Sorry I've been a grouch this week. If you'd do everything MY way I wouldn't get so frustrated with you.
Dear Work,
I'm feeling a little smothered. Let's break up for a weekend. I don't want to see you, talk about you or hear about/from you for four. whole. days.
Dear Ice Storm,
If you ruin my lovely weekend- I'll be really mad. I'll probably cry. And my crying is not a pretty sight. You don't want to do that to the world, do you?
Dear Sundance Film Festival,
I've been waiting for two years to see this movie. Why do you only have one showing of it (at a time when normal people who have actual jobs can go to it?) and then sell out the tickets a month in advance?
Dear BBC,
Why are your series only six episodes long? and why oh WHY haven't you started this year's installment of Sherlock? WHY????
Dear Richard Armitage,
This might get a little awkward, but would it be too much to ask you to be my first kiss? I'm royalty you know. Not only am I descended from William the Conqueror down through the line of John of Gaunt, I was at one time Queen of the V.L. club, but I am now Empress (remember my promotion?). I don't know if that really matters to you. I'm just trying to impress you so that the idea might appeal to you and make me sound a little less pathetic... just a little?
No? Ok.
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