Dear FB Friend,

Now that Christmas is over, and my desire to not make waves during such a time is no longer in the way, I have something to say to you:

You and I know each other. We attended the same church before you moved away, so you know that we share very, very similar beliefs. (I'm not naive enough to state that we have the exact same ( Read more... )

Dear Weather:

It is September 26. October is starting in FOUR DAYS. I should NOT be walking around my house in my underwear because it is too warm and humid to wear anything else. I understand that I live in an area of the world where it's humid during these colder months, but that should be inspiring a sweater, not a striptease ( Read more... )

Self?

For the love of all that's holy you better damn well sleep the enitre night tonight, so help me. No waking up at 4am (3am, pre-DST), NOT going back to sleep, and then being ready to get out of bed by 7:45am, you hear me ( Read more... )

Dear Brain and Dream-Self:

Brain: ...yes, because I really needed to know what passing my hand through someone's chest and squeezing their heart felt like. >:(

Dream-Self: That is the absolute LAST time you volunteer to perform an exorcism. EVER.

>:(

No love whatsoever,

Me.


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Dear Self,

When you return home from church on Sunday, you shall proceed to do the following:

- Write the 'Wan's pormpts for at least September and October
- Tag RP threads.
- Deliever your client's Avon order and drop mags off for the other two.
- work on NaNovel
- Put up Christmas card request post

Margine of love,

Me.


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Dear Megan Fox (and every other celebrity out there, for that matter ( Read more... )

[Pilfered from kikibug13]

Dear booknerdguruI don't really know how to tell you this, but I'm in love with your cat. I decided this when I quoted Forest Gump under the bus and I saw you carve your initials into my father. I'm sure you're cowardly enough to understand that your driving sucks. I'm returning your Hannah Montana underwear to you, but I'll keep my ( Read more... )

Dear Self,

The sooner you finish your mid-term paper, the sooner you can rip the box to shreds and spend hours in Lego-bliss.

No paper, no Lego, no bliss.

End of story.

Love,
Me.


( Read more... )

Dear Parentals,

If you want to guilt trip or blackmail me into doing the dishes every single fucking night of the week based on the precieved notion that I didn't do anything during the day*, then fine. I don't fucking care. I'm pretty much resigned to the fact that that's what's going to happen whenever the subject comes up after dinner ( Read more... )

Obi, Dear, I need you to write these prompts. You told me you would and we agreed that after exams and Christmas we would sit down and do them ( Read more... )