Dear Mrs. Gold,
It’s 11:52PM and the metaphorical overhead with tonight’s writing doesn’t seem to be working. Everything has remained dark for the past 20 minutes and I’m not sure what the next step is. Let me know if you’ve got any suggestions for turning the light bulb on.
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Dear Mr. Ferguson,
I’ve tried to duplicate the feeling from first period senior year that we had and, while some days are better than others, I haven’t found a go-to song that consistently gets me ready to conquer the day. “Rock With You” and “Three Little Birds” set a very high bar. My alarm clock is still “Good Morning” by Kanye West and I still play my "Mana" Pandora station. Maybe I’m not looking in the right places?
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Dear Mrs. Sjong,
Math has been really tough lately. Your purple room right after lunch made for a good work environment, but no other place in the city has been able to duplicate the omnipresence of peeps, chocolate, or refrigerated leftover spaghetti. Plus, the proof I’ve been sludging through the past 12 months or so is proving to be quite difficult. I have my list of equations and formulas, but it looks like gibberish to me. SOS!
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Dear Mr. Fontaine,
Érase una vez yo hablaba el español como un niño, libre de preocupaciones, lleno de emoción, y tenía el hambre de alguien que siempre quería mas. Ahora estoy lleno de miedo. Siento como Flick en la película “A Bug’s Life.” ¿Que será mi desenlace? ¿Tienes la respuesta?
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Dear Mrs. Johnson,
I don’t know why I don’t like certain people very much, but I really didn’t like you for several reasons. Since that time I have learned that my natural tendency is to find certain people disagreeable way before I have a chance to get to know them. I was hoping you could help me with this issue?
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Dear Mrs. Thompson,
Despite having many years of schooling after you, I can say without question that you were the best teacher I ever had… and I had you for 2nd and 3rd grade. Do you teach any classes for hopeful adults?
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Dear Mr. Davis,
I’ve been practicing a lot lately and after turning 25 years old I can confidently say that I’m ready to try out for Hamilton’s basketball team.
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Dear Ms. Leonas,
I have a topic for you today…Manhattan is neither a man, nor a hat, nor is it tan…can we discuss?
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Dear Coach Elvig,
I have to admit that a recurring memory of mine is walking in the parking lot during junior year of high school and seeing the baseball team practicing on the field. The thought kind of makes me nauseous.
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Dear Mr. Jenkins,
I’m not sure what you may or may not have seen in me, but I’d like to know why certain people aren’t seeing the same thing.
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Dear Mr. Devised Piece,
I’m not sure why you didn’t see anything in me, but I’d like to know why certain people still don’t see anything in me.
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Dear Mr. Bury,
If you have the recipe and the formula and by way of your teaching I understand the recipe and the formula then why do I still cook so much bad shit?