I've written to magazines twice in my life. The first time I got published -- I wrote to Mademoiselle back in the Clinton days to protest the liberal slant of their publication. Tell me that's not funny. The second was to Yoga Journal when they wrote a review of 40 Days asserting that BB didn't know spirituality. I was pissed. They didn't publish me. It wasn't until a year later I recalled that letter and realized the irony of me writing an angry letter to defend spirituality. Classic.
Now I'm considering dusting off the pen once again. Do I care enough to email? I could just cut and paste but I'm not the industrious sort. Anyway, my next letter could look something like this:
Dear Christopher Hitchen, Author of the January 2007 Vanity Fair article Why Women Aren't Funny:
Three words: Mariah Carey, bitch.
Okay a few more, because the woman in me cannot help but drone on (I'm sure Stanford could explain why).
1. Women (under 60) do not refer to the man they're interested in as a "squeeze." It's retarded. For that matter I wonder if the writers of Grey's Anatomy are closet AARP-ers. Mc Dreamy? Mc Steamy? Mc 1958.
2. Dorothy Parker *was* funny, but she was a man.
3. We can have babies?
4. Is there anything less funny than hearing a woman relate a dream she's just had? No.