dear stomach,

would you please just explode already?
i'm sorry for being the dumbest bitch ever this morning and putting a whole bagel with cream cheese in you this morning after consuming approx. 98 cups of the hunch punch last night... but you're supposed to have carbohydrates after you drink, right?


i feel like asshole. please, god, just let me puke.
or kill me.


i hate everything,
Dear dude I was dating for like a second,

You're the first person I've dated like... ever after my failed 6 year relationship. So I just wanted to say thanks for showing me the ropes. You know, you act really cute and make me really like you, then proceed to take advantage of me, and finally you silently disappear. Now I know what to expect and why my single friends are so goddamn bitter. For the record, you aren't that good in the sack and I can (and will) upgrade soon.

Thanks for the memories asshole,
Dear absentee roommate who just happened to show up this morning to find several prescription bottles, a stack of $20s, two empty bottles of vodka and a couple pairs of underwear strewn across the floor,

I'd tell you the truth behind these circumstances, but that'd be way less fun.

Dear blue balls,

Do you really exist? If so, can you compare the pain you cause a guy to something a girl can feel? Can it be so bad that you make a guy start limping?

I think I've met you, but not exactly sure. I'm going to go read my Sex For Dummies book to find out more...

Hoping there's an illustration,
Dear Condesending Public,

Just because I'm more logical, some-what knowledgable and a bit smater than you doesn't mean you have to snub my wisdom with that very condesending line "You're only 14, what did you know?"
What do I know? A lot actually.
I know that momzy is actually whispering about sex to her asteemed friends. Yes, I can hear you. And yes, I know what sex is.
I know that my neighbour has a really bad addition to her house, and only the deperate will be wiling to pay rent for such an ugly house, even though people tell me that the brick-face and bad positioning in fact isn't that bad I can tell those people one is. It's hideous.
So yes, I have real opinions. Deal with it.

Blowing off some steam,

Dear Creeper 101

What the fuck? Seriously. Even after making the terms of our "relationship" clear, you still call me, text me, talk to me and pretty much need me like a pathetic little puppy.

Normally, this would appeal to me, but after being screwed over by a gay boyfriend (who i didn't know was gay-haha) who left me for the father of my friend's child, I'm done with the commitment and all the other bullshit that goes with over-hormonal loved-up and delusional teens. Even after you profusely apologised, i still think you are fucking psycho: that doesn't change just because I made you see the light.

Tired of creepers,
Dear Boys who have been in my life over the past 3 years,

I am just starting to realized that you all have one thing in common. Last names that are nouns. A bird, a vegetable, an object............I mean seriously?!?!?! Do I have some secret problem with my own last name that I am compensating for? Whatever the reason, I'm loving it, so............keep em' coming!

Wondering who's next,

Dear Blacking Out,

Aha! I've been wondering if we were ever going to meet. I'm amazed I made it this far in my charmed life without bumping into you, you asshole. You see, baby, I was blessed with a built in mechanism called "a weak stomach" that always had me gracefully hovering over the Porcelain Goddess before you'd roll in.

But about last night... You're not all fratarded fun and games like I sometimes hear about, eh? You're actually nothing but an embarrassing date that haunts me in the form of flashbacks and scoldings. And you're a liar. You were like, "Haha, let's say totally outlandish things to people who will later harshly judge us! Everyone's doing it!" No, Blacking Out, not everyone was doing it. And they weren't giggling or falling down either. And sending me outside in a just a T-shirt when I live in the damn tundra? That was just mean.

I gave you a chance, but I'm afraid you're just not my type. Go find yourself a high schooler who doesn't know better.

Back off,
Dear blue-eyed boy who danced with me and shyly flirted,

Thank you for proving decent boys still exist. Thanks for the butterflies, and thanks for getting my mind off the d-bag who leads me on despite his 3-year relationship. Oh, and thanks for having blue eyes. You're adorable and I can't wait for you to call me back.

This will probs end in disappointment,
Dear life,

You know you are really into a guy when you agree to be in his grad school research study and let him weigh you, measure your body fat, and put blood pressure cuffs all over your body (which for the record DOES hurt). I'm pretty sure this guy could ask me to do pretty much anything and I'd blush and nod. I really need to get a grip...

Dear Mom,

I never thought you would be a reason for me to think our family is white trash, but your behavior lately has proven otherwise. And moreover, by lately, I mean over THANKSGIVING.

Not only did you spend 2 out of the 4 nights I was home at your boyfriend's house, but then you basically stole my credit card. For his purchases, I think. But even if not, WHAT. THE. FUCK. What was going through your head when you said to yourself, "of course it's okay to use someone's credit card without telling them" ?!?

Now I know exactly what my older brother was talking about when he said to never, EVER let family borrow money. I assume you screwed him over at some point too, and that's why he's so stingy.

It would be different if it were around $20 and you had forgotten to tell me or something. But you KNEW what you were doing. Not to mention that it was like SIX purchases totaling over $200! REALLY.

Why isn't it possible to disown your parents?
Dear Grandma,

I know I'm staying with you for free and the whole deal isn't bad... But I could really do without the disapproving glares when I roll in at 10 am the morning after my date still wearing the same clothes from the night before. Come on I'm 23... and FYI yes we slept in the same bed and we had sex and it was hot! I really need roommates who aren't in their 70's!

Love your floozy granddaughter,
Dear Super-Awesome Girl:

I think I’m in deep shit.

Yeah, we like each other. I actually like you so much I’m stupid. I don’t know what I’m doing.

I went to a wedding by myself two weekends ago. No biggie, right?

It’s not like we’ve been seeing each other seriously, anyway. You’re on the road working, like always, so you weren’t even ABLE to go to this wedding. But it’s not like I got invited to bring a guest in any case.

Plus my buddy’s bride-to-be’s friends are HAWT…and I’ve mad crushed on buddy-groom’s dishy little sis since college.

So I fly into Austin, where the wedding is. I’m in the wedding party, so I meet everybody. His family LOVES me. I chill with his dad and bullshit about all his future daughter in law’s hottie friends.

And my other, “not-getting-married-and-totally-from-a-different-circle” buddy who just happens to be a DJ (but isn’t attending the wedding) also lives in Austin.
So after the reception, my boy’s gear is set up in the phat SUITE I have all to myself, and he spins a sick afterparty . DJ boy feels like the lotto winner because he gets to meet all the girls who, as always, jock the DJ.

Plus the night manager gets a fat bribe from my forward-thinking self, so he doesn’t care two shits about the noise.

It’s perfect, right? Bridesmaids, my buddy’s sister, and other bunnies, all in the mood to party, are whooping it up in my room…and oh yeah, some dudes, too. And we have a blast without any worries about complaints.

I feel like I'm pimp o' the week.

And as things wrap up around 3am, DJ boy disappears with somebunny back to her room, leaving me alone with two girls: super-hot half-Japanese I-Banker girl from NYC…and groom’s drunk sis who keeps putting her hands on me.

And I think to myself, “I can PICK…or maybe even have BOTH stay.” It's totally possible. I mean, I could really...truly...conceivably pull this off.

But, Super-Awesome Girl…you fucked everything up.

All I had to do is be smooth…but I kept thinking about YOU goddamit. I had two girls in my room, neither who wanted to be the one to leave, and I’m focused on YOU, a girl in another fucking city…who might not even be serious about me.

I spend YEARS waiting and working to create moments like this. This will likely never happen again. And I can’t get Super-Awesome girl out of my head. I’m FUUUUUCKED.

So I say, “I’m tired.” And I-Banker girl looks at me like I’m retarded (I am) and she leaves. And buddy’s sister takes the clue to climb on me…and I have to tell her “no.”

Little sister is really angry and hurt, and gets tears in her eyes and says something about how she could tell I’ve liked her since forever, and that I’m mean and stupid and crazy, and she’s embarrassed. She’s right on all counts. I’m totally a dick.

But I say I’m sorry. I just can’t hook up with her. I literally walk her out the door and shove it shut saying some bullshit about how “no…you’re my best friend’s sister…this is wrong.” (Even though I don’t have any qualms about that at ALL…my real issue is you on the brain, Super-Awesome Girl.)

Drunken sister stays at the door, knocking softly, for a LONG time.

And when she finally leaves, I pick up the phone and call you, Super-Awesome Girl…just so I can hear your voice. You’re all sleepy and annoyed at being woken up, but we chat about the wedding and I th ink about how your hair smells like roses from your conditioner or shampoo or some other girlie lotion-type shit.

…and you have no idea how bad I have it for you and what stupid shit that makes me do.

If this is “falling in love,” it can go fuck itself. I hate being pathetic.

Dragging defeat from the jaws of victory,
- Super-pathetic T