Tina Cohen-Chang. Respect.

Either you’ll reach your critical level of weirdness and things will even out after that, or you’re in for the strangest year of your life next year. Personally I’m hoping for the latter, because it guarantees I’ll get to hear interesting stories. I mean, assuming we haven’t stopped talking for some reason before then. You never know, right? I spent most of the summer listening to you sing while we were at camp, it’s hard not to believe in you after that. And yeah, a baseball metaphor seems appropriate there. I wonder if they make him turn in test schedules and evaluations months ahead of time just to be sure they’re actually getting done.

At last if it’s weird I could write a truly great novel that no one would need to know is somewhat autobiographical. They always say write what you know; things going absolutely crazy could be good for my career. And interesting stories for you, which just makes it better, you’re right. No matter what happens this year, I hope we don’t stop talking; you’ve become one of my favorite people to talk to.  You aren’t secretly also a baseball player, too? Because I’m willing to try and learn about football, and I already know a decent amount about dance, but I’m not sure I could handle trying to understand another sport you might like. I really wish I could be a fly on the wall at one of Mr. Schue’s schoolboard meetings now, I’m way too curious about how McKinley hasn’t burned down by now.

You mean love-love kind of show, right? The last few seasons got completely out of control and it took watching them a few times through before I think I figured out what was going on. But, if you’re willing to listen to me geek out, I know of a decently smart senior guy who’d love to join in on your rewatch and compare theories. Maybe it was Figgins’s way of being a good guy and trying to make up for us being social pariahs the rest of the time? What does the cliche prom dream entail for you? You know, for science.

That was back in the days where watching things online didn’t happen much, and my parents never subscribed to needing a Tivo, so for me it was usually the one viewing and then I had to try and remember details as best as I could. Of course I’m willing. Mom and dad were not the best viewing companions, it’d be great to have someone who appreciates it. Although I need to know in advance how you felt about Sawyer and his two ladies, because that might be a deal breaker that we need to promise not to comment on if we don’t agree. You know, I’m not entirely sure, but I can definitely tell you it doesn’t include the words, “Woman, get me some punch,” nor does it include getting slushied or having to drink Puck’s spiked Koolaid monstrosity. For someone who’s such a self-proclaimed party king, you’d think he’d be better at proportioning drinks.

High school has been even weirder than TV set me up to believe, so maybe I’ll get lucky and just get all the craziness out of the way before college even starts. There’s no way that would work; once everyone finds out how talented you are, they’d never let you go back to ensemble projects. It’s not the most comforting thought, is it? But now he’s got more responsible people holding him accountable than he did when he was just our teacher. I hope. 

That’s true, we have had a disproportionate amount of weirdness. And I’ve still got nearly two years, who knows what might happen. Hopefully it won’t involve Rachel trying to swipe her credit card in anyone’s buttcrack again, that stands out as a weirdness highlight from our trip to Nationals. I don’t think I’d be in that high of demand, but I like your confidence. If I believe in myself even half as much as you seem to believe in me, I’ll knock my performance out of the park... That’s the right sports analogy, isn’t it? I hope so, too. Maybe the school board’s keeping a close eye on him...

Please, you’re giving me an excuse to eat trash food. I’ll happily be the taste tester for both of us. All I can think of now is that I need to rewatch Lost. Does it make you think of polar bears and smoke monsters, and a mysterious vault buried deep in the jungle? At the time I never questioned you and Artie and Blaine being allowed at prom, but that is kind of weird. I guess they figured if you were part of the entertainment they couldn’t really say you couldn’t be there.·

Oh, Lost. Such a love-hate kind of show, but I could stand to do a rewatch of it. Especially in the later seasons, where I just completely lost track of what was going on. Maybe it would help if I watched it with a certain smart senior guy who would compare theories with me? Right? Performing just seems like a flimsy excuse for us to get to stay the entire night and act like we belong there, but maybe they were just that hard-pressed for entertainment. At least now I have more opportunities to achieve the fantastic cliche prom dream.

Something about acknowledging the reality of the situation makes the embarrassment sting even more. You know what? I would definitely try a cereal topped donut. It sounds like it has the potential to be mind-blowing. You don’t like coconut?! That has to be the first time I’ve ever heard someone say that, and I’m not sure I can recover from the shock. Mhm it really wouldn’t be much of a surprise if we were just covering for Figgins in the past. And at least we can honestly say that no one ever threw things at us when we performed at school dances; it’s about the only time we sang in front of people that I can think of where that didn’t happen.

Really? I was thinking it was a poor substitute for sprinkles, so I think you’re going to have to do that taste test for the both of us. I know, it’s weird, but I think it’s a texture thing? That and it has weird, ‘lost on an island after a plane crash’ connotations, which you totally shouldn’t judge me for. That’s true. Punch just might not travel as far as slushies, but either way, I’m so glad I was spared from red stains all over my prom dress. Even if me being allowed at prom as a freshman and a sophomore was a little weird...

I just hope living in the dorms doesn’t end up being too bad even if the idea of getting assigned someone to live with based on the roommate lottery makes me nervous. I can’t say I wouldn’t be interested in seeing you try to combine all of that into a single act, but yeah. It wouldn’t be the easiest approach. And that’s true; for as much as Mr. Schue talked about how much glee club meant to him, he really didn’t do much to help ensure our success. Leaving our set lists to the last minute couldn’t have helped our chances in competitions when we were up against groups who had been perfecting their performance since before we even knew what songs we were doing. Have I mentioned lately how great you are?

TV has to make it seem worse than it really is, right? I mean, there’s no way roommates can really be as terrible as they seem to be on every sitcom about college freshmen. Maybe I’ll save it for a talent show act or something; give the world a tiny taste of Tina Cohen-Chang before I retreat back to just focusing on ensemble projects. I’m glad that Mr. Schue’s not in charge anymore, even if I’m a little scared to think that he’s supposedly managing year-long calendars for the entire school now... You might have, but I don’t mind hearing it again. 

Fair enough. It’s definitely my backup plan if dance school doesn’t work out, but hopefully I’ll never have to find out exactly how stressful a journey that would be. You’re just good at too many things: singing, writing, costume design…it’s too bad there’s not an obvious way to combine the three with a single major. After you and Puck killed it at Invitationals I can’t imagine her not being serious about letting you show off at Sectionals. I’ll try to make sure you don’t end up regretting it, in that case.

At least freshman dorms are generally pre-furnished; it seems like it’s the later years when people start living off campus that make it even more of a pain on move-in day. I guess I am pretty good at most of those things, but I don’t know how to combine them short of becoming a one-woman singing show, performing original material in my own costumes. And as much as I want solos, I actually kind of like the ensemble aspect of things. I keep waiting for Rachel to mention something about is getting a part at Sectionals, but so far nothing. At least Miss Holliday makes us pick our set lists sooner than Mr. Schue did, so we ought to know really soon. I don’t think I could ever regret anything that has to do with you.

You can do it, I believe in you. If you go through the drive through, you don’t even have to look anyone in the eye when you order. Seriously, honey nut cheerios. I don’t know what whoever came up with the recipe was thinking, but it doesn’t sound like something I’d ever want to drink. I’m taking it as a sign that I should avoid the secret menu website for the foreseeable future. I always assumed the “ruining your voice with too much dairy” thing was something Rachel made up, but apparently I was wrong; can you not switch out soy milk or coconut milk and avoid the vocal damage? Not that I’m encouraging a frappuccino binge anytime soon. Not having to be the entertainment this time around would be fantastic. I never understood why Mr. Schue did that - it’s not like our performances were all that well received in general.

It’s true; eye contact makes embarrassing situations all the more humiliating. The only way to make it worse is if they actually topped it with the cereal -- which reminds you, did I ever tell you that I saw a donut with fruit loops on top one time? People eat the strangest combinations. No, she didn’t make it up; it does coat your throat and it affects your voice, at least immediately after you’ve had it. But it’s Rachel, so she did grossly exaggerate it, and I can’t blame you for not taking her seriously. I could switch it out, but I’m actually not a big fan of coconut milk. Or coconut anything; I didn’t even like it when I used coconut shampoo. I tried it for one bottle and then immediately switched to something different, no matter how good coconut oil supposedly is for my hair. I don’t know; he thought we needed visibility, but McKinley dances really weren’t the best way to get it. Maybe Principal Figgins just always forgot to book real music and recruited us instead.