Dear Fallen Friend,

Where did you go? Have I done something to offend you, perhaps a grievous offense I am not even aware of? Whatever the case, please come back...

The day started like any other, and I whistled contentedly as I hunkered down at my computer and signed into Facebook. The plan: check notifications, respond to some fan mail, catch up on my Words with Friends games (I will beat you if it is the last thing I do Mark Hendricks--you know who you are.) Not part of the plan: noticing with horror and dismay that my number of Facebook friends had dwindled from 547 to a paltry 546.

I just want to know why. But, as Mark Zuckerberg has not created a "Delete Friend--Provide Reason--Final Goodbyes" type application, I suppose I am left to ponder the reasons in solitude.

Was it my excessive status updates relating to frozen waffles? I've been meaning to cut back on those (the updates, not the waffles), but they are so delicious that I sometimes feel the need to share my enthusiasm with the world. Is that a crime? If so, lock me up, and throw me some wet naps, because my fingers are still a little sticky from the maple syrup.

No, I'm sure it wasn't the waffles. Perhaps then, my listening preferences on Spotify have irritated you. I realize listening to "Ms. New Booty" 15 times in a row is a bit much, and that it could be construed as a somewhat offensive song, but I swear, it's just the beat of the song that I like, and I in no way endorse the misogynistic undertones of the lyrics, on that you have my word.

Or maybe it was the poking. It is so hard to convey tone on the internet, but I assure you, the pokes were intended to be playful, not agressive--I'm not a monster!



Whatever the reason, I just hope that we can work things out soon, and become "Facebook friends" once again. I know we only met a few times in highschool, and I haven't seen you since, but does that mean I should no longer be allowed to wish you a "happy birthday xo", or peruse your "Bahamas 2012-WooHoo" album for a few hours? What kind of friend are you anyway?

Sincerely,
Joge

Dear Hogwarts,

I am rather disgruntled to inform you that I have not yet received my letter of acceptance to Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardy, and as it is well beyond my 11th birthday (I am now 21 years old) I have grown a bit concerned.

Despite repeated attempts to contact you over the last 10 years, I have heard nothing, and to be frank, I am so angry I could spit hinkypunks! Friends try to abate my anger and frustration. "No fears Joge, your letter is coming", they reassure me. "Perhaps Hogwarts can't find your address?" To those friends, I say: doubtful. If you people can remember something as specific as "cupboard under the stairs", then surely "just around the corner from the Burger King" shouldn't be too difficult.

What is it then? Was my video application too over-the-top for you guys? I know the smoke machines were probably a bit much, but you have to admit, my a capella rendition of "Double, Double, Toil and Trouble" was nothing short of spectacular. And as you can see from my costume selection, I look darling in scarlet and gold, though I would settle for green and silver if necessary. I draw the line at black and yellow though--I'm all for school spirit, but I would honestly rather snog a dementor than write my friends back home that I'm a Hufflepuff. Seriously.

As Albus Dumbledore once said, "Don't count your owls before they are delivered." I suppose I am guilty of just that, and yet, I cannot bring myself to keep from trying one last time. I realize that starting classes now would mean I would be double the age of the other witches and wizards in my year, but I promise, it won't be that weird. I'll be like that cool older student that everyone looks up to and wants to get a butterbeer with...like Hogwarts' very own Van Wilder! (I know, I know, crap movie, but Ryan Reynolds was undeniably lovable in it!)

Well, I suppose I've done all I can for now. If you still refuse to acknowledge my inquiry, I will be forced to resort to wand-induced violence. So please, I implore you, just send me my acceptance letter already. I really don't want to go all "sectum sempra" on your magical derrieres, but I will do what I must to enjoy the magic that I so desperately seek.

Sincerely,
Joge
(Just Around the Corner from the Burger King)