Confetti~

No, not me. 

The singer songwriter now 21 or recently turned 22 or whatever. (That’s why you named your album that right?)

First of all, congratulations on your Grammy and all. I know “Chasing Pavements” was running through my head all last year. And I’ve got to tell you, your newly found fame has definitely helped me when people see my name (…or yours), on paper. Our name isn’t common as you know, and it has caused me quite a few problems.

Before my youth soccer games, the refs would have to check us in by reading our names off a quickly scribbled roster. And when my name came up I heard all sorts of things such as: A-DEL-LAY, A-DEEL, AI-DLE…totally botched,  and unforgivable even considering my coach’s shaky handwriting…But then you came around, singing that “Hometown Glory”-ous song that made my name make sense to everyone. Gone are the days of nervous nurses at the dentist call window stumbling over my name like a road bump. Instead, I’m summoned by a beaming assistant who surely has your voice in mind, sounding my name like the most familiar note ever sung. Done are the days of carelessly written name tags saying

like a 3 year old trying to make sense of letters. Now the welcoming committee no longer needs to ask about spelling. In fact, it becomes more like a rhetorical question: “Oh, like the singer right?” 

So I thank you…

But I’m not finished. I got some other issues:

Every time someone says, “I love Adele!” of course my ego perks its hot ears thinking its me. But 99.999% of the time its most definitely you. Lord knows I don’t have a singing voice, so no one’s talking about my heavenly soprano. 

Then I realized that when you achieved fame, I could no longer make a name for myself. And by that I’m pretty sure you know what I mean…You see, I wanted to become famous, you know being a sports model, or one of the greatest keepers alive to date Drake (*ahem). But now, I can’t be famous as “Adele”…that’s already taken.

I mean look at my nicknames: Deli, Adelphia, Adelephant, Delimeats…I guess beyond the over-sized mammals, cable companies, and evenly sliced meats, being referred to a famous singer isn’t so bad. Anything is better than the next guy telling me, “Dude, I got A Dell.” Instead,the latest pick up line is, “Hey, I really liked your last single. Speaking of single…” *Puke*.

Back to the point. I got some serious brainstorming to do! Elle, D, Addie J…(Yeah it needs some work). God willing I get an agent with creative genius.

Well back down to my reality, I have one last issue—probably the most problematic of them all. You see I’ve developed a fan club at my soccer games. Now why would that ever be a bad thing? It’s never a good thing from the opposite team. Imagine the most sarcastic lot you’ve ever met singing your club hit of the year:

“I shoulda had the baaaaaaAAAaaaaaaaaaaall,

When I called keeeEEEeeep…”

Being a goalkeeper, I’m used to banter and insults coming behind my goal. But THIS…this is probably the most distracting jeering I’ve ever experienced. (Clever, I’ll give ‘em that). Sticks and stones may break my bones but catchy tunes remain. As soon as I caught myself singing: Goodbye focus! My psychologist told me I have to put “Rolling in the Deep” on my pump-up playlist now—Say to myself, “That’s right, I make saves to this song!” But I’m happy to say, now I do.

So I guess my problems aren’t so bad…us sharing names and all. I just felt that I should let you know how your fame changed my life. And I’m really glad that your vocal surgery went well because in truth I really like your music and what your doing in the industry.

So I guess ultimately what I’m saying is: thank you.

The girl who shares your name with bittersweet pride,

Adele