Dear Powers That Be:

1. Pray tell. Is there any possibility that the world's worst tasting substance (cough syrup) could be made more pallatable? I know I'm stuffed up as I swallow such wretchedness. I know this is supposed to soften the blow. But, you see, nothing gives me the dry heaves and the shivers quite like the stuff. And, for the record, the dry heaves in combination with a cough happens to be an ugly, ugly situation.

2. "Guy timing." Really? Can't we just call it what it is? (That being cowardice and distraction via electronics, naturally.)

3. Tagging. Graffiti. Label it as you choose (no pun intended). Let's discuss this little phenomenon. As an educator I really, really, really, really loathe/despise/hate this particular "art" form. Could some kind of vicious karma quickly mark the perpetrators? I'm not necessarily asking for maiming. Just some kind of semi-permanent, obnoxious or possibly humiliating marking on their persons made worse each time they mark something that isn't theirs. A minor stigmata of sorts. Acne doesn't count.

4. May I request Diet Coke in heaven? Or will I have to break that habit sooner than later?

5. Thank you for good girlfriends, old and new. I spent last night laughing with a couple of new ones over minestrone soup. I think good people make the world go round. I really do. I like talking to women. We're kind of awesome. Keep it coming.

6. I tried making chocolate chip cookies again on Monday. I even used Martha Stewart's fail-safe recipe. And again, my cookies bled into one another, spread out like pancake batter so thinly I could barely scrape them off the cookie sheet. I now have a tupperware dish filled with cookie bits that are soft and delicious, but look nothing like actual cookies. What can be done about this? Why must I always fail at cookies?

7. #2, the apartment next door, is being renovated at the moment. Because I have to listen to hours of pounding and banging and wall-rattling in my time off, may I somehow be reimbursed for the nuisance? Perhaps my future husband can move in next door. Yes, I think that would eliminate the bitter memory of the renovation annoyance quite sweetly.

8. Could the parents of my 10th grade honor boys form an alliance against their sons? You may have noticed, powers that be, that these young fellas are all growing braided Padowan-style side tails behind their ears. Perhaps this parent alliance could set a date and cut off aforementioned braided tails while their little lads sleep.

9. Nail polish chipping: I'm rather weary of this. Let's arrange something, shall we? I need at least a good week out of one paint job. Do you have any idea how long it takes for that stuff to dry and harden? It isn't right that somewhere between 24 and 48 hours later the things start looking like they've faced a jack hammer.

10. Please inform the individuals in the cars in front of me that when the sign that says "End School Zone" appears, that means it is time for you to resume the regular speed limit.

11. Quiet classrooms are beautiful things to behold. But then, so are noisy classrooms in which the noise all relates to social learning. Might you magnificent powers that be arrange to have the appropriate noise levels correlate with the appropriate moments in the arc of a lesson? I don't think I'm asking much here.

12. When I grow up, can I be as cool as some of my students? Seriously, I have never met such amazing 17 year olds as some of my AP kids. I was certainly not that brilliant or self-composed. I didn't have the keen taste in music and style sense that these individuals possess. I was awkward and insecure. I made up for it by behaving like a bit of a drama queen. All I ask is that, one day, I match them in their grace, goodness and nonchalant hip-ness.

13. Way to keep the inversion at bay. That sucker is depressing. I like to see the sky outside my window. I like the way the clouds shift and churn like a kaleidoscope. I like that the horizon is something tangible once again.

14. You know how I've been randomly waking up at two or three a.m.? You know how I look at my clock in panic only to realize I've a few more hours in bed? Let's just say I prefer these moments with the quick slide back into sleep. I prefer these half-awake peeks at the clock far more than those days I wake up seven minutes before the alarm goes off. Like today.

15. Can I have Javier Bardem for my 30th birthday? Pretty, pretty, pretty please. With a cherry on top.