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Dear Rose:

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I know that you and I have not spoken since you got fired from work for stealing. I thought it would be best to further distance myself from you and the strange drama that surrounds you. You came to mind this evening because I was looking through my scarf and mitten bin. The last time i had it out was last spring when I was organizing it to pack up for the summer. You just so happened to be over because we were watching a movie. You saw the beehive hat that my mum knitted for me and sang it’s praises for a good fifteen minutes at least. Fast forward to this cold, wintry evening. I crack the bin open and there is no beehive hat to be found. I KNOW that I put it in there. I can’t believe that I am even asking this, but I have turned my apartment upside down, searching for the beehive. Did you take it? ( I hope the answer is no, because that would make you even more pathetic and sad than I already think you are.)

Hopes shes wrong, but suspects that she is right.



Dear Sunday-

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Thanks for being so relaxing and easy. I daresay you were “easy like Sunday morning” Work was really nice, laid back and calm. I was really impressed by the lack of unnecessary questions asked by guests. People even watched their own kids instead of turning them loose in the museum and parking their asses on the nearest bench. Twas a thing of beauty. . Week two of being a good Catholic was successful too. I wrapped the night up with dinner by my folks, hanging out with my mum, and then coming home to watch a movie and snuggle with Arlo the magnificent.

Sunday, don’t ever change.


Dear Snow:

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It would be so much easier to hate you if you weren’t so damn pretty. At least now you are, once you have fallen, been driven through, stepped on, and yellowed by the dogs you will look like the hideous waste of precipitation that you actually are. I think you are cold, mean, slippery, and prejudice against those who have no private parking spots. You are also mean to people who have to take the bus. You drift from the heavens, but clearly have origins in hell.

I love watching you fall, but hate picking you up.

*Bridget, with a shovel ready and waiting.

Dear Afternoon Nap:

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Without you, I would be nothing. I omitted sleep from my life last night and everything that happened between 6:45a.m. this morning and 12:34p.m. when I surrendered to your charms feels like a distant memory. Or maybe like I was watching someone else do it. Someone else showered and drove to school. Someone else sat through the 4 hour joke that I know as Psychology class. Someone else picked up Subway for my lunch date with dad. Someone else noticed how rude the person behind the counter was. Someone else made sure to give her a satisfied scowl once the sandwiches were wrapped and bagged and well out of spitting range. Someone else told her to have a nice day, but thoroughly did not mean it. Someone else felt so lucky to have a dad that works from home that she can lunch with as often as she likes, knowing that not all girls are this lucky. Someone else noticed that unless dad is out on sales calls, he sometimes doesn’t comb his hair (one of the luxuries of working from home, i suppose). Someone else had to have experienced these things because I was catatonically tired. When I finally met up with you in the guest bedroom at my parent’s house, I don’t even remember my head hitting the pillow. All I know is that I, not someone else, got the best sleep that I have had in months between 12:34 and 4:29 p.m.

Muchos Gracias!


Dear Ballman Family:

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You are, and shall remain in my thoughts and prayers. It is a very surreal experience to think that the little boy who used to dash through our kickball games to catch a football now lays dead at the hands of someone with no self control. I cannot fathom what it would be like to lose a son and his friend (who was just as dear to you) in a matter of moments on the night when we are supposed to be thankful for all of our blessings. Take a bit of solace in knowing that Tommy and Jeremy now both know what the kingdom of heaven holds in store. Its difficult to believe in the wake of something like this that God really does have a plan. Be thankful that you are such a close knit family and you have one another to lean on in this tragic time.

in awe of your strength and with deepest sympathy.

Bridget Miliacca

Dear Loved Ones of Every Variety:

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I am lucky to have you all in my life and I feel that I would be nothing without you. You give my life meaning and you color in all the gray. I know this kicks off the holiday season officially, which can be a stressful time, but this year I plan to desperately cling to this feeling of thankfulness that I feel in my heart. Holding it there may make the holidays a bit easier to bare. Maybe I can make it last all year. You can be appreciative all year round, but there is nothing like the thankful feeling that emerges in late November every year.

with a thankful heart,


To My Darling Manicure & Pedicure:

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There is nothing else in the whole wide world that makes me feel so pretty and girly as you. I treated myself to your splendor as a birthday present to me. I felt so luxurious casually paging through my most recent issue of BUST as grace worked her magic on my toes. I chose a color for my toes called “Smitten With Mittens” from the OPI Holiday Collection. It is a cheery red with vibrant shimmering red glitter throughout. I am “smitten” with this color and though it is November and getting cold, I would like to wear flip flops everywhere for the next three weeks to show it off. I literally cannot stop staring at my toes. For my fingernails, I chose a lovely autumnal color called “Brisbane Bronze” it should look really nice with my outfit for Thanksgiving tomorrow. I cannot think of a more perfect way to treat myself for taking one more trip around the sun.

– Lady B