Dear Jamaicans,

Please stop using my credit card to buy Iphones via google. It was annoying the first 2 times, but the third..Karma is going to kick you in the ass mon!

W.W.B.M.D (What Would Bob Marley Do),

PS Thank god for Capitol One No Hassel AMAZINGNESS
Dear person at work,

I would just like to let you know that I do not respond well to your constant belittling and knitpicking me. It's one thing to point out that I did something wrong and ask if I can correct it, say, on a report. But it is totally another to actively SEARCH for things that I'm doing wrong in normal life, and constantly make comments about them. Like when you went on and on about how I pushed the wrong freakin button on the elevator to go down instead of up. Yeah, dumbass, I pushed the wrong freakin button, but no one told you that you HAD to get on that freakin elevator. I do believe your bossy ass could have just waited for the next elevator to go up. Good job Einstein! Don't blame me because you're a loser.

And another thing, stop pretending not to stare at my round and supple ass when I'm making copies. I have had this sexy rear-end my ENTIRE LIFE, and I have grown accustomed to people staring at my ass, and I can usually tell when they are, even with my back turned. So just stop because it is ultra awk-ward.

I think that is all for now. Until next time, when you say something stupid, like how I took that mail out too late or how I should rearrange the coffee mugs in the cabinet or something.

Get off my ass...literally,
dear balding woman,

dude. that. sucks.

when i saw you i didn't laugh, i cringed.

ever since i saw your shiny scalp glistening through what was left of your thinning hair i've been doing a lot of thinking…

this is seriously tragic. i mean no, it isn't life threatening. it isn't AIDS or cancer. i'm sure someone has even tried to console you and tell you it could be worse. but sweetheart, don't listen. your condition is social-life threatening and definitely the dead end of your sex-life. hope you've got a large, ribbed, vibrating dildo in your underwear drawer.

i've thought about your options. rogaine (smelly and time consuming)? hair transplants (painful and obviously fake)? wigs (only for trannies)? but i'm sure you've considered, if not tried, all of the above.

women aren't supposed to go bald, that's reserved for men. men can get by with it. yeah, there might be smirks but I'm sure they can still talk someone into giving them a bj every now and again.

so here is what i propose: bald women awareness month. somewhat similar to breast cancer awareness month. and why not? bald women have it just as hard as women with breast cancer, if not worse. i can just imagine it now... (fade into dream like setting, saved by the bell style)…little ribbons to wear on your jacket, marathons where people wept openly while bald, sweaty women with 3 haired ponytails crossed the finish line, grinning and wiping sweat from their fleshy heads…(fade back to reality)…

do they at least give you a discount when you get your hair cut?

M in SF
Dear Outlook on Life:

Why are we so upbeat?

The economy is teetering on the brink, world news is awful and this whole political season is just tiresome. We're completely out of things we believe in beyond the infinite human capacity for stupidity...

Yet we're in such a good fucking mood!! WHY?!?!

Is it only because this summer's crop of movies is so awesome?! Are we really that shallow?

Let's hope so,

p.s. Good work, evil hollywood.
Dear guy who got arrested on my lunch break,

Next time you're arrested for something you "didn't do," pick a locale other than the Starbucks patio in Indy's self-proclaimed 'art & theater district' to rendezvous with the sheriff. Not only did you freak me out a little, you also scared a little old lady enjoying her iced latte and even worse, you made me lose my train of thought ~ just as I was deciding what kind of booze to bring to girls' night. Also, your tie was ugly.

Good luck making bail,
dear boyfriend,

so, i know i wanted to "take things slow" and not be a big slutty mcslutslut from whoretopia, but wow. why did i do that? sex to the point of trembling is my favorite thing on earth!

you just can't do wrong. you're cute, caring, nice, sexy, tall, and mindblowing in the sack!

Dear Hemingway,

Thanks for the recommendation! Botin restaurant near the Plaza Mayor in Madrid is amaaazing. Your recommendation of the suckling pig was unreal. We took a cue from you, got tipsy on sangria and pretended we were characters in The Sun Also Rises (I don't want to be the slutty one, you be the slutty one, no, I'll be the impotent guy). The live guitar quartet entertainment was great as was the random British guys at the next table paying off the band to serenade us directly. Twice.. And the lead guitarist chatting us up and inviting us to their next gig was pretty amusing too. We didn't go (not huge fans of men in tights), but it was exciting nonetheless. Anyways, thanks for the magically romantic girly date night.

Aspiring alcoholic geniuses,
Shameless and Massie
Dear Unattainable Coworker,

Your behavior of late has made me relieved that things didn't work out for us. Getting pissy because I have new friends that I hang out with? Acting like a jealous boyfriend because I don't sit inappropriately close to you at lunch (when you picked the side of the table with no chairs next to yours!), and instead sit next to the "New" Crush? What the hell!! You can't get mad that I moved on because YOU decided you didn't want to be with me! You're acting more like a girl than I've ever seen a man I was interested in act--and that's because I'm not interested in girly men. Seriously, it's a huge turn-off and only makes me more inclined to not want to even be friends, because you are acting incapable of being just friends. You rejected me, remember? Not the other way around.

To top it all off, I'm super stressed about work this week, AND I'm taking the GMAT on Saturday, so I'm stressed about that, too. I told you I had no time to hang out this week after work (and you only ever want to hang out when your g/f is out of town) because I'd be studying, and you decided to take it personally. I told you I had no time to talk on IM because I have this super important project to finish at work (or the company is DOOMED... well, close), and you bitched and moaned for over an hour. And then when I told you I was sorry you were upset but, once again, didn't have time to talk about it, you just took it as proof that your delusions have a basis in reality.

And Dear Lifers, I'm not being passive-aggressive. I told him all of the above, and he couldn't deal. So here I am, bitching to a blog instead.

I'm really starting to appreciate being single.
Dear Toiletries in Boyfriend's Bathroom,

The other day when I was on the potty with my pants hugged around my ankles, I could not help but giggle when I noticed you. You are so incredibly man-ish that it kills me. Unlike my products which say "with alpha hydroxy pore cleansers" or "to fight aging and enhance natural glow", ALL of the labels of your products simply state their use and nothing else. "Hand soap", "Mouth rinse", "Skin Cream", are just a few of what I saw. I know that generic brands tend to be less complicated, but these were ridiculous. Where did you even find half this stuff? Is there a secret man aisle I don't know about?! Simply. Says what it is. Done.

What killed me was the "Hair & Body wash". Do you know how many products I use to wash my hair and body alone? More than one. And God knows they are all fruit infused 'with avocado concentrates' or have apricot exfoliants.

If Only It Were That Easy.

P.S. The other day I bought a body wash because the bottle said it contained 'ribbons of moisture'. I have no idea what that means, but it somehow makes me feel better about myself and my shower experience.
Dear Calories and Money,

So I've been doing some thinking and I'm going to spare the poppycock* and get straight to the point: I think you should flip-flop your little gain/expenditure schedules you've somehow gotten into the groove of.

Calories you are so easy to come by but yet so hard to get rid of. And you, money, so much harder to come by yet so so so easy to spend. Just think what a fantabulous place the world would be if y'all just did a lil' swappity swap. We'd all have bangin' bodies to go with our rad new threads...oh the possibilities...

So whatdaya say?

M in SF

*Here would be a pretty good spot to have the definition of poppycock, wouldn't it?
Dear Upstairs Neighbors,

Last week, I was nearly ready to call the cops because you repeatedly got into violent-sounding screaming matches at 1 am, and frankly, I feared for my ability to sleep through the nights. Last night you woke me up again--but judging from the incredibly loud moans (nearly screams) of pleasure I heard wafting through the night air, you've made up. And it sounds like a really good time was had by all. Thinking back, I'm almost sorry that I didn't still call the cops last night, because really, that would've been funny. ("There are screams coming from the apartment upstairs, officer! I think he's beating her!")

Anyway, glad things are happy once again in Domestic-PartnershipLand, but if you guys could keep a lid on your noise polluting ways in the middle of the night, I'd really appreciate it. Please just keep your fights, and your make-ups, to yourselves.

Dear Body Part Two,

On second thought, maybe I should take advantage of your current state. The Ben & Jerry's across the street has been taunting me for weeks. Now's my chance. Zero calories and I get to taste it twice. Waaaaaaaahaha. Eat that*, sucka!

B&J Here I Come,
M in SF

*pun intended
Dear Body,

Fuggin' a. I'm sorry. I drank too much last night, I get it. You made your point. LOUD AND CLEAR. I know I deserve some of this, but comeonnnnn, give a girl a break. I like the toilet in my new apartment but not when my head is in it. I've tried everything. I've given you all sorts of nutritious goodies today and you've rejected every single one. Hell, I'll compromise. Will you please just accept some water and a Tylenol to get rid of this jackhammer in my head?

Forgive me please and let's move on. I'm begging.

Vom (literally),
M in SF
Soorry if you go this earier, there was a COMPETER ere, not, I'm not dunk, WTSefe okay , ayay


I'm sorry that I was b usy vbeing smart and learning and shit drhing Cpatin Imcomnpetent's last FIFTWEWEN YEARS of being emascualted by hjis high-earoning wife. 'm retty sure that's not reason to make this fucknig ass clown by immmdieatiate boss bc I W2ILL WRECK SOMEONE and um,,,,,i dont' want o ahve to find a new job. *siiigh*

I take back the I'm not druikn in the headli8ne ahahahahah. fuck. my life sucks and I have tyo answer to soneone w/ the IGQ of a fudkcng pennyt. a IDRYTY peneny
Dear Japanese exchange student,

When I found out my parents were getting you I was kinda pissed. I mean what did they need another child for when they had me?! But it turns out you were pretty cool and you kinda kick ass. Plus you endured living with my family for a year, a feat I wouldn't wish on anyone. That being said- I'll miss you when you leave Sunday and I hope I can come visit you in Tokyo ASAP.


Dear Vintage 70s style high waisted jeans,

I can't believe I justified spending a hundo on you (kinda a steal), despite the fact that you were previously worn just because you were in the window and I didn't want anyone else to have you. you are super hot but draw ridiculous attention to my badonk with your no-pockets, ass hugging back. I wish my best friend were in the same city to cheer me on when I go out in them bc it will take balls. Its hard and financially challenging to be fashion forward (okay, backward).

I love you though.
Dear Being Single Part Dos,

I like that I don't have to shave my puss-ah every day. All natural, baaabay.

M in SF
Dear Life,

Just wondering what kind of parent sends her kids the following email, and copies their (still married) dad? Shouldn't parents just keep their shit together without pulling their "children" into it? It's bad enough that my siblings and I are clearly so warped from the example of their passive-aggressive family life that we will never have our own successful or functional relationships...

(oh, and for the pre-email record, she is lying about inviting him on some of said trips. sometimes she told him as she walked out the door. my car is not supposed to be driven bc it already has over 100k miles on it, needs service, and I am trying to sell it back in my hometown. She wanted to take it on a roadtrip bc her BMW convertible is too small. she went and bought her own Lexus SUV to remedy the situation - she's not a deprived victim) (and yes, Dad is being vindictive and mean in his own way. But this is THEIR SHIT - not mine. And 1 of my siblings is NOT nor ever was coming on this trip). I am trying not to pass judgment on the situation...moreso the fact that she felt this email was appropriate...


I don't know if any of you are wondering why or why not I am coming to visit Blondie with all the rest of you that Dad invited. Dad did not invite me. I asked if he was going to plan this trip before I left for xxx(a different trip). He had pulled up tickets to the BBall Game and left them on the computer for me to see. So before I left for xxxx I told him if he did decide to do this I wanted to go also.
When I got back from xxx, he had made all the plans.. I was not included. His excuse was I had just been to xxx with Blondie... He was invited to go to xxx also... he just chose not to go... He said I had been up there at Easter to visit Blondie, yes and I had asked him to go,, and he chose not to go... every time I have gone to NY unless it was a girls trip, I have invited him to go.. I was not invited to go on this trip.
So I asked him why cant I go? He said you don't like baseball.... I said Blondie doesn't like baseball.. this was more than baseball.. it was a family trip...It was the Yankees.... it was Yankee stadium... remember me??? I am the one who went to the baseball hall of fame,, I went to the hockey hall of fame.... I went to the foot ball hall of fame.......was this because I liked those sports?.... NO because I thought your Daddy would like them and so included those places in our trip to the World Series and other trips..... I never told him he couldn't go. anywhere... . so I asked then can I go ?? he said no you cannot go... it sounded like something my Daddy might have said not my husband,,,, he says you cannot drive Blondie's car.. you cannot drive my car...I don't need another Daddy telling me what I can and cannot do.. I need a husband not to be so mean to leave me out of a trip I wanted to go on.... My work schedule is Tues and Wed..... Dad is leaving on Thursday and coming back on Monday.... all the days I do not work.... It would have been so easy to have come, and not even have to take off work..... but instead I have 5 straight days at home by myself... no work -- no plans--- just sitting... and thinking how mean this was --- when Dad knew I wanted to come.
I just wanted to be sure if it ever came up.... that I wasn't too busy, I wasn't working,, It wasn't that I was just there--- I was not invited and I was TOLD I cannot come even if I pay my own way,

Just so there is no confusion...

I have cried and cried over this and it makes your Daddy mad to think I have told anyone what he has done--- He just should not have done this,, It was intentionally mean and meant to hurt me... my heart is broken... that he would do this...I told him last week.. all you have to do is say ,, I had no idea this was so important to you.... of course you can go.. I had no idea you were so upset...and it would be forgotten and forgiven . but he just stared at me and shrugged his shoulders.. He did not want to make it better, even after he knew how upset I was.


Mom and Dad: Keep me out of your shit. I already moved thousands of miles away to escape this shit and guilt and pain you inflict in my life. You will NOT suck me back in. I will cut you off completely if I have to. Please just get divorced so I can use it as an excuse to not come home for any holidays and avoid dealing with you all...I am so sorry I have not been strong enough to refuse your visits.I just don't have the strength to join in your petty drama.

Beyond late for therapy,

P.S. I would be willing to bet my rent controlled apartment that she BCC:ed some of her friends on that email.
Dear stupid boy,

Don't try and get me naked, hook up, treat me like your gf all weekend and then say we can hang out "as friends." Next time we hang out, I'll be paying attention to all the other guys in the bar and not you.

On the other hand…a long distance thing wouldn't work out anyway, so I might be ok with hooking up and being "just friends." Let's see if I find someone better when we're out and then I'll decide whether to go home with you

Don't judge – girls gotta get some,
Dear Being Single,

I feel as though I'm constantly shopping. Must I look at EVERY guy as if they were a clothing item hanging in a store? Seeing if they are just the right size, just the right fashion (flashy enough to keep me interested but classy enough to wear home to the 'rents), and judging whether or not I would be proud to wear them down the street…

If only there were those guaranteed stores, like when shopping for a new purse, where you were bound to find something just right.

But why do I even look? I'm in no position to be buying anything. I don't have the emotional spare cash.

Window shoppin' for now,
M in SF
Dear Passive-Aggressive Boss,

I really don't appreciate you trying to call me out on my fake excuse for why I didn't come into work on Friday, instead opting to go to Vegas with my friends. It is TOTALLY possible that my boyfriend's daughter could get sick and I would be the only one that could take care of her. Is that really that hard to believe? I think not, you perfect-family having prick.

So telling me that "it only really counts when the kid is actually related to you" makes me feel like you are telling me that just because she didn't come out of my vagina, she doesn't count as my child. You damn right, she is my child! I take care of her like she is my child. I provide for her, I protect her. This is kind of protocol for all my close family. I would do the same for my sister, my mother, my father, my boyfriend. That's MY family, regardless of what some legal documents say. I mean, i may not have any serious family of my own yet, but give me a freakin break, you bastard, I'm still young as hell. So sue me that I haven't popped out 2 kids and had a shotgun wedding yet. Believe me, I'm working on it.

So in the meantime, f*ck you Mr. "my wife barely speaks english yet somehow we fell in love and every year she pops out another mixed baby"! I'm pretty sure that fat-a** VP of finance check you pull in definitely helps maintain your in-flux of "irish twins".

And regardless of the validity of my excuse not to come into work, you and "the partners" should learn how to better kiss my ass in this situation. Because honestly, if my little mama were ever really sick and needed me to take care of her, I would drop everything to come to her aid. How's that for a good explanation?

Wondering if Angie and Brad go through this bullsh*t,

Dear Europeans,

Okay, I´ll give you the euro-mullets just because your soccer players who sport them are so f-ing hot..maybe even the euro-techno. But i draw the line at the euro-ratail and the euro-fauxhawk that fades into a mullet which is then dreaded. Most importantly, the following image of a couple I spotted at the Flea market made me 1. really concerned for fleas and 2. not at all surprised. Please stop dissensitizing me to ugliness.

Dear recent life,

I really hope this recent trend of being offered "white powder" at parties is just a freak occurrence and not the new norm.

Saying "HELL NAH!" to drugs,
Dear Life,

I wouldn't have bought Eloise those earrings when we were dating if I knew she was going to turn into such a tramp.

Should have bought an iPod,
Dear Beach-Weekend,

I think I lost a significant amount of brain cells when we went to the beach bar for 7 hours rather than going to the beach...on top of the 900,003 other times we were drinking heavily. This is why I cannot focus and can't pull it together at work this morning. This is also why I am having a difficult time composing sentences that make any sense whatsoever. And maybe it is why when my boss just made a sarcastic comment to me, I looked at him and said "Don't be a jerk."

With the help of all of your memories, get me through this week so I can make more poor life decisions next weekend.

With love,
Dear My Fat Manager,

I fucking hate your fucking fat guts, you really have no idea how much i actually hate you. If you were on fire i would not urinate on you, and it would be one hell of a fire because you are a FAT COW!
Never in my life have i felt like this towards anyone but then again never have i had anyone treat me the way you do. I strongely believe your day is not complete without you scolding me like a 5 yr old child for not putting their toys away, well fuck you i have had enough. When you said to me today "what did i ask you to do an hour ago??, i do not expect to have to ask you to do something twice, when i tell you to do something i want it done" first things first i dont have a problem with you telling me what to do, but i definately have a problem with the way you say it day after day after day after day, with your head stuck so far up your own ass you will only see shit and I am not a piece of shit - which is exactely how you treat me.
You are a single, 28 yr old overweight bitch (260 pounds) who has had sex ONCE, (seriously are you that dumb to tell me something like that because clearly i will put it out there on a blog for alllllll to read) you are also a laughing joke.

Get out of my life.

p.s ohh and by the way when we all went to that new bar for goodbye drinks for my bff from work and i told you to wear those ankle boots instead of those cheap heels it was only because i wanted everyone to see the size of your giant elephant calves and they all did.
Dear weekend conquest,

That was surprisingly good for someone who probably wears the same size as those telethon African orphans with the flies on them.

Eat a cheeseburger,
Dear Life,

I am SOOOOOO over you!!!!!

Thanks. Bye!


PS - Did I mention I'm over the entire male population, as well? All 4 billion of them, and that's a lot!
dear new boy,

you are my favorite. i cannot stop smiling whenever i'm around you. and your random kisses are fucking cute. seriously. i like you a lot. and i love that you feel the same.

Dear stalker,

You just don't give up, do you? I've been as polite as possible, and perhaps a bit rude at times, but you still just don't get it. I don't like a single thing about you, not a single thing, and everything from your face to your horrible spelling skills to the way you text just AGGRAVATES ME like nothing else. We hung out once -- ONCE -- and you barely spoke the whole night. You were a mute and had nothing interesting to say and, frankly, you bored the hell out of me so I went home early. So I don't understand how three hours of hanging out convinced you that "we had a great connection" and we "really, really hit it off." I couldn't disagree more.

But I've told you that I don't think this is a good idea, and since I don't ever pick up your calls, we message over the internet, which means I've got PROOF of everything I've said. I told you that I was busy, and at that point in my life, I barely had time to breathe, let alone deal with your incessant and annoying texts. Then I said that I was sort of seeing someone else and hanging around with you just wasn't going to work. I was short, I never asked questions about you, which I thought showed that I wasn't interested.

Apparently, you either have Alzheimer's or you're just really, really desperate.

I'm not a mean person, and I've never really broken a guy's heart before, but my heart gets broken on a regular basis so I know what it feels like. But I am about one second away from spilling everything and just saying, "You are the most annoying guy I have ever known, and if you BACKED OFF, I'd still talk to you, but please, just leave me alone. Don't message me, don't text me, and PLEASE, don't ask me to hang out."

Clingy guys are so not cool.

Beyond frustrated,
Dear self,

You are such a dumba**. How in the hell do you send a "my boyfriend is so wack" text TO YOUR BOYFRIEND??? you are super fantastically lame, dude. Just die already.

I mean, maybe you should stop doing all your dirty work via the internet and phone. Weren't you the one talkin all that trash about those little Myspace bastards bullying via bulletin messages? Obviously, you yourself are not that good at it, so why don't YOU just stop it, eh?

Word of advice, if you're gonna talk sh*t about someone, wait until you calm down enough so that the red glare of anger does not blind you and cause you to send emails and texts to the persons you are referring to. This advice could totally save your job/ass one day, so take heed.

Anyway, don't get too down on yourself. Here, I have written you this haiku to make you feel better:

At least you have cute
Shoes from Tar-jay. Can you say,
"Giraffe print"? Sooo fierce!

Hope that heals your ass-hole wounds.

Until the next time this happens,
Dear Roommate,

Were you raised by wolves? Because that it the only acceptable excuse for the way you have been acting lately.

1) being extremely rude to every other girl on vacation except for me and then telling me im not being a good friend because i am talking to the other girls is so 4th grade!

2) your personal hygiene has to be the worst I have ever seen in a girl......................take a shower after you run 5 miles. Wash your clothes so that the horrible smell doesnt creep into my room at night, and please try and be A LOT cleaner around your time of the month. Me waking up to the bathroom floor covered in blood is NOT ACCEPTABLE!!!! THATS JUST GROSS!!!

3) Lastly, next time you encounter a 90 year old non-english speaking man who is being tended to by paramedics b/c he is a diabetic and is passing out on the plane, DO NOT lean forward and say the following"

"excuse me, im not comfortable with this, can you get off the plane now"

Seriously, get some manners! You are 25 and I hate to sound like your mom here, but this type of behavior is unacceptable.

Refusing to go on vacation with you again until you grow up,
Dear life,

When I woke up at 6 AM to 10 missed calls from my family members, I knew something was wrong. But I never expected this. Last night, some randoms set my 2001 baby blue Volkswagen Beetle on fire. I've had it forever and I loved it. I had no plans on replacing it. I thought Daisy would die of old age and I'd drive her forever. I mean really- who sets a car on fire? I might understand if I had really pissed someone off or something- but this was 100% random because it happened when a family member took it to Texas which is pretty damn far from Chicago. I don't really know what to think. What is life trying to tell me? I guess it's sweet that I get a new car, but I didn't even want one. I loved Daisy and she smelled like crayons. I hope karma comes to get whoever decided it would be a good laugh to set a beloved car on fire.

RIP Daisy 2001-2008

~LaDiva~ the name comes from Daisy's old license plate :-(
Dear Business Trips,

As much as I love having the company pay for my meals, having a hotel maid make my bed and leave me new shampoos and conditioners, renting a car with abandon ("Underage fee? Yeah whatever, charge it! The company'll reimburse me!"), and having the company pay for the bottles of wine that accompany the aforementioned meals... I really think I might have to lay off of you, because quite frankly, you are making me fat. I mean, normally, I don't buy steaks and oysters rockefeller and crème brûlées (crèmes brûlée? Crèmes brûlées? Or as "new crush" would say, creamy brule?)--- which means that normally, I don't eat 7K worth of calories in a single meal, every night for a week. I can't afford you, monetarily, calorically, or otherwise. But armed with the knowledge that my boss will sign the approval form for a $90 meal? I put things in my mouth like I'm a ten cent screw in Vegas.

Don't get me wrong, I don't want to break up with you permanently. I like the change of pace from the monotony of the gray cubicle, I like multiple trips to BFE, I even like (well... I can tolerate) ten-hour-long meetings about stiffness and lubrication loss (hee!). But I think that I can't fit into my new, hot bikini with anymore of you during the summer months. So if we don't see each other for a while, don't take it personally. Really, it's not you-- it's me.

dear dear life,

i refresh you every day and you haven't changed. is everyone okay? is it my sidekick web browser? what's going onnnn? in any event, i miss you!


ps. A, if you're just really, really busy then its all good. haha.


Dear Person I Have Anonymously Been Stealing Internet From For The Past 6 Months,

Who told you you could move?

Internetly Challenged,
Dear Boy,

It's not that I want you to be my boo. I'm not even going to be living in this town for the entire summer. I know that I'll lose interest in you the moment I start my summer job, and will probably rarely see you once this current job is over. Still, I want you to like me. I want you to want to be my boo because for some reason I want to be yours too. I told myself from the beginning that I could never love you because you were too short. It still holds true, but we have so much fun together that I'd be willing to overlook the fact that you're practically a midget. Alright, that was harsh, but still I'm only 6' and I still feel like I tower over you like the Jolly Green Giant towers over his indentured farmers. Either we need to move this situation up to the next level, like we've been trying, (Two gays, a whole bottle of vodka and a scary movie and we're still too chicken to do anything but cuddle? I mean COME ON) or we need to end it. There are only so many times I can look at your Facebook profile, ok? Which, ps, is totally boring. So can one of us please just man up and do something already? I'm counting my submission to an anonymous blog as my move. The ball is in your court.

Dear Ice Cream Man,

You are totally underrated by the adult population.

Saving my change for you,
M in SF
dear coworker who sits behind me,

is it REALLY necessary to play leona lewis's "bleeding love" on repeat for the entire work day? while i was never really a fan of the song the first 300 times it was played on the DC radio... you have crossed the line. too bad i'm afraid of you... otherwise... i'd have to retaliate with an equally annoying song.

i need headphones- but so do you,
Dear Self

What is wrong with you? Why can you not go for guys who are emotionally available and like you back? Why do you always go for the guys who don't want you? Do you like feeling like this?

It makes it harder to believe that there's nothing wrong with you when it happens over and over again.

Maybe it's time to give up on love?
dear anxiety,

omgomgomg. sooo, "the crush" asked me to go see a movie tonight so if you could find some other plans that'd be cool. because, i'm nervous as balls and hoping this all goes well! okay?! cool! because he's my first "pteryldactyls in my stomach" feeling since the ex. thanks!

you can make me nervous and shitty tomorrow to make up for tonight,

Holy Shit! This is freaky!
Dear Taylor Swift,

I know everyone is all gaa gaa for you, especially after your performance at the Country Music awards, but seriously, I'm not impressed. First of all, who in the hell thought that it was clever for you to sing the first 2 minutes in a hoodie and jeans? As if NO ONE was going to figure out that those dainty little curls you kept tucking back would soon be revealed and that you actually wouldn't spend the entire performance playing Emo. In Avril Lavigne's dreams, i'll bet.

Second, you were flat. And i'm not just talking about your chest and a** either. I'm talking about your voice, singing that lame (read, cliched) song about a cheatin' boyfriend and how he "shoulda sayd Nah". Give me a break! You sounded like you were reading a book report on the Clinton-Lewinski case. Bor-ing! I mean, I know you're supposed to be all "child protege" and what not, but i'm really not intrigued.
It was like watching a jr. high talent show. I say "Boooooo!"

And then, as if watching you wiggle your no-dancing self around your microphone wasn't enough, you had some random dancer guys come out for a whole 3-seconds to rip off your clothes, revealing THE most boring dress I have ever seen in my life (I hope it wasn't Chanel), then turn on the front lawn sprinkler system so you could run through them. And even with you stomping and splashing all over the place, I couldn't help but get the feeling that THIS is what inspires Heidi Montag from The Hills to keep her tone-deaf dreams alive.

So T.S., to make a very long complaint kinda short: you suck. I mean, I know you're only like 15, and that you and Hannah Montana are BFFEs and all, but I'm not diggin your "skills". But I'm sure you've given Hannah's "nude photos" a run for their money!

Never believing the hype EVER AGAIN,

p.s. I suggest nabbing one of those Jonas Brothers to possibly redeem yourself to me. Just a thought.
Dear Boy;

Enough with the witty, very flirtatious banter. Let's do it.