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dear letter writing busties:

each and every one of you is amazing. i read these letters and am consistently speechless at what you have all been through and come out of stronger and even more amazing.

you may never send any of these letters, but believe me, there are people out here reading!



dear ASSHAT SUPER-EGO of the lovely princess dander:

go find tes' asshat super ego and shut yourselves in a room and kill each other off, okay??


(((((princess dander))))) thank you darling. i wish i was your mom, too.

love, hugs and much snuggling and brushing of hair,

dear apartment -
i love you, but i feel the need to get rid of you, purge myself of most of my stuff, and figure out where i want to be, for awhile. I've been planning on doing it for awhile, but now that the reality is getting close, it's getting a bit scary.

it will be fine

dear m -

where did you just drift off to? Well, I still plan on seeing what you're up to when I get done with this project. I'm still curious. I don't wanna leave your stone unturned. You're nice and I want to check it out.


dear boy -

please call back. I'm trying to give you the space you need but I soooo want to talk to you and stay somehow connected.

dear c.

i've been thinking about you a lot lately. it's been two months and one week now. i can't quite bring myself to watch the videos yet, but yesterday i looked some of the pictures. you were happy. i miss you so much.

mercy! Uncle!

whatever magic mojo words I need to say, please, for the love of peter, Stop Hurting now.
I've taken you to the teeth dr, 2 of them now, and we're working on it. it's a Process.
you heard to good dr's tell us that it's nothing *I* did to you that caused the damage, it just is how it is.
so.... rest now ey? don't make me need to take anymore bad drugs bc the percocet isn't the fun happiness that it was before, now it's just like speed and I don't like it. let's have a motrin kinda afternoon shall we?
Dear self,

Let's have a self-indulgent moment, mmkay? You really need to stop the obsessive navel-gazing and just get out and do something. I know you have long adjustment periods whenever anything changes, but it's about time to get off your ass, yes? (The ass that has gained 20 freaking pounds over the last year - what the hell? I'm calling 10 of it "relationship weight" and the other 10 "too much weed" weight. Both must begone!)

So, here's the dilly-o. You are sitting on top of the fucking jackpot, you know that? What the hell is wrong with you that you must sabotage yourself at every turn, every opportunity that looks like it might pan-out. You turn and you run. Why? For the love of all that is good and green in the world, could you maybe ease up on yourself a bit?

The perfectionism is really becoming a problem, you know? Perhaps you should just accept the facts that: 1. You are NOT PERFECT. 2. You will make many many mistakes. 3. Mr.Luci loves you just the way you are and only wants you to be happy. His love is unconditional. 4. You are only hurting yourself now and you are not so ill that you enjoy this.

I know it's the lack of structure that's doing you in. I know it. If you had outside deadlines you'd at least have some direction, yes? Welcome to Grown-Up Land. Take care of it yourself.

Stop being so afraid. Why is that? When did this scared person inhabiting your body appear and how fast can we ditch her? She's so annoying. Remember Italy? And auditions? And recitals? Remember performing and how terrifying it was, but you still managed it, survived and thrived? What about exams and presentations and the performance that went with work? You managed all that just fine. Remember having goals and working really hard and enjoying the struggle as much as the result? It was too easy before and you didn't appreciate it.

Well, time to get back to all that. And you're not too old, for god's sake. You really need to stop being so down on yourself. You're 24. Whoop-di-freaking-do. Stop comparing yourself to everyone and paralysing your brain. And please, try to be nicer to your brain and body. Take those classes you've been researching and remember that everyone else is too hyper-focused on themselves to notice you. And if they do, who the hell cares? You only get one life, right? Stop worrying yours away.

Much love and hope,
dear b,

you are great. i hope i don't screw up (or, more honestly, i hope i don't freak out and start sucking)

dear m,

holy crap. your letters make me want to get on the next plane/bus/train whatever and run to you. you are the perfect lover and a wonderful man. but you are far away and wrong for all the reasons we tortured ourselves with this summer.
but don't stop. knowing you are there and thinking of me makes the edges less sharp.

dear self,

could you please just knuckle down and write the papers already? it's not that hard, and it would improve your quality of life and your sanity. what's stopping you, lady?
the holiday will arrive regardless of whether you want it to or whether you're ready.

dear teacher,

class is over tomorrow and i cannot. fucking. wait.

you just had to go overkill on the assignments, though, didn't you? not only did we just have that massive ass paper due, but you just had to assign another one last week, plus readings and a final this week. have you lost your damn mind?

walking out of class for the last time tomorrow will be the single greatest moment of this semester. i'll be amazed if i don't have a nervous breakdown before then.

-your ornery/frustrated/exhausted student.
dear fate, karma, coincidence, whatever force it is that takes things full circle back to where they were yet entirely different,

this is going to be amusing, suprising, and enjoyable, right? funny randomness like this does not go well with disappointment. i'm no longer fourteen. wineglasses and walls no more.

you hear?

dear gods and goddesses,
please give me a sign.
or direction.
or help.
or motivation.
for that matter.

i have a deadline
a sign-on-the-dotted-line-
and i don't know what to do.



dear boy -

i miss you so much. i really want to visit. I really want to spend time with you. Please don't punish me for the past. I did the best I could at the time. Now is now. I just want to feel your arms around me and have everything be better. Won't you just try?

i love you
Dear S.

Well then, isn't that nice that you can tell me what I heard from someone else to my face. But no, instead you just avoid my texts, and e-mails. Look, I am a grown woman, you clearly haven't come out of the adolescent phase, (and to think, I thought you were different!), and seem to think that I worship the ground you fucking walk on. Please, if you really think that, then you are a moron. If on the other hand, you are just too nice to let me know, then you really need to get your head screwed on right, simply because I get HUGELY offended if someone doesn't tell me something, I can be honest when the time is right (look I know that with somethings I'll walk away without an explaination, but I thought we were bigger then that), why the hell can't you? Maybe we should just write this whole thing off. Stop being such a prat. LookI'll admit that I was starting to develop feelings for you, however, I stepped back because I knew where it would lead, but then this whole mess comes up and you couldn't tell me.


Dear P.

Could you just fucking call me already? How long do you need?


Dear K.

You rock! You are an awesome fantastic amazing person, and I am so glad that we are friends, I am glad that I can tell you everything, and it not be weird at all, and how you will listen and such. It sucks that we don't work in the same office anymore. You are right about a lot of shit, and once I think about what you tell me, I realize that it is true. I know, you will always tell me that if I only listened, but I do, then I think about it and apply it. I can't just taked anyone's word for it, you know how I am. Thanks for being there.


Dear Self,

You are worse than a man when it comes to being honest about romantic feelings you have for someone. What's the deal, why can't you tell someone, whom you are mildly close to, that you have feelings for them. But nooooooooooooooooooooooooo you just walk away instead of saying "hey this is how I feel". You would rather walk away then deal with it. Aha, nothing more than running away from your problems huh? Well, what if something good could happen? +
Well, you ask yourself, what if deep down he is laughing at me, to tell me the honest truth, I don't want to lay it on the line, I am a risk taker, however, when it comes to being emptionally vulnerable, FUCK IT! why bother going through it? Instead you could just bury things deep inside, then exercise and its GONE! AHA! See, well it's actually the eternal optimist inside me, I always think that something could happen, but nope. paradox for sure, that is what I truly am.

Love ME!
Dear weather gods,

In a little more than a week, my sweetheart will be striking out on a long drive. During his trip, he will be driving over a mountain range. Now, my sweetie is not the most experienced driver in the world. He hasn't had many chances to drive in wintery weather. And he has never driven in the mountains in wintery weather. So would you be so kind as to keep the weather nice and clear and happy while he is traveling? Because all these stories of people getting lost in snow storms is scaring the bejeezus out of me & I just want my husband to be safe.

Thanks for your consideration,
Dear letter writing BUSTies,
I agree with what Tes said. I am sending out huge hugs for all of you (((((BUSTies)))))

Dear Tes,

Most Despised AHK,

Thank you. Thanks for being the man, manchild I knew you'd be. You turn 40 tomorrow and yet, you still can't stop with the childish games. Pathetic, really. I was polite, direct and even pleasant, though I have every right not to be. But you were obnoxious and as patronizing as ever. And your not answering is your way of trying to maintain some semblance of "control", which you so desperately need. Well guess what bucko? You aren't in control of shit. My life still goes on, whether or not I get that stuff back in irrelevant. Waiting until after the holiday to reply or return my stuff is doing nothing to affect our festivities. My house is all decorated, I've got the fattest tree crowding my dining room and it's completely decorated. As much as I would like those things back, they can be replaced. The family fudge recipe? Yep, I tracked it down. Decorations? My family brought some over. Though there is nothing *I* can do about the family photos. But hey, you've got Karma to take that up with. And three very strong spirits who live on the otherside who would really like to see the photos of them returned to their rightful owner. Oh yeah, and my mom, grandma and aunt never *really* cared for you, so I am sure if they are able to mess with you at all, they will. And calling my grandmother out of her name, you know that little slight of disrespect you snuck in your email? I'm sure none of them were impressed. So who knows, maybe you will find yourself wanting to return those pictures after all. I will gladly return the few things of yours that you would like, when you are man enough to stop playing your little power games and return my things.

Ever Not So Fondly,

P.S. For you, Birthday Wishes. May you get *everything* you deserve.

(((yuefie))) you are so much better than that asshat, but then you know that chica. He is a toad and he *will* get splatted (no offence to toads).

(((rose))) *~*~*~*safe driving in snow vibes for sheff~*~*~*~

dear Christmas list,

why are you so difficult to write?

me x
i know this is kind of self-indulgent so forgive me...

dearest chinese video store:

i miss you more than you will ever know. it's only been a week, but i know you're never coming back. and it hurts. there is this emptiness....i really don't understand why you feel the need to leave me. i know i only saw you when i had money, and i did take advantage of you occasionally, but i really did love you. where else could i go to discover new films from korea? you know how much i love korean, hong kong and chinese films? you were always there for me.

i saw so many movies thanks to you. yeah, i could go two doors down to the korean dvd/model/tuner store, but i loved your disogranized video tapes everywhere, like a crazy packrat aunt, who couldn't let anything go. i could tell you loved me, yeah, i know the lady who ran you, thought i was odd, this 6' tall black tranny who lives in chinatown always asking, "does this have english subtitles?" but you never charged me more than $3 a movie for a week, and you never asked me for id or if i wanted to open an account or anything. i had infernal affairs for close to a month, and you never said a word. you knew i just love movies...

i felt kind of weird when you started getting dvds, but i knew that with a little googling and hacking i could convert my dvd machine to region zero, no problem. and i found a chinese tall tale, and watched it twice, soo fun! i never would have rented or even found that had it not been for you and your beautiful disorganization. i always told my neigbors about you, but they like american movies, or live music. and well, i am filmicly obsessed. we both know that.

last time i saw you, i saw so many movies i wanted to rent-- ones that i'd never heard of, which is saying something. i keep my ear to the ground when it comes to asian movies, but you always had a trick up your sleeve. and you were awful sweet. you never really said anything about closing for good, last time i saw you. instead, you made sure that our relationship went out on a high note-- teasing me with one of my favorite movies of all time, "barking dogs never bite" on dvd, god, i was so ready to buy that with my last 20 dollars. i'd been looking everywhere for it, but it's not available in the states. and of course, even your copy was without english subtitles. but as consolation, you gave me the next best thing: a movie that i would love, sympathy for lady vengance. so bittersweet, funny, shocking and sad. kind of like our relationship.

i wish you had told me you were going. i would have paid you more attention. i would have loved you a little more. now there is just longing, and i miss you.

i know i am a dork for loving a video store so much, but you were my little secret, my little reward for going out of my comfort zone, walking into a hole in the wall store, and asking questions. you were my little jewel. right there, blocks from my apartment. one of my favorite places. you weren't just one of the best things about my 'hood, which is becoming more gentrified every month, you were one of the best things about this damn city.

i had a suprize for you too, i had been getting cds on how to speak and understand cantonese so i wouldn't need english subtitles anymore. yeah, i'm learning cantonese! you made me want to be better, to learn. and i will miss you more than you will know.

so imagine, to be running errands and to see a u haul being loaded up and your interior being dismantled. my day, which seemed to be so good suddenly seemed wrong, sick, and wierd. i walked in and asked a guy i'd never seen before what was going on. he told me you were moving to a suburb 11 miles!?

i felt like i was watching a lover walk away for the last time. you were mine. i think of all the movies i'll never see, or introduce to friends cos you're not around and it makes me want to cry. you suck. i love you. i want you back. i miss you more than you'll ever know....

-no no

I know well the heartache you are experiencing.
when I lived in Panama, I frequented the Dairy Queen 3 doors down on my block;
it was a little slice of Americana Bliss in the heart of the Canal Zone there in Central America.
now as it was a spanish/whatever-speaking country, and I spoke english/french (sort of), there were only a few things I could fathom a guess enough even to attempt to order, but each time I would patiently get in the line w/ the youngest looking clerk (having presumably most recently had English classes in school) and do the best I could. they were always cold to me though (no pun intended). they didn't welcome American's there but I didn't care. it was one of the few places I felt safe to go alone initally, and ohhhh Ice Cream.. and in the intentse humidity and heat..I went there probably 2 or 3 times a week.
persistent little pasty white girl w/ short blond hair fumbling desperately but Determinedly through my spanish/english dictionary, day in, day out.

but then one day they were closed.
just like that. Closed.
we didn't understand.
- how could they do that to us?
we who had so faithfully attended them would turn their backs on us like that.

seems all those paper fliers that we'd assumed were announcing concerts or something like we'd see in the States, had been broadcasting their demise, to be torn down for a bigger and better skyscraper.
such is the way in a place where Space is such a premium.

so girltrouble, I feel your pain and I am sorry for your loss.
I love that you were learning cantonese, that is such a beautiful thing.

I hope you always carry your wonderful memories close in your heart.



((((((((yuefie))))))))) (((((((((rosev'smr for safe driving)))))) (((((((((((culturehandy))))))))
(((((((((crazycat))))))))))))) ((((((((((((all other letter writin' busties)))))))))))))))

no, I don't think it's ok for our girls to get together again.

after ALL you put me through, are you freaking NUTS?!
but wait, in light of what you told me yesterday, that might be a part of it, a part I do not care nor intend to get involved with again, let alone drag my girlchild into your insanity along with me. NO. not her. not again.
you forget how much she too suffered when you acted as you did, and you don't even seem sorry for that. (ugh.)

I don't know where we stand right now.. we're emailing... that is all I can offer you safely, bc my own sanity is much too precious to get caught up in any of the past-like behaviour. sometimes it is tempting to revert back.. we had so many off the charts crazi adventures, I still mourn for the loss of that but know what's past is there for a reason. I have the scars on my heart to remind me.

that said, I will take a page from your book and Ignore that you wrote that.
it's all I can do.

I know you understand..

Dear Busties!

You are all amazing! Never forget this! I go through bust withdrawl when I can't check out the boards. Have a fantastic day all!


Dear next semester,

Fisrt of all please let me to be able to afford you. And please let me learn something for fuck's sake. I can't tell you how depressed I have been in the last few weeks with all the bullshit I have put up with. I have had teachers who have left mid-semester leaving me in incompletes when I had worked so hard. I have had instructors who could not care less about what they are teching and would rather talk about themselves and give stupid open book, multiple choice tests. How can anyone learn from this? I know from almost everyone who has been where I am that this is supposed to be normal or part of all the jumping through hoops I am supposed to do in order to get through my undergrad, but this is so stupid I can barly understand why I even get up in the morning anymore. Please, I beg you, be nice to me and give me people who give a fuck and something interesting to study. I think this semseter has made be stupider. I could feel my brain cells dying by the gross sitting in class and listening to my psych instructor bash her clients and then ask for vegertarian recipes.


Dear Grammar Nazis,

Please don't read my above letter, which addresses my frustrations with my education and copyedit it. I know I leave much to be desired with my spelling and grammar, so please don't snicker at me when I make a mistake when typing with passionate rage.


Dear PC people,

Please don't be offended by my use of the word "nazi". I know the implication of the word and I know that it offends, but I couldn't think of another word to use and have been using it for years and I like it. Also, I believe in freedom of speech, even if I risk offending someone with it. I'm very nice and don't wish to offend, but sometimes it happens. Sorry.
With love,

Dear half life of caffine,

Please come around sometime soon. I can't stand all of this shaking and I can't stop writing letters.

Love, love, love
dear whomever,

you know, i can deal with being "officially" diagnosed with general anxiety disorder and depression. it's no big shock. but this "shift" in me is rather hard to take. can you at least give me back my courage to drive? because having to cancel a therapy appt - an hour beforehand, how goddamned rude is THAT? - because i'm too shaky to get behind the wheel is far too bitterly ironic and just plain unfair. i'm trying to fix this. i'm trying to fix me. i know i put it off too long, which is probably why i'm going all keblewey all of a sudden. the center cannot hold and all that jazz.

then again, it's not my fault that i woke up after a nightmare at 4 am and couldn't get back to sleep because the OL' brain went into highgear because i'm upset and yes, anxious and depressed about my miracle pill taking its sweetass time to kick in, and hey maybe it never will, and i'll get to ride on that special guinea-pig meds merry-go-round that has plagued so many people i love. and again, it's not really my fault that there was a logical and physical reason i wasn't up to driving in city traffic, especially when school was letting out for the day (and let's not forget the whirling-dervish christmas-frenzied drivers in their gigantor SUVs barreling all over the place). i made it thru the whole day at work, specifically to make my appt. i had every good intention.

but next time, please throw me a bone and let me actually make it to my therapist at least?

oh, and if you can let her agree to my submitting her bills so i can get a few pennies back, while simultaneously agreeing to lower her fee, that would be super excellent too! because i thought the money wouldn't weigh on me. it is.


dear therapist,

i'm so sorry i canceled so late. i should've called you this morning to give you a heads up. please don't pigeon-hole me as a rude loon?


dear doctor,

please don't roll your eyes at the email i just sent you? believe it or not, i pared it down. but i just need some medical guidance, i truly do. and i can't deal with calling your office and giving a lameass message to some cold receptionist. your group offers non-urgent email for a reason. and yeah, i know this is the second email i've sent you in two weeks. but there are very legit reasons behind them. please don't think i'm a loon? please help me with this medicinal shit? i'm trying to get a handle on all of this new information, but it's overwhelming and more than a little scary.


Dear Universe,

Please ease my daddy's pain. It concerns me greatly that super strength pain meds are doing little to diminish the agony he is in. Please let him get through this surgery okay, and allow me the flexibility to be able to be at the hospital with him. Pretty please.


Dear Doctors,

Please take good care of my daddy. I know that after the surgery he will go to a rehabilitation center for a while to recover, but please don't release him back to where he is afterwards. Please, please, please request that he be assigned a social worker who will assist me in finding a better place for him, preferably somewhere out near me so I can spend more time with him. And please, give me some real, clear cut answers about his prognosis. I would like the kidney failure thing explained to me, and to know why his seizures are so out of control no matter how much or how many meds he takes. I know you are not perfect and don't have all the answers but a bit of decorum would be greatly appreciated. I know he is not in good health, I know he is not young, I know. But that does not mean he does not deserve the same care you give to other people. I don't want to be snappish to you, I just want to know what's going on. I am beyond frustrated and feeling so disillusioned when it comes to your profession, so please speak to me with an ounce of respect as if I am your own sister and mind your bedside manners.

the nervous redheaded daughter of your patient with the broken hip

Dear Bossman,

I can't tell you how happy I am that we're starting to talk about my promotion, but please, I beg you, I hope that my hours don't get really shitty in the process. I hope that we're able to come to some sort of compromise and that you don't schedule me for the worst possible craptastic hours I'm imagining you're going to want me to work because that's when you need me.

I hate that I'm at a point in my life where I crave "normal" hours, yet I realize it's probably a long shot that I'm going to get this at your company. Please prove me wrong. Everyone knows I'm at my sharpest in the morning. I really want us to make this work, but I really want to still have a life outside of work as well. I don't know if the two are mutually exclusive with this line of work. Time will tell?

Yours truly,

Old Fart RG with the Regimented Schedule Who Still Likes to Have Some Fun in the Evenings
((yuefie & dad))

(I don't have enough to say for a Kvetch post, so I'll give you hugs in here.)
Dear Joshua,
i hope this job training goes quickly so that we can hang out again. i miss your optimism and silliness. when i am with you i am always happy.
With Love,
(((((((((yuefie & dad)))))))))

raisingirl- I hope you get that promotion And decent hours too!

bc I Know you'll forget :
the mr's xmas presents are hidden in the wicker basket right inside the b'room door!
reciepts are in the bag too!
elfish me

I handwrote you a combined list of what I spent today and tho I know you will see where they are from on the ele banking later, hopefully at least a few days from now, Don't Snoop and Don't Ask!
it's almost impossible to keep things like this from you w/ this sort of banking- have I mentioned yet I don't like it and miss the old ways?
please like what I got you bunches too bc no, it's not what I originally planned, but I think it shows a lot of thought and consideration all the same. and if not, things can be returned.
oh, and please, by the nature of the items, don't think I am pushing you out the door either.. I was being Practical!!!
love always,

not being able to tell sucks royal rotten smelly eggs,
but this too can be adjusted to ey?
not going to get the best of me, even when tears threaten in the midst of holiday shopping!
ha Ha!
Hey, Edith. How's it goin'? I've been meaning to write you for a while. Welcome back to the family and everything. Excuse me if I don't take to calling you Gramma Edie right away. After all, I'm 37 years old now and having just met you for the first time two years ago it comes off just a teensy bit contrived to address you like you're actually the kindly matriarchal figure you'd like to graft yourself into my life as. Hope I don't come off as bitter or anything. I mean, you did have other things going on and, well... you lived three and a half hours away for my entire life. It isn't like visiting any of us once or checking in to see what the fuck your grandchildren looked like or even picking up a telephone for five minutes on one of our birthdays was a reasonable thing to ask. Petty of my mom, don't you think, to have cried so much over it and to have kept trying, like some boring tedious idiot, to contact you over the years. You know, your ex-husband at least had the courtesy of calling us to let us know he was going to be driving through our city before he literally drove through our city - without stopping by. You guys were so much alike. Amazing, really, that you divorced. Anyway, so now here you are, sitting amongst us all at our gatherings acting as though you'd always been there, casually inserting yourself into our conversations without any sense of irony. No apology. No explanation. No remorse. No indication you have any idea of what three decades of a mother's neglect will do. Not one single word about any of it. But let us not bicker about trivialities such as personal responsibility for your actions. We have important matters to address like who will cart your ass around the city. Still, I wonder why you came back? After all those years of defiant apathy - why now? My first guess is that it's because you're old and weak, near the end of your life with no one else left to take an interest in you. I'm right, I bet, huh? It's okay. You can tell me. I know no one will come out and confront you about it (something you're desperately counting on) but just between us you can tell me. My mom won't say anything about it as she drives you all over the fucking place because she's confoundingly grateful for the opportunity to connect with you before you die. My dad won't say anything to you because he's happy for my mom. My sister doesn't give a shit enough about you to say anything about it and I guess I just don't want to have the title of Family Douchebag laid on me now that you've finally relinquished it. So anyway. Welcome back, I guess. Enjoy your final days here. Don't get pissed though if you never become Gramma Edie. You sorta blew that about, oh, 30 years ago and if nothing else at least know that I may not confront you over this but I at least won't bullshit you either, Edith.

it's ok of you don't write back, ever again.

I know what I wrote to you about the girls probably hurt you, and in a way, it wasn't my intention, but yet, for you to really understand my reasons for saying No to them getting together, you needed to read the printed words. I KNOW you KNOW why. but that you'd make it so Genteel and Fake and Phoney to your girl, taking absolutely NO blame or responsibility for things whatsoever-- is that still how you choose to live in your head? to believe? bc it is Easier?!

I didn't have that option way back when. we just had to mangle through it best we could, not understanding your craziness and what was happening.

it's ok now.
it's Over.
but don't think I'm still innocent enough to get sucked back in to your distorted world where crazy is disguised as enchantment. so fast like quicksand we sink and I wont- go- back.

I'm sorry if you are getting ill again, and maybe telling me was your way of asking for help, but I can't.
some things are just too far gone and that is where I have placed myself; even in these weeks of corresponding, I kept myself back from you. that you would/wouldn't notice and still reach out is all the sadder.

this does still hurt, but only inasmuch as I allow it,

dear Miss Whiney McWhinepants,

you're life is not that terrible.

why can't you ever even try to be optimistic?

the only person victimizing you is yourself.

the only reason i'm not saying this stuff to your face is that i don't think you'd know what to do if i did. besides the fact that i'm not actually that cold, although i know you'd like to believe otherwise. what i wish you'd learn is that honesty is brutal, but it isn't cruel. and if you can't handle that then you can't handle me, take me or leave me, but don't try to live me in a lie.

Miss Too Straightforwardforherowngood.
Dear C,
Why did you have to tell K to tell me that? (how 8th grade does that sound...) Lovely for the ego boost and all, but I'm having Thoughts about you now and half-dreading February.
Dear Self,

Well, you did it. You've officially gained back all thirty of the pounds you lost a couple years ago. Yeah, it took a couple years but it's back!

And the bad part is, it doesn't seem so unacceptable to you this time. You don't have the motivation to get rid of the weight this time.

Do you really love beer that much that you won't give it up, perhaps permanently? Or is it that you can't give it up?

Seriously, it's a beverage. Why let it control your life the way it does? Why let it make you gain thirty pounds?

Because it's so damn seductive, that's why?

And you better not start smoking again!
Dear uncle,

Well. This is like, beyond awkward. FYI - we already got married, this "wedding" is really just a dinner party plus some silly vows, probably said at the restaurant. I would hate for my great-aunt to make that trip only for a dinner party, especially if she's expecting a WEDDING wedding...

Okay, shit. Why did you do that? Seriously? I put up with a lot of shit from you and that whole side of the family, but inviting a woman whom I could not pick out of a line-up of old ladies to my wedding...that's low. And I can't say no, because now my mom is all into it. So this means I get to cut yet another of my friends out. You know, I really miss my friends. I know that YOU don't have any, but shit, man. We wanted something small, because we're thrifty and live in a very expensive city, but still wanted the important people there. Mistakenly, I included you in that group, in deference to my mother.

This sounds really awful, but you better not sell that cabin before you die. I think bro and I have earned it with our lifetime of putting up with you and grandma.

I know, I know. You're socially awkward, emotionally stunted due to uber NPD mommy, just generally an unpleasant man. I know. It's just - you've spent most of the time we've spent together either ignoring me or tearing me down with Grandma. And now I'm going to spend part of my speshuuuuul daaaaay rolleyes.gif remembering that you invited someone to MY wedding.

Okay. I'm going off on a tear here. Best to settle down.

I won't care by next week, I know, but now I'm pissed. And now I'm thisclose to canceling the whole fucking thing.

-your angry niece
dear m -

i'm not very good at knowing what is too much to say, specially about heated topics. but what i wrote is what i think and feel - my truth. it's me. i just kinda say what i think and sometimes it's a bit much for people, but oh well. i guess what is making me feel a little uncomfortable is that i opened myself up a little and pushed the envelope of what i'm willing to reveal about myself. Took a little bit of a leap and i'm not sure how appropriate it is cause I'm kind of socially retarded like that - I have this habit of letting people in way too soon, and I have my radar up for that these days. But whatever. It's me. Deal with it or don't. Personally, I think it would be pretty dumb not to.


dear boy -

i miss you

Beauty & her Bass
Dear Sir that hit my car yesterday:

I did not appreciate you flying down W. 25th yesterday. I know that I did pull out of the side street in front of your moving vehicle, however, you never even hit your breaks and you were going quite a bit faster than the 25 mph speed limit. Now, thanks to your ignorance (and possible drunken-ness) I have a citation and a smashed up car in my driveway. I am not sorry your chest hurts. You should have worn a seat belt then! I honestly hope that you were drinking that day; not because I want you to pay for smashing my car, but rather so that I can help to take another one of you people off the road before another innocent life is taken thanks to a few beers at the bar. People like you make it very difficult to be compassionate towards my fellow man. I am sorry that the accident happened. I honestly did not see your car. I just wish that instead of trying to speed to where-ever you were going and swerving to miss me, you may have instead hit your breaks or slowed down your driving a bit. Now neither of us have a very merry Christmas and I have a car full of toys for my poor clients that "Santa" won't be bringing. I hope that whatever you were speeding for was worth it.

My regards,
Dear C,

I don't understand why you're so wonderful. Thank you. You sit there smiling beatifically as I tell you things that would make anyone else in your position very uncomfortable. You encourage me to open up. You want to talk about the relationship taboos: the things that most people train themselves to never ever discuss with their significant other, or anyone. But you want more than that for us. You don't like how I've always been closed off and you wanted to know why. Now you know, and instead of backing away like I always thought you would, you moved closer. Thank you for that. Thank you for not wanting to change me. Thank you for being wise enough to not feel threatened.

yay! (((kayte)))


why do you do this? i know you think you mean well sending me a xmas care package. but that's not the case is it? i don't want packages i don't want letters, i don't want calls. i don't want anything from you. least of all communication. i don't want you to call, i don't want you to write. i just don't want you. in the same way you don't want me, but more honestly. you only think about me when it's easy. convenient. i tried to reach out to you, to let you into my life. but instead you worried about what everyone would say at church. you chose religion over your child. you chose to make me the 300 lb elephant in your room, and far as i'm concerned, this elephant has left the nest. i gave you a chance. i came out seven + years ago to you, and you still can't even call me by my legal name. i'll bet you don't even remember it. do you know how that makes me feel? oh, yeah i guess you do, cos i told you i don't know how many times. but you don't care. instead you hold on to the past, deliberately, selfishly calling me "your very own son." news flash. your son is gone. he will never come back. there's only me with a growing disgust with you. everytime you pull this shit i resent you more. cos now i see it for what it is. a selfish means for you to aleviate your guilt at my expense. and calling dad? the one person who let me down more than you? what were you thinking? i haven't talked to him in 15 years, and he is supposed to know me? talk me out of things? you must be high. he'll do what he's always done: realise that i am still alive, appear on the scene long enough to tell me how to live my life, then disappear again. his opinion is a joke. and you? your name is mudd. far as i'm concerned you're a hypocrite, a bigot and a liar. you'd rather tell me you are coming to visit, making me wait 3 months to discover that you were lying. yup. congradulations. you are a paragon of christian virtue. seems being an ordained minister going to church constantly and reading your bible has resulted in an amazing amount of hypocracy. that's exactly what jesus would do. good hustle on that. when you get to the pearly gates, i'm sure you'll get a gold star for that. every time you pull this shit youre opening wounds that i have been desperately trying to let heal. i prefer your silence now. i gave you more than seven years of me trying. waiting for you to show me a little thought. but the day never came. you are too stuck with your little biggoted homophobic, transphobic christianity. you can have it. and it can have you. i don't give two shits about it or you. there are so many ways i'd love to curse you out. to rip your heart out so you feel an ounce of the pain you've given me. but i won't. i won't . i won't speak to you, i won't write you, i won't talk to you until you call me by MY name. till you see ME. if i were to pray for anything a xmas wish, perhaps, i'd be that you would go away. see, I REALLY DON'T WANT YOUR BULLSHIT CARE PACKAGES. cos it doesn't mean you are thinking of me. since i came out i've rarely been more than an after thought to you. and when i was i was a source of embarassment. i've been holding my tounge, believe it or not, but here is what i mean to say to you: FUCK YOU. FUCK YOU EVERY WAY POSSIBLE. i never thought that i'd grow to hate you. but these little things... i hate you when you do this. if you did nothing, atleast i'd be indifferent. but you do this, and i know what you are doing. if you cared, you'd just want me to be happy no matter what my sex. i never thought i'd feel so about you. you were my idol when i was a kid. i thought you were a rock star. i loved watching you fence and learn tai chi. only granny was as badass. how could i not want to grow up to be a woman? but now i see you for the scared little person who clings to religion because you're afraid to love. and you cling to it so tightly it's more important than our relationship. i tried for years. talking to you, kitty talked to you, and i know how you thought she would somehow make me a boy again. but she saw me for me. and loved me for me in a way that shook my world. she loved ME. not who she wanted me to be. she loved the real ME. which is more than you could do. some how i knew this was how it'd be. look. you don't want me to call you. i know you dont. you don't want to see me. i know you won't. so just cut the shit. i told you not to contact me again. my wish is that you'd respect me that much. but you can't stop thinking of yourself can you? so i tell you what. you just keep your little bullshit packages till you know how to adress them to me insead of "your very own son."

-me (like you'd know my name if i put it here.)
~*~*~fly, my sweet baby elephant, fly!! ~*~*~ smile.gif
blood don't always make for real family honey; I'm sorry you hurt.

sad already,
heart is breaking,
your upbeat silliness makes me smile through the tears like windshield wipers on a rainy night;
mrs, patiently (or not) waiting

ps: I Will be ok, I rompise.

except for when I am crazi and crabby, or maybe even Despite it right now, you rock my socks.
for the million and 10th time, I'm glad you're my girl.
oxo, mama

you're going to help me right? let me soak your fur when I need to hug something and your big sister isn't around, keep me sane when I think I hear sounds in the night and they are only you knocking things over/getting into things and places you don't belong/playing hide and go seek together.
this is the deal we have as part of the terms of our family, and might I remind you, it's Pretty Cushy Digs you both have landed in so I don't think it's asking so much.
say yes or I withold your x-mas stockings!
= not kidding= mama

dear boy -

call me. I found some old pictures today, and all I can think of is the good times. I miss you.

much love

dear m -

you confuse me. you make me nuts. and i'm completely intrigued. At least you asked me if we can get together before I brought it up. Good boy. oh - and please don't wait until the last day I'm in town to call. I can understand if you don't call immediately, but the second day is fine with me. okay? good. Now get your ass in gear and email me, please. Or even better, grow some balls and call me.

thank you.

ps - you have a super wicked, wacky sense of humor. that is such my achilles heel.
Dear extended family,
Please stop asking if we've set a date yet. We're not engaged. It was nice seeing y'all though.
and ((girltrouble))
Dear Filmmaker,

I just might be more excited for Thursday than I've been about seeing you so far. Also, possibly more nervous. I guess we'll both have to keep going with the very open communication thing we started so you know what I'm worried about, I know what you want, and we try to settle into somewhere in between. I'm just going to arrive on Thursday relaxed, and open to getting to know who you are. But I might have to ask about the shoe situation - it's just who I am.

we (as in in the many moods of me and our wee family of 3 here still) are o k.
the love is still here, just not in the physical form.
don't be a dork and keep hyperventilating every time you go into the bedroom/bathroom/see something of his.
the bed is not the enemy and sleeping in it tonight is totally the right thing to do bc what- you are seriously going to avoid it the next number of months? get real!
stronger, better, your mama didn't raise no sally sister mad.gif !
that said, it's totally ok to fall apart if it happens; you know where the love is, where it's Alway been, distance doesn't alter that at all.
kudo's for re-claming space already ! better to do it right away than to wait.
start the written journal (but in Moderation!!), set the phone up to call forward to cell, and get on with the living of life.

I am constantly telling myself to F.I.D.O. (for lots of different reasons)

Deployment I'm assuming?

If so, the good thing is that overseas bases now have way more access to the net, yahoo messenger, and phones than ever before....even private cell phones now....
A fun way to help the time go by is to send care packages with little inside things that would only mean something to you and him (like fav snacks you too always ate together, pictures,something with your scent on it etc). When he opens the box and sees all the thoughtful small things it will make his day, and def give him something to call, email, or snail mail to you about

I know what you're going through!
Take care
Dear Mom,

Yes, I know I need to lose at least 15 pounds. Thanks.

The worst part is I know that you are trying to be supportive. I did spend practically the entire day berating myself for getting depressed again, part of that being that I have gained weight. But I was having a really good day with Mr.Luci today, had just gotten back from a long walk, and getting your email about hoodia (aside- wtf happened to my cynical mother?? an infomercial-level snake oil? come ON!!) sent me spiraling downwards. Why I let it affect me so much I don't know, except maybe I always felt you were safe. And now you don't feel so safe to me.

You were right to say I would get angry with you for saying it. It's not like I don't know it already. It's not like you weren't just repeating what I had said, but somehow it felt like a betrayal. If you're getting tired of listening to me whine please just say so without trying to be helpful. It felt like a confirmation of all the evil shit I tell myself on an almost-constant basis.

I'm probably overreacting, but I feel really hurt right now and entirely confused.

dear longlost friend,

just wanted to let you know i'm thinking of you fondly. i don't know what came between us - time? distance? heading in different directions? - but i have so many happy memories of our time together, especially when the kids were little. you & your family were my sanctuary. i hope everyone is doing well, and that you have a lovely birthday. if ever the spirit moves you to get in touch, please do. but there's no pressure, of course.

much love,
xo mandi xo

dear b,

i sent you an ecard, and got a receipt that you read it. what the fuck is wrong with you, that you can't send a simple "thank you, hope your holidays were good"? i don't care how sick you are, the shit you pulled last year with my brother's wedding - telling him two weeks earlier you'd be there, and then not showing - is just plain fucked up. i don't even know why i bother. i always thought, if you showed up on my doorstep, i'd fling my arms around you and all would be forgiven in a hail of happy tears. not so anymore. it was unconditional love, and you threw it away. i hope you're doing well, i hope you're having some fun in your life, but honestly, i don't care if i ever hear from you again. you just plain suck, and certainly don't deserve my patience or my heart.


dear old friend -

god, it was good to see you yesterday. what's it been? 10 years? and how awesome that we picked up just like it had been 10 days. I never ever want to lose touch with you again. You still rock as much as you did back in High School and College. Probably even more. I admire so much what you've done with your life. I can only hope to make such a difference in the world someday. I'm really glad to call you my friend - I always have, even when we lost touch - and I'm even more glad that we can actively be in each other's lives again. You rule.


dear m -



dear boy -



dear impending blizzard -

please don't last long. I really want to meet Auralpoison and if you roll in and get really bad, I won't be able to drive over there. Not only that, but I need to fly out of here in a few days and I would appreciate being able to do it on time.

fuck you
dear life gods,
I'm sorry i'm such a bad student. We both know that I have some kind of diagnosed or undiagnosed ADD, and that I shouldn't have stopped the medication in highschool just because I "hated" my parents and wanted to "rebel" against the medical/pharmaceutical establishment. Well guess what: I'm more than halfway done with school and I haven't learned my lessons or learned a way to do work on time other than my own. Plus I still financially support depression meds, sleep meds, occassional cigarettes, weed, and booze. WHO AM I SUBVERTING NOW?
please beat me with something, but not academic probation.
Also, a normal pap would be fantastic.

dear overseas loverboy,
Why aren't you a dream?
Why do you cry and become hard when I call you?
Why do I still doubt myself?
I miss you and sort of love you but I cannot, I repeat, CANNOT be your financial support or legal support here in America. No. No weird legal arrangements. No supporting you. You must make it on your own here. with that said,

mi manca te. Thanks for letting me cry and telling me that you still wanted me and still want me because you are in love with me.


dear self,
your priorities are an embarassment.

dear sinuses
YOUR priorities are an embarassment--literally! I can't communicate to anybody because I can't breath or swallow. Fuck you and stop it!
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