25 December 2007

Merry Christmas, Barney!

Holy crap, my first Christmas in London, and hopefully it won't be the last because it's beautiful here. Absolutely stunning.

Your letter came in through the door last night on Christmas Eve, but unfortunately I was too drunk to take care of things. I was positive it came through the door last night though; I mean I just have a hunch on these things.

Before you ask – No, I have not been sleeping with anyone. Do I really seem like that kind of person? I just got drunk with a bunch of female friends I made from work, and I know you are going to be wondering about how it went and my sexual orientation, but that's okay, because I am here to update and reassure you of my workplace, my new friends and my current sexual preference.

Am I a lesbian now? No.

Are my new friends hot? Yes, they are. Do come over sometime. They will love an American blond guy in a suit, I swear.

And as for my work experience – I've started work three days ago but have only actually 'been' to work for one day, since yesterday was a holiday and so is today, so I am off. I've met a bunch of really nice people though! I didn't expect it at first, as in: I didn't expect people to be this nice to me, but they were. So here we go. Not so hard now, is it?

It turns out I am still the anchor I used to be. Like, my new job position is an anchor, which I'm grateful for, because aside from an anchor, I hardly know how to do anything else. I suppose I can deal with the newsroom paper work and stuff, but you know, it gets really boring. And I hate being bored. Being an anchor has also made me feel like home, which ended up having me crying on the bathroom floor because I felt so homesick.

…Just kidding.

Gah! It's Christmas morning, and I'm sat here like an idiot writing you a letter instead of going Christmas shopping with these new friends I've made. Like, right!? How did that happen? I could be at TopShop right now (that's some English Forever 21, if you're wondering) marvelling at some amazing clothes, but no, I'm sat at home writing to you…

Oh, come on! Don't you give me that look you're making as you're reading this. Give me credit where it's due, because I think we can all agree that this is a pretty big sacrifice, nudge nudge. I mean if it were you, would you ditch the opportunity of banging some 10/10 chicks in exchange for some quiet time at home, alone, by the way, to write a letter to some old hag? Nope. Exactly. (Lets out exaggerated gasp.)I am such a good friend.

Anyway, I hope you're doing well. I know I like to say this a lot, but I really do hope so. This is not just some cliché thing I'm saying to fill the spaces on this giant sheet of letter paper, I swear. But I figured you would be great, wouldn't you? I mean, you've got the gang and everything, so that's awesome.

Tell them Merry Christmas from me!

Love love love,

Robin

P.s. Did I really just do that? Sign off with the word 'love' repeated three times? I feel like a love struck schoolgirl. And what's up with that? Please send help quickly because this is an emergency; London is changing me, and it's changing me fast.


31 December 2007

Happy last day of 2007, Robin!

Good, good. I'm glad you've not been sleeping with anyone… Yet, because you know you just like it dirty and you soon will be sleeping with the entire male population. So props to you for still keeping that purity ring on up 'till now. Well, sort of.

And shut up, you old hag (if that were what you would like me to call you from now on). You know I would do that in a heartbeat. Anything for you, you know I would. Even if it means giving up the opportunity to bang some 10/10 chicks, you know I would, because you are this important to me. And I need you to remember that. So, be it! Be the stupid idiot, because I'll have you know that right now I'm the fool spending my New Years' Eve evening writing back. We're even.

Anyway, I did tell the gang Merry Christmas from you, and they all said it back. Even though by the time this letter arrived, it would be, like, what? 2008? Yeah. It would be 2008. Holy cow, it would be 2008. That means I can finally start making jokes about not having seen you since 2008. Amazing, mind-blowing and you just know it's going to be legendary.

So… If you don't mind me asking, what's the plan for New Years' Eve? And whom are you going to kiss when the clock strikes twelve? I hope I don't sound possessive (ugh, I hate that word), but it'd better not be someone hotter than me, because I would be very cross with that… But then again, who would be hotter than me? Ryan Gosling, maybe, but why the hell would he be in London on New Years' Eve and kissing you, of all people? Exactly. Crossing that point out in my list of concerns now.

…So good to hear you're settling in your new job, and it sucks we don't get English TV here because it would be quite the laugh seeing your face on my telly every night telling me about the crappy weather and everything else worth laughing at. But that aside… Seriously! I want you to know that I'm so proud of you. Pick yourself off of that bathroom floor (yes, yes) and wipe away the faded eyeliner because I'm so proud of you, and most importantly, I love you. In the friend way, obviously. But yeah, super cheesy, again. Okay, okay. I need to stop myself before I continue or fall into that bottomless hole of sounding like my great aunt.

Anyway! What do I do now? Right. Seal the letter and send it, I suppose. And then go out for New Years' Eve dinner with the gang – yes, with the gang; be very jealous – and maybe pick up a few chicks or something on the way home…

And I'm not going to be like you and try to fill in the letter sheet by writing the same thing over and over again, am I?

Hasta la vista, you cheater.

Lots of love

Barney

P.s. You may sound like a love struck schoolgirl with that sign off, but I sound like my mum, so you still win.

P.p.s. Can we please use email or something? Pretty please?