Lifestyle

Dear Teachers, Welcome back to another school year, or maybe your first year. We, as parents, are glad you are here. We appreciate the time you spend decorating your classroom, putting my child’s name on their desk, organizing the markers, books and setting your desk just right. You are as excited to meet the students, as the kids are to meet you. On the night of meet the teacher, I can see the look on your eyes, you don’t have to say it, your eyes shout it “holy cow these parents are insane.” I would like to provide you with the point of view of the helicopter, over the top, intense, anxiety ridden parent. My reality is rushing around in the morning to get hair fixed, teeth brushed, library books packed and breakfast eaten, all in a hurry to beat the first bell at school. Whew...
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Dear teachers, There are many people who think you have a cushy job, with seven-hour workdays and two months off every summer. They say that you are overpaid, underworked, lazy and uncaring. Any time there is a labour dispute in the Ontario education system, like there is now, you are accused of trying to suck the taxpayer dry in order to line your own pockets. Let me tell you what I think, teachers. I think you guys totally ROCK. Since my firstborn son started school in 2007, I have gained an appreciation for just how hard you work. I have come to understand that your workdays extend far beyond classroom hours, that report cards and IEP’s involve a lot more than simply punching data into a computer, and that a great deal of thought and time goes into the lessons you teach and the...
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Dear Hollywood, I woke up at four o’clock in the morning today with a rant about you that I wanted to share. I share it because I don’t wish to hold the resentment inside and grow bitter because bitter doesn’t age well and it tastes icky. Now, I know that you know that I love you. You, being my place of birth and all. I also know that you know that you go hand-in-hand with showbiz and that has been a huge part of my life since the get go. With that said…. I just booked a headshot session (probably my 234th in my lifetime as an actress and a brief stint as a model) and it got me thinking about my lifetime of headshots. I keep one copy of all of them, somewhere, in various boxes, probably at my mom and dad’s house. One of these shots that popped into my mind was one of...
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Dear Mr. Fillion, I have a proposal that you may like. But first, some flattery: Whether it's Firefly, Dr. Horrible's Sing-Along Blog, or your newest show, Castle, I find you consistently one of the most magnetic presences on screen. Frankly, it's gotten to the point that I will watch something specifically and only because you are in it. Castle is one of the few shows that my girlfriend and I watch on TV, rather than downloading, partly because we can't wait to watch it, and partly because we know that downloads aren't counted as viewership. I get the sense through your characters, your Twitter feed and your Wikipedia page that you're the type of fellow who appreciates both good deeds and senses of humour. My proposal combines both of these: Please buy my office a coffee maker. Yes...
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Dear People who write open letters, Hope you’re well and happily working on your next personal-yet-public response to something you think will give you a slice of the spotlight currently shining on whatever it is you’ve decided is worth writing about, in such a particular manner. (Take a breath) Being a two-year-old, I’m usually inclined to make it pretty clear what I think about things - and require absolutely no prompting to do so. Let’s take morning time as an example. Within two minutes of my arrival downstairs, no-one at Telfer Towers II is under any illusion about how I want breakfast to play out. My food, entertainment and table companion preferences are all laid out before anyone else has time to stretch. It’s the same in the car. Whether we’re talking playlist, snack...
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Dear Mr. Cumberbatch, I think you’re great. No, that’s wrong. Too safe, too mundane. You never hold back in your roles, and I shouldn’t hold back when writing to you. I love you. I love your style. I love your name, of course. I love that you’re not above expressing an undiluted opinion about certain pieces of dreck like, say, Downton Abbey. I love that beneath the calm British exterior, you’ve got some crazy energy happening. How many actors have that wild, manic undercurrent anymore? Jack Nicholson’s not in his 30s anymore, so maybe none? And look, I know you can play interesting “normal” characters. You were fantastic as the plantation owner Tom Ford in 12 Years a Slave, and you nailed your supporting role as Peter in Tinker Tailor Soldier Spy. August: Osage County was...
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Dear Salman Khan, Let’s straightaway get to the point. You are a criminal; a bloody criminal. Aren’t you? I could see this coming a long time back. In fact a very long time. If you ask me, this was bound to happen. Bound to happen because, the chap up there isn’t a fan of yours and as such he doesn’t like third grade movies that you have mastered in producing, one after another. When innocent blood spills on the road, it rarely goes unnoticed. It may get noticed after a prolonged inaction but when it finally does, destiny comes calling very quickly. You may have thought yourself above the law but the poor law was not aware of your self-ascertained vilification. Finally, the vice of justice fell on you and quite rightly, pulled the ground beneath your feet. But bhai, you know it...
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Dear Sigourney: Please don’t feel sorry for me and the other millions of childfree women across the globe. I’m responding to your recent remarks (link is external) of pity for Katherine Hepburn. I find it sad that you feel the need to express your pity for Ms. Hepburn, a long-deceased actress who can’t even speak out in protest of your rude comments that she missed out on the joy of motherhood. You went further to proclaim that your role as a mom was so much more fulfilling than that of actress, and that your life would not have been as wonderful had you not had a child. But wait, Sigourney, have you considered the possibility that a childfree woman might just view it differently? When I see what so many women go through as mothers, I often feel great relief that I by chance did not...
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Dear Ms. Thompson, The Jan. 27 passing of Pete Seeger got me thinking about you. That may seem a little surprising; there’s no obvious connection between a banjo-strumming American folk singer and a British Oscar-winning actress. So let me explain. The obituaries for Mr. Seeger noted that in the 1930s and 1940s, he had been a supporter of Soviet dictator Josef Stalin. But in 1993, Seeger publicly apologized for, as he put it, “following the party line so slavishly, for not seeing that Stalin was a supremely cruel misleader.” It’s a shame that it wasn’t until 40 years after Stalin’s death that Seeger finally acknowledged the truth about his former idol. I am hoping it won’t take you 40 years to acknowledge the terrible mistake you have made in publicly urging a boycott of Israelis...
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Dear Fellow Actors, Please know that I am deeply moved by your recent nomination for SAG's "Outstanding Performance by a Male Actor in a Television Movie," and I want to express my sincere gratitude for that honor. Since then, you may have heard that the SAG board has excluded me from the awards ceremony on February 5, 2005. The published explanation given for my exclusion is not accurate, and I feel I owe a truthful explanation so that what happened to me, should never happen to another actor. The truth is that during the Summer of 2003, I was approached by a dear friend who had a lifetime vision of directing a piece he had written. He explained to me he had very little money and he would need to feel complete freedom, if there was any possibility to bring his vision to fruition...
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