open letters version 3.0
dear boy,
thank you. seriously. i don't want to go into a whole fuckton of detail here, but you are pretty much the best date ever. and i don't know HOW i managed to luck out and meet a boy like you who is not only wonderful, but is ALSO more than slightly fond of ME. clearly, i am living in some kind of alternate universe where up is down and tyra banks is president. although, due to my excessive love of ty-ty, that wouldn't be all bad. the woman is hilarious. but i digress.
also boy, you're beautiful, you don't make fun of my complete inability to do math, you let me pay for dinner without pouting too much, and you don't seem to have a problem with minor PDA. i am totally sold on/smitten with/retarded for you.
please never wear a shirt again in my presence,
stacey
_______________________________________________
dear hat-pony,
.
.
.
.
you are a dirty, crabby bitch. i love you. and i miss you. and i miss slogging around in that mud pit you live in to try and catch your stupid-ass, while you run away. i miss the way you'd get all crabby about being ridden in the cold weather, and all the lame little bucks you'd try. i miss the way you over-jumped little 2-foot fences like they were giant walls. i miss the way that every time i came to see you, you had a new cut to take care of. i miss the way you ate apples, one bite at a time, and made me TURN THE APPLE FOR YOU so that you'd have an easier time of eating it. i miss your big-horse strides and your big-horse butt and the way you hated having your feet washed.
next time - i will bring cookies, and my riding gear,
stacey
_______________________________________________
dear equestrian team girls,
y'all are awesome and i miss you like crazy. you guys were totally my support group in college and it was WONDERFUL to see so many of you again.
.
.
.
hey, remember that one time at the bar? neither do i.
stacey
thank you. seriously. i don't want to go into a whole fuckton of detail here, but you are pretty much the best date ever. and i don't know HOW i managed to luck out and meet a boy like you who is not only wonderful, but is ALSO more than slightly fond of ME. clearly, i am living in some kind of alternate universe where up is down and tyra banks is president. although, due to my excessive love of ty-ty, that wouldn't be all bad. the woman is hilarious. but i digress.
also boy, you're beautiful, you don't make fun of my complete inability to do math, you let me pay for dinner without pouting too much, and you don't seem to have a problem with minor PDA. i am totally sold on/smitten with/retarded for you.
please never wear a shirt again in my presence,
stacey
_______________________________________________
dear hat-pony,
.
.
.
.
you are a dirty, crabby bitch. i love you. and i miss you. and i miss slogging around in that mud pit you live in to try and catch your stupid-ass, while you run away. i miss the way you'd get all crabby about being ridden in the cold weather, and all the lame little bucks you'd try. i miss the way you over-jumped little 2-foot fences like they were giant walls. i miss the way that every time i came to see you, you had a new cut to take care of. i miss the way you ate apples, one bite at a time, and made me TURN THE APPLE FOR YOU so that you'd have an easier time of eating it. i miss your big-horse strides and your big-horse butt and the way you hated having your feet washed.
next time - i will bring cookies, and my riding gear,
stacey
_______________________________________________
dear equestrian team girls,
y'all are awesome and i miss you like crazy. you guys were totally my support group in college and it was WONDERFUL to see so many of you again.
.
.
.
hey, remember that one time at the bar? neither do i.
stacey