Dear Zac Efron,

Now that you are older, assuming that “older” means that you are smart enough to understand the repercussions of life choices such as Charlie St. Cloud and breaking up with Vanessa Hudgens, it feels appropriate that I resend this letter I wrote you almost two years ago. Hitting the “Publish” button will carry my voice into the ether in the form of so much html code, and hopefully it will find its way, uncorrupted, into your ears.

It might also be of interest that I have aged considerably in the physical department, but at heart I am still a 21-year-old rabidly ogling your abs of steel.

with love,


1 Dec 2008

Dear Zac Efron

As I type this, you are in the next room dripping hot fudge in the ripples in your six-pack. Frankly I find that disgusting, and I’m not sure why we entertain the commodified notions of “sexual play” that society has dealt us, but I do understand that after all those hours playing the good boy on TV (and now the big screen), you really do need to have a little fun.

And while I’m always game for a little fun (as long as it’s disease-free), I know that afterwards, we’ll both just roll out of bed and probably occasionally text each other about how “the moon is smiling! it smiles for you my apple-bottomed star of the night!” alongside the good night and good morning routine.

What I’m looking for, Zac, is someone who will make my head hurt; someone with whom I know I will DIE (literally die) if I didn’t get my life story out with him on the other line to listen to it. I’m looking for someone who will pick at my brain and want to take care of me even if I tend to violently lash out during bad dismenorrhea spells. Once I was in bed screaming for a Midol to alleviate the pain in my ladypipes, and when I got my Midol I threw the bottle at whoever handed it to me. And I’m not saying that you’re not going to put up with that or that you’re too dumb to talk to–I’m just saying I don’t want you to be around for any of it.

Nick Hornby wrote that the difference between a pop song and so-called “real music”, is that whoever writes “real music” is really burning up in their desperation to get it out, to communicate what it is they have to say. Zac Efron, you are a pop song. And I’m looking for real music.

With love,


Though it cannot be denied that you are adorable and that some pop songs will stay with you forever.

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