My best friend, A, and I do this thing where we compose pretend letters out loud to people. And places. And things. And yes, a lot of these letters will never be read by their rightful owner, largely in part because the rightful owner probably cannot read. However, while all of these notes don't always go to humans with literacy abilities, this proves to be a great way to get our frustrations out time and time again. Not only is it a fun, different way to blog about our lives, but it's a nice change to actually be able to write these down rather than blurt them out in the middle of Neiman Marcus.
See you in one week! Remember that time we were in Sarasota and Crazy Nana tried to lend you an Ultrasuede jacket? Well, she has a Bob Mackie gown too. You better watch out.
It has feathers,
Dear Person Who Owes me Banana Bread,
I wish I knew who you were. All I know is that several weeks ago, someone told me that they were going to give me chocolate chip banana bread. MY FAVORITE. I forgot about it and was reminded while waiting in line to pay at Associated. My facial expression went from non-existent to horrified when I heard someone at the check-out counter next to me talk about how they just baked banana bread. The only reason I know it wasn't my mom is because she doesn't put chocolate chips in her banana bread.
This letter would be easier to write if I remembered who actually promised me this alleged baked good. No wonder I've been looking like less of a chunkster lately. No, it's not because I've been making healthier choices or going to spin class. It's because I haven't been devouring whole loaves of chocolate chip banana bread!
I will find you,
Let's be honest. I don't like gyms. I think they are hot-beds for germs. They are dirty and smelly. Changing in the locker room is like being at Loehmann's - basically, a lot of naked people I do NOT want to see - except you can't shop! Being that you are the second gym I have belonged to since living here, I have something to compare you to. You have much room for improvement, my friend. You're missing a snack bar and a towel attendant, for starters. However, props to your spin instructors. If every spin class had DMB as the background music, I'd be a very happy girl. And a size zero.
I miss Crunch,
Dear Mad River Bar & Grill,
Thank you for entering me in contests that I really never even knew about and probably never meant to enter. I am never quite coherent when I visit you and I have a feeling that tonight will be no different. I also have a feeling I'll be writing you another letter in next week's installment.
Dear Izabella St. James,
Because of your book, I will never, EVER, be able to watch The Girls Next Door the same way again. Ever.
I still love KDub,
Dear Chris and Pressler, if those are in fact your names,
Keep up the good work,
Dear Other Shoe,
When are you going to drop?
Are you still laughing?
I know I am,