Dear NYC,

I love the sound of teeth crashing into a potato chip.

I miss you,
The Woobs

Dear NYC,

We don't see eye to eye on many things. But, I'm sure we can agree that of all the newfound Patriotism and inspiration captured in many Inaugural photos, this one is the most enfranchising.

With eight years of service in the history books, it's time you get along now Cowboy.

The Woobs

Dear NYC,

Thanks for your note. I tried that body scrub you suggested and it's aces.

I want to talk to you about an introspective moment I had recently. Lately, I have been feeling suffocated by my perceived lack of options. Don't roll your eyes! I know this sounds dramatic and I know things could be worse, and that somewhere puppies are fighting and STARVING! I know this, just bear with me, NYC.
Anyway, for one to feel like he has no options means that he has a general idea of the options he seeks. And this is why I'm an idiot. I can't complain because I have no fucking idea what I seek. On a daily basis, I feel like anything would be better than this. But then, if I'm given an option I think 'Do you I really want that?' 'Certainly, I can endure the misery longer-it's not that bad', 'Maybe I should wait it out'. What is the deal with me, NYC? Is this a case of me not seeing the good in something until I am given an out or have I fallen prey to Stockholm Syndrome? Please figure this out and get back to me. I need you.

Forever love,
The Woobs

Dear NYC,

"go well and go peacefully. we can't keep your majesty, be on your way"-Natalie Merchant

Today, I was inspired to look my neighbors in the face.

Loftily yours,
The Woobs

Dear NYC,

I'm walking through a crowded area and two men pass me. Both of their faces are substantially different and don't remind me of anyone I know. For some reason, I combine their features and melt their faces into one and realize that together, they look like my dad.

It's nice because I haven't seen him awhile.

xo
The Woobs

Dear NYC,

Sometimes, I can think of nothing better than the smell of spearmint gum and blow-dried hair. It reminds me of when my aunt and I would take trips to feed the ducks at a nearby pond. On the car ride she would roll the windows down and turn The Pointer Sisters up. Still today, this inverse relationship impacts my senses and my inability to hide my excitement.

I hope this letter finds you well, NYC.

The Woobs

Dear NYC,

Oh..my dear friend, I'm sorry so much time has passed since I last wrote. Since then, I have chased balls around a tennis court and celebrated the beginning of my 29th year on this planet. I got your e-card..it was cute, thanks!

Anyway, I have a few ideas for the next MTA campaign promotion and I want to run them by you. They're in the same school of thought as 'if you see something, say something'. Here they are:

'If you see someone standing up and reading a newspaper or a book on a uncomfortably crowded train (one so crowded that you(I) cannot even lift your(my) hand to scratch your(my) nose), biff him/her'

OR, for the audience of people lucky enough to be a seated on such a train, this:

'Get your butt off my shoulder'

Abrazos fuerte,
The Woobs