So…

November 18, 2009 at 1:07 am (in my head, On dating and mating, plays well with others)

sometimes I get drunk and make French Onion Soup. Personally, I think that this will (onedayinthefuturewithMr.RighterThanRight) make me an amazing wife, but if you’d rather think it makes me crazy, then you’re entitled.

(Both might be true.)

Because I can’t seem to put my thoughts into words – in response to Ben’s amazing post, in an attempt to encapsulate my mom’s birthday visit, in the hopes of filling someone, anyone in on where and who and what I’m feeling – I’m going to fall back on the cop out tried and true method of letters I’ll never send.

————–

Dear Kobo,

Seriously?! With the great-smelling candles that only burn in the center and leave unused wax on the sides?! I love you AND I hate you. Fix it.

Annoyed,

BS

————-

Dear Dude Who Signed an Email with His Initials,

I would LOVE to be your dance partner. Your date? Not so sure. I’m kind of over you already…but I’ll see you Sunday afternoon.

At least you’re not another 25-year-old,

BS

————-

Dear Downstairs Neighbor,

You are an effing chimney and it’s gross. Seriously, WHO SMOKES ANYMORE? It doesn’t come through my walls, but every once in a while – you know, between 6 and 10 am or 8 and 11 pm – I’d like to be able to use the air shaft to vent my bathroom after a shower. My lord, at least smoke something tolerable like weed.

Not even going to be polite about it anymore,

BS

————

Dear Upstairs Neighbor,

On Friday, when I came home sober from dinner with my mom and you came home wasted leaning on two friends, you made my night when you walked past my door and I heard you say, “A hot girl lives there.”

I now forgive you for parking in my garage space that one time,

BS

————

Dear Nordstrom Bra Fitting Lady,

I love you for the new Chantelle (on sale!) you found for me, but I hate you for deciding that I should go down a band size and up a cup size.

My gazongas love the bra but the flat-chested dancer in my head hates the tag. Really hates it.

Bodaciously yours,

BS

———–

Dear trochanteric bursitis,

My hip says fuck off. I WILL be dancing on Saturday.

The bottle of ibuprofen is coming for you,

BS

———–

Dear Denver/Portland/Palm Beach/St. Helena/Boston/Seattle/Calistoga,

I’ll see you in the next nine months.

Enjoy my travel budget,

BS

———-

Dear Head Injury,

I didn’t need to know that you’re on Facebook. Please go back to the recesses of my memory.

With nostalgia,

BS

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10 Comments

  1. amber said,

    Hee. I love the one to bursitis and then about a “hot girl lives there”.

    • BS said,

      Yes, I am old. But in reality it’s trying to get hot (i.e. dancing 8 hours/week) that caused the bursitis.

  2. SoMi's Nilsa said,

    Last night while I was running on the treadmill at the gym, a heavy smoker got on the treadmill next to me. She hadn’t even started any activity and I could barely breathe. I coughed. Loudly. She looked at me. I shook my head. Sped up. Finished my run. And got the eff out of there. I think smokers should be shot.

    • BS said,

      It should be a gym rule that you can’t smell like smoke and come work out. It’s as rude as not wiping down the machine.

  3. MJ said,

    When I went o Nordstroms for a fitting, the lady put me in a freakin’ 34DD. She took one look at my ladies in their 34 D and said, “you have spillage.” I’m not sure when I became a curvy woman. I was always a skinny-mini. Now I’ve got more tits and ass than I know what to do with. Poor me, right.

    My old roommate and I had a saying, “And that’s why we don’t cook drunk.” She would often start cooking and pass out. We would wake up to a house full of smoke and repeat the motto. She hasn’t burned alive, so I think she’s taking the advice now. Anyway, be careful!

    • BS said,

      I’ve never been a skinny-mini (well, not since 5th grade), but I was happy where I was. I’ve spent well over a decade trying to accept my boobage and the new size isn’t helping.

      I’ve never had enough to drink to make me pass out, but I appreciate the warning! “Drunk” in this case meant two glasses of wine…though I did set off the smoke detector.

  4. Bridget said,

    Chablis, Pinot Grigio, or White Bordeaux?

    By the way, if I were you, I would be living off the “hot girl” comment. He IS hot and, well, wow, what an ego boost! (I wouldn’t let his drunken state hinder your opinion either.)

    • BS said,

      Acccctually, I was drinking the leftover Turley Zin from my mom’s birthday dinner. I can’t even remember what I bought to put in the soup.

  5. Jess said,

    Denver?! When will this be?!

    • BS said,

      Yes! Denver December 19-22. Will you be around?

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