Dear Kate McKinnon
Dear Kate McKinnon,
I realize you don’t do social media (yet), so this letter may have trouble finding you, but if we didn’t hit on cute girls we’d never find the bicurious ones amirite?
Don’t worry, this isn’t an attempt to hit on you - just because we are both gay and both blonde does not mean we are supposed to date.
Sometimes I have dreams where we are friends and then I wake up. I know it is a dream and we are not actually friends, but I would be lying if I didn’t say there are some mornings when I say to myself, “Liz, you’ll have another dream about Kate soon, don’t worry.” And that makes me feel better.
Full disclosure: these aren’t weird dreams. Usually we are at a park trading one-liners and making gay jokes. Also some about cats. I should also say: there are ALWAYS other people at the park AND sitting with us. We are friends within a group of friends. I am not dreaming about you alone in a park and spouting off gay one-liners. No, we are in the same group. Granted, these friends are usually vehicles to laugh at us - because in my dreams we are both very funny (versus just you), so it’s important to have that built-in audience.
You won my heart very early on in your SNL career. This might be due to the fact that my brother texted me on Sunday morning (he literally never does this) and said:
Truer words have never been spoken.
In efforts to encourage the beginning of this friendship, here are some thing we have in common:
We were both born in 1984.
We both played the piano.
We are both lesbians (that’s public, right? It is for me).
That’s all I have so far, but hopefully we will have some more things once you answer these questions:
Did you ever attend summer camp?
Did you ever get your head stuck in a soccer net by accident?
Did you ever keep a journal, ideally during your preteen into teen years?
Did you ever get caught checking out a girl at the rodeo without realizing it?
Did you ever play spin the bottle strategically with your looser female friends?
Did you ever attend a golf tournament and feel like you shouldn’t be there because it felt a little <i>too</i> comfortable?
I’m not Vegan, I’m
Liz