Dear DIY Ancestors,

Doing it yourself is not always the correct choice. You may realize that now, as you're sitting up in Heaven in that pink hotel room that you allegedly described to Aunt Martyr that one time on the Ouija board. If, however, you are above all that nonsense, I would like to draw your attention to one tiny little detail down here that you've likely forgotten.

Remember in the 80's when my great-grandmother's allergies were killing her, and you nailed all the windows in the house shut? And when having closed windows didn't help, you then caulked all the seams and painted over everything? And how when it still didn't work you moved to Arizona?

Well, I happen to be living here now, due to unforeseen circumstances, and the window a/c which was bought secondhand 28 years ago has now officially died, and I would like to open a window.

Perhaps I shouldn't address this to my ancestor at all (and, by the way, I know exactly which one of you did this. I think we knew each other well enough for me to be honest). Perhaps I should address this to people who are still among the living, who jury-rig things because it's easier than doing it right.

Now, I'm not criticizing those who read up or take someone's advice on home repair. I'm certainly not criticizing those who simply can't afford a big fix and need something to last them until a better fix is available. We're all in that spot from time to time.

I also realize that twenty-some years ago, people didn't understand things like fire safety, and the need to be able to escape through a window that doesn't open up over the hole that goes to the basement. That was sarcasm, sorry. But I've been told you're the one who made these odd renovations, and not for lack of money. Of course, that money is gone now, but that's another story entirely.

I suppose the point of this letter is to say that it's about 90 degrees Fahrenheit in here, with 70% humidity, and I've considered just breaking the window to get some air. I will get through these windows. Even if it takes a good, hefty rock.

Sincerely,
The Quiet One

Dear 2011,

This is a direct plea to seek help. Your older brother, 2010, wreaked havoc on many lives besides my own, and from the look of things, you're a little off-kilter yourself. I suggest you check yourself into some kind of psychiatric facility ASAP. I'm sure I speak for the others when I say that we'd rather you were mentally sound and able to function as a good year, and that we'd be willing to have time stop for a few days, or even a week, while you got yourself together.

In my own little corner of the world, there was a loss in the family, and I nearly lost my father as well. Could you give us a break? And I don't mean that literally. The broken leg, ribs, and arm were more than enough of that. I just mean take it easy on us. I'll even go with you to your therapy sessions if you like, and hold your hand. Just please don't do anything rash like age me double-time. If I have any grey hairs, I'd rather not be able to see them just yet.

If you could, would you give Father Time a bit of a vacation? He got his paycheck rather recently, and could use a trip somewhere nice to relax. Maybe he can take baby New Year with him and they can have some good bonding time, work things out so that 2012 surprises everyone by being awesome instead of the end of the world.

Don't get me wrong, 2011, I appreciate you. I survived 2010 and what doesn't kill us makes us stronger, right? Ha ha ha. No. Forgive me if I'm being picky, but I think it would be quite a treat to have something to look forward to besides making it through another year. A career, perhaps? A move to a more moderate climate? Well, I'd hate to put any pressure on you.

GET THEE TO REHAB, 2011. Get the help you need before you become another drop in the bucket. How do you want to be remembered, really? As yet another sucky year in a string of other sucky years? Or the one that stood out and shone brighter than the others, the leader into something people like and actually want to remember? Think about it.

In closing, thank you for taking the time to read this. Tell baby New Year that if he doesn't shape up, I'm feeding him to the badgers. Don't ask me if I'm serious unless you really want to find out.

Yours disgruntledly,

An Unsatisfied Customer.

Dear Downstairs Neighbors,

When someone leaves your apartment, intending to be back soon, please anticipate the fact that they will indeed be back soon. Do not go take a massive dump or whatever it is that makes it impossible for you to answer their summons. Do not ignore them or sit on the couch debating whether they'll give up and wander off or flatten themselves and slip under the door, thereby saving you the effort of motion. I never hear you yelling, Just a minute! I'm coming! or Go away! I'm taking a massive dump! though I can certainly hear you say hello when the door eventually does open, which seems to imply that you just aren't coming.

This happens several times per day, and sometimes at night. It is disturbing, and though I will admit that my stress level is already at an unhealthy high, I anticipate that most people would find the sudden pounding and yelling to be let in at least marginally unpleasant. If you have hearing problems, please locate a hearing aid or provide your house-mates (and perhaps your child) with a key. You may check out additional keys for the semester at the Student Housing Office.

Thank you for your consideration. God Bless,

Your Quiet Upstairs Neighbor.

Dear Guests/House-Mates of Downstairs Neighbors,

You have an impressive sense of rhythm. The funky beat of palm (or fist) against door has been enough to make me dance in my seat a couple times. In fact, now and then I think about trying to learn it so I can duplicate it. However, I would like to make one small request. Please hear me out, and know that I respect you as an amateur musician.

Although the beat is, as previously stated, funky and impressive, it loses its impact after five straight minutes, and with the knowledge that you are not practicing for anything. I have discovered this is simply your way of knocking on the door loudly and for an annoying amount of time to alert whoever is inside to your presence, and to the fact that you would also like to be inside.

If it isn't too much trouble, would you pass this information on to your friend who yells instead of knocking? That would be greatly appreciated.

With much hope for an easier entry,

Someone who never forgets a key when someone's actually inside.