Feeling a little “dissed” by this week’s cover of Time, I decided to send my opinion to the Editor and thought it was worth sharing here.

Dear Editor,
Your cover was a total bait and switch scenario with both the title and image being misleading.  The actual article, which was very good, had little to do with being shy. It’s just a guess that a cover with the title, “The power being an introvert”, with an image of a regular person might not have appealed to as many buyers on newsstands.

I’m doubtful that many of my extroverted friends are reading this article (because they are too busy talking) so what you have done with the misleading cover, is reinforce that all of us introverts are shy.  While the introvert community is reading your piece and nodding along, the rest of the world may have missed a really great article because they see the word shy and think this is old news.

Jotter Girl

_________________

Beyond the cover, the article was great and defined so many of the positive aspects of being an introvert.  They even included a little quiz to see if you are an innie or an outie.  While I already know I am an introvert, I took the quiz anyway and wasn’t all too surprised when I answered 17 of the 19 questions with a very clear YES.   I think had they included a quiz to see if I am shy or not, I probably would have scored 17 of 19 questions with a NO.   Introverts are not necessarily shy, just ask me.

P.S.   This post was written from the bathroom at a huge party with tons of guests, which proves that I’m and introvert.  When a guest knocked on the door, I yelled “Take a hike, I’m very busy in here!” which proves that I am not shy.

Just before the holidays, I posted an open letter to  ventrally MORE telling them that my Christmas wish was to write a recurring feature for their magazine.  On Christmas morning, I pushed past my kids and ran downstairs to the tree, eager to see what Santa brought. I was hoping to find a beautifully wrapped box with a big red bow holding an invitation from undutifully MORE asking me to write for them.  Well, that’s not exactly how it went….

In my home, where it is just me and my 2 tween boys, I am Santa Claus.  Or at least I was up until last year when my children found out the truth on the school bus and the jig was up.  I have to admit that I was a little relieved this Christmas when I didn’t have to go out and buy a whole bunch of gifts for myself from Santa Claus.  Ever since my boys were young, they would say things like, “Mommy, you are soooo good that Santa will bring you lots and lots of goodies.”   In an effort to keep up the ruse, I would buy myself gifts and hide them along with my children’s packages.  Surely if I didn’t get anything, the boys might begin to think that Mommy wasn’t so good after all and I really didn’t need them having something to hold over my head for the coming year.

This year, the boys weren’t ready for things to change and still wanted me to “play” Santa Claus.  I agreed but advised them that “Santa” was now just for the kids.  So, I ordered myself a book and nothing more.  No stocking stuffers, no array of gifts to me under the tree.  I was looking forward to less wrapping, less dragging all those gifts up from their secret hiding places in the basement and getting to bed earlier on Christmas eve.   Then I had a change of heart when sadly, on December 23^rd, I received notification that the book was on back order and would not arrive until January.  There would be nothing for me under the tree for the first time in 50 years.  This got me thinking about Christmas wishes which in turn prompted me to write the post to MORE letting them know my wish.

Here we are in January, Christmas is all but put away and I am still waiting for my book.  Having forgotten about my open letter, I was startled this morning when my email inbox had a message from Santa MORE with the subject line:  Your wish, fulfilled

Along with a friendly note inviting me to pitch a blog post for their More.com website, they sent me this….

The people at MORE have a great sense of humor and I’m glad that they decided to use this photo and not one from my subsequent post where I am wearing fake mustaches.  You can bet that I will write and submit a piece for their Blogger of the Moment spot – with hopes that someday you’ll be able to come and read me over there.

Thank you MORE!

Photo credit: k*sco studios

Mock up MORE cover design:  MORE Magazine

Dear More,

I enjoy your magazine so much that sometimes I daydream about writing a regular column for you.  Something witty and smart that women will look forward to reading each month.  I imagine myself being for you, what Joel Stein is for Time.  My thoughts are full of what my page layout would look like, how my photo would be placed and what my catchy feature title would be.   Flipping through your December issue today, I realized that my 50 year old face might be at risk of a facelift from your art department.  I’m just putting it out there, that if my Christmas wish of writing for you comes true,  I do not want to look like Demi Moore in the Ann Taylor ads.  I want to be relatable… I want to look my age.

My facial resume includes, but is not limited to…..

Crows feet were earned from endless laughing fits over the last 5 decades, especially in the 1980′s.

That forehead line came from worry while waiting to adopt my first son.

The furrowed brow marks probably came from years of being a horrible math student.

Certain wrinkles were formed from squinting while painting, making sure colors were just right.

The bottom line of crows feet came from smiling at my children.

Those serious lines around my mouth are from pursing my lips together while not smiling at my boys.

Squint lines and age spots can be attributed to lining a double record album with shiny aluminum foil, slathering baby oil all over my face and sitting in the 1970′s noon day sun with my homemade reflector.

If this no retouching request is going to be a deal breaker for you, I give you permission to remove one deep line across the bridge of my nose, the three largest age spots and one deep wrinkle under each eye.  Since the lines on my neck just showed up one day and are not related to any experience, good or bad….go ahead and airbrush them away!  No more than that.   Just so we are clear, here is an example of what I do not want to look like.

My sense of humor, stories and wrinkles all come from years of experiences, the majority of which I wouldn’t trade for the world.   If by chance you decide to give me a column and I see my caricature instead of my photo at the top of the page, I’ll know that you probably thought I had a little too much experience.

Happy Holiday!

Dear Procter and Gamble,

In case you didn’t hear, I turned 50 last month, which means that I can now be considered an expert on tampons.  I estimate that I’ve used about 6,840  of them thus far, so I totally know what I am talking about.

This letter is not to complain about your product.  Tampax Compak is, in my opinion, the best tampon on the market.  What I am having an issue with is your packaging.  After looking at the Tampax box on my bathroom counter, I seriously wonder who writes your copy and are they trying to get me hauled off to the 3rd Precinct?

Exhibit A

So this is what happens when I walk into CVS Pharmacy.

Jotter Girl:  “I would like a box of Tampax Compak.”

Sales Guy:   “What size?”

Jotter Girl:  “Anything but Regular.”

Then he brings me a box of  Super Giant Extra Power Tampons

Jotter Girl:  “No, I said, Anything but Regular.”

Sales Guy looks at me and requests backup at the register.

Exhibit B

When the manager arrives, I explain to him that I want Anything but Regular and decide to add  “You know, the ones Cuter  than full size?“  He frowns and gets on the PA system calling Betty to the front register.

Exhibit C

When Betty arrives at the front counter, I turn to her like a long lost friend.

Jotter Girl:  “Betty, I am looking for Tampax Compak in Anything but Regular. You know, the cute, comfy and  clever tampons? You must know which ones I am talking about!  The Daring tampon!?!”

Betty looks at the manager and sales guy and then carefully reaches for the alarm button under the counter to call the cops.

P.S.  It probably wasn’t necessary for you to Trade Mark “Anything but Regular”, I can’t imagine any of the other Tampon makers trying to steal it.  I think they are okay with Light, Regular and Super.

Dear Shell,

I am leaving you for another gas station.

I’m publicly writing to you so the local gossip mill doesn’t start whispering that they saw me down the road with someone else’s pump.

Why have I cheated?  It just seems like you’ve let yourself go.  You aren’t as clean as you used to be and lately there’s been a smell.  Quite frankly, your pump sometimes finishes before my tank is full and occasionally isn’t working at all.

Shell, I’ve been completely faithful to you for many years but admit that I’ve been over at Giant twice in the last few weeks.  I feel completely guilty and cannot continue this way behind your back.   Hopefully you can find it in your heart to forgive me.

Yes, the “other station”  is younger, but that’s not why I’ve strayed.  I feel cared for over there…..I guess you could say, that Giant understands me.  Giant is bright, clean, cheerful and offers me the gift of free protection every time I stop over.

You, on the other hand expect me to handle your pump with out any protection at all.  Lord knows who’s been touching your equipment and what kind of germs you are carrying.  I just hate thinking of who was there before me.

P.S.      Rest assured Shell, it isn’t just you.

I admit that I’ve taken extra mitts to protect me throughout the day from other germs.  I sure hope the news gets back to my ATM and they install a box of Gas Mitts ATM Mitts.  I can already feel my wandering eye looking at other ATMs.