and I liked how much people were taken aback by a simple conjunction.
“Did you just say ya’ll?”
“Yep. You all – ya’ll”
“You know that just shortening it to ‘you’ works just as well? And is less of a grammatical shitfest?”
“Mmmhmm.”
(And that’s when they would turn skeptically away and retrospectively regret becoming friends with me.)
Also I think it’s hard for me to change sometimes. My friends are now the penultimate city girls: one is a hairstylist, who rocks everything she wears and has tried every health and nature related product on the market. She's like my inspiration to keep going on. The other is super fashionable, outgoing and a total closet nerd. Sometimes when I look at her, I realize what an introvert I really am. I guess I’ve changed too. I’m not the same girl who went to a country high school and played the flute in band. I’m definitely not the depressed girl who started at her first retail job and barely left her house. I’m like some kind of weird monster. I like keeping inside jokes and I like being country. I also like pretending that I can dress myself well and speak with profound intelligence. It is not a regular occurrence, but it happens sometimes, ok? Country and city combined was my point. I’m 23 years old and still trying to find myself, but at least I know that I never want to let go of some parts of the girl who lived across from the petting zoo. The good parts. The parts that say ‘ya’ll’ and get excited about Tim Hortons.
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