The Metamorph

Love, Me

Nodding my head like “yeah”

Thursday, November 5, 2009

Dear Drivers In My Neighborhood,

If you do not take your foot off the brake, we are NEVER GETTING DOWN THIS HILL.

Also, you’re WAY on my side of the double yellow line. Get out.

Yours in aggravation,
Michelle
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Dear Hair,

You are hereby On Notice. No, you are beYOND On Notice. It’s a PONYTAIL. I wear one EVERY. DAY. Why ya gotta be all rebellious all of a sudden? What’s with all the pointing in every direction and refusing to lie flat on the top of my head?

There are remedies for this which involve sharp objects. Consider yourself warned.

Sincerely,
Me
**********

Dear Everyone In The Entire Universe,

NO ONE is too cool for Miley Cyrus. I’ve been reading everywhere about how people have “Party In The U.S.A.” stuck in their heads, and they moan about it like it’s a bad thing.

Embrace the Dork Side, people. We have dance music.
YouTube Preview Image

Love,
Me

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Because February means love letters

Wednesday, February 4, 2009

Dear Universe,

Please help me make good choices so that when I am 103 years old I am not forced to work the drive-thru at Arby’s.

Love,
Me

****
Dear Stephen King,

Your books are scary but you are of surprisingly sound mind and THANK YOU for the truthiness about Stephenie Meyers and her good story but lack of decent writing ability and how DARE people say she’s the next J.K. Rowling? NO, SIR. It’s what I’ve been saying for ages but since I’m a nobody, nobody pays attention to me. STEPHEN KING IS ON MY SIDE, PEOPLE.

Love,
Me

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Dear Mother Nature,

Thank you for potatoes and the vegetable oil in which we may fry them. BEST. THING. EVER.
After the Almighty Cocoa Bean. And sugar.

Love,
Me

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Dear crazy female Walmart employee,

Excuse me, but I’m not stupid, I am perfectly capable of getting through the Self-Checkout by myself, I’m sure it’s called the “SELF-checkout” for a reason. So when I’m only buying two items, and the screen shows that I’ve scanned in two items, don’t tell me that I haven’t scanned everything in. I mean, what else do you want, my arse? I’m sorry, but it doesn’t have a bar code and you DON’T have an SKU Number for that.

No love,
Me

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Dear dude who was working on the door as I was trying to get out of Walmart,

Um, the fact that you CLOSED the sliding door as I was trying to leave was creepy enough. THEN you teased me, saying that you weren’t going to let me out, using absolutely demented baby talk in some nightmarish movie-version-of-a-pedophile style voice. You’re lucky that I didn’t think of whipping out my cameraphone and adding your picture to this post until JUST NOW, DAMMIT.

No love,
Me

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Dear Universe,

Why can’t I think of these things in a much more timely manner? WHHHHYYYYYY DO YOU HATE ME SO???

Thank you for chocolate cupcakes, though.

Undecided,
Me

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Dear Mother Nature,

Monday, February 11, 2008

You know, I completely get it. I understand that you are who you are you need to do your thing and all that, so I’m not complaining that it’s bloody FREEZING outside, that there appears to be a treacherous sheet of ice on my deck, and that I’m hearing very distinct and increasingly frequent rumbles of thunder.

Nope, not complaining.

So I feel perfectly justified in requesting that whatever you’re concocting for us weatherwise today, please make sure it doesn’t damage my very pretty, very noisily installed, brand spankin’ new roof. Please?

Love,
Me

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