Dear Person who was oh so wrong,
Person, you might want to check your facts before you tell everyone and their brother that I'm wrong. Because, actually, you were wrong. And now you look even more stupid. So, you know, congrats.
Dear Girl on the elliptical at the gym,
Listen hon, I want to like you.
Despite the fact that you weigh like three pounds and you are ridiculously cute and you have really pretty hair and never, ever seem to break a sweat even when you are working out like a mo-fo. Seriously. I want to like you.
I would like you a lot more if you didn't TALK THE ENTIRE TIME YOU SEE ME.
Actually, if you want to talk that would be okay. We can talk about politics. The weather. The state of the economy. We can even talk about cheese. I love cheese. Any of these would be okay.
I do not, however, want to talk about:
1) How your heart rate is really high and you aren't even sweating at all.
2) Where your boyfriend is taking you to dinner.
3) How beautiful your boyfriend's eyes are.
4) Your mom and them.
Okay? I don't know you and these things don't interest me. Except the first one, which makes me want to hit you.
Also? There are exactly two ellipticals in the women's only room. One of them has the arms that move. The other doesn't. Please. For the love of God. Do NOT get on the one that has the arms that move and stand there NOT USING THE ARMS. I want to use the arms. Currently when my own arms move fast they make a REALLY HORRIBLE SLAPPING NOISE. I would like to make that stop. Please use the other elliptical.
Dear places that are selling my book,
Please. For the love of God. Stock the book.
Dear Lady who just had eight babies,
Dude. What the crap? I can't keep fourteen plants alive, much less fourteen kids.
I know you like Angelina Jolie and are trying to look like her and be like her and whatever, but she's got a lot more money than you. And probably a lot more money than, say...all the citizens of the state of Virginia put together. Okay? So she can afford such things.
So. Um. Think about that.
Dear My Butt,
Dear This Awful Day,
I'm glad you are almost over.
See ya never,