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Showing posts with label fridays letters. Show all posts
Showing posts with label fridays letters. Show all posts

Friday, February 15, 2013

Fridays Letters (Desperate Housewives, Valentines & Oklahoma)





Dear Friday. I am so glad you are here. Mainly because you are not Thursday or Wednesday
and I no longer feel spending my time in the bathroom all day long.

Dear Valentines Day. We usually don't get a whole lot out of you. Especially NOT on the actual Valentines Day. It's usually a few days off. This year proved no different. Basically, You suck.

Dear Honey. I'm sorry I didn't come out of my ...er...our bedroom for 2 days. Blech.

Dear Desperate Housewives. Thank you for providing me with hours of senseless entertainment
for days on end.

Dear Netflix. You provide a whole different kind of addict.

Dear Anberlin. I forgot how much I love you. I do. I recommitt myself to you.

Dear old school pictures of me looking like a native american country music rock star. Thank you for providing me with quality photos when I've had no time and energy to take anything new lately.

Dear Florida. You are less than a month away. Woo Hoo!

Dear Oklahoma. SO are you. Yippee!

Dear supporters of my Suburbia to the Streets project. Thank You, Thank You, Thank You...
I am at $455 raised (with another $50 promised next week) That means I only have $295 
left to reach my goal! 14 days left. If you promised me your support, please...dont forget??
OK? Pretty please? Love you all!

Dear Readers and Friends. Your support, friendship and thoughtful words means more than
you know to me. Some days when I feel crummy or low, they keep me going.


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Friday, August 24, 2012

Wish You Were Here (Friday's Letters)

Dear Vacation: One of your definitions are 'freedom or release from duty, business, or activity.'
Another one states 'a period of suspension from work, usually used for rest, recreation or travel.'
I think that you should have a new definition for people with kids. We will discuss this later.

Dear Door County: You were supposed to be relaxing. A time where I didnt have to think.
You should have prepared more activities for my kids to do so that I didn't have to think about them complaining how we never do anything fun.



Dear Alpine Resort: You provided the perfect atmosphere for relaxation, rest, tanning, walks...
just what I wanted. I failed to remember that I have 3 kids. That simply doesn't happen without
a fight. I mean, a fight every 1-2 hours.


Dear Wesley: My dear sweet son. Oh, how I love you. You are my first born. My only boy. I will never forget how happy I was when you were born. But the screaming and running from bees in front of groups of people all over Door County, Wisconsin is rather humiliating. I'm sure, at the very least, our family is famous now...for having the kid that "screams & runs from bees." Look us up in the Door County directory next time you visit. Thanks. See You Soon.



Dear Leila: My sweet blonde haired, blue eyed doll. Babes, when mommy buys you a blue ice cream cone, it is for your enjoyment. Not to schmere all over the Ice Cream Shop window. I mean, of course, unless that is what you enjoy.

Dear Jada: Why must you terrify your mother and be so independent? I'm not a fan of yelling your name throughout a resort in tears. Please, for the love of your mom, stop wandering off.


Dear Hayride & Bonfire: One marshmallow and a fire the size of my stove top burner does not qualify as a "bonfire." But thanks for getting me all excited.


Dear Mom: Happy Birthday! I'm sorry that one of my daughters pretended to throw up and my other daughter decided to take off her shoes and take a nap on the floor of the fancy restaurant you chose for your birthday dinner. They're YOUR granddaughters. Aren't you proud?

Dear Stars in the Sky: Oh. My. God. Beautiful.


Dear Lake Michigan: Thank you for remaining crystal clear on our vacation. It was a nice change to the mucky, litter and crap filled Lake Michigan we know in Milwaukee.


Dear "Fun Park": I don't think I'd go that far to call it a park... or fun for that matter. How do a go-kart, mini golf and 8-9 video games qualify as a park? Just sayin.
Maybe Mediocre Thing would be better?


Dear Tiny Ice Cubes: I love you. I mean, Apparently I must. Since I kept making Jeff go get me buckets of you from the bar so I could chew on you like I was in labor or something.


Dear Hubs: You're obsession with trying lattes from every coffee shop you can find is a little out of control. We may need to get you some help.

Dear Restaurant Establishment in Fish Creek: Who knew buying a simple "memonay" (lemonade) to appease a cranky 3 year old who "couldn't walk" would lead to crabbypants falling off your high table bench and sprain her wrist and develop a giant egg on her forehead. Sorry about all the ruckus.



Dear Technology: Sometimes I hate you, sometimes I love you! Car trips are one of those "love filled" moments.

Dear Readers: Again, thanks for your patience with me. I am excited to start blogging regularly. I feel like  I am past that "ugh" moment I was having and am ready to blog my little heart out.
Thanks for showing me the love.



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Friday, July 6, 2012

fridays letters: ode to a roach


Dear New Sunglasses: You've made your way into my heart. I think every picture I take of myself
makes that obvious. I don't even want to hear that I don't love you as much as the next pair.
Because I love you more.

Dear Enormous Roach: I'd appreciate it if you'd tell all your buddies that are still alive,
to make their home elsewhere. This place is ours.

Dear Parade Participants: Next year, ya may want to adult size your "candy throwers." My kids came home with approximately enough candy to last them til Halloween thanks to all the KIDS throwing it out!

Dear Non Existent Blue Tongue: I made the assumption that you were blue. Because I was drinking a slushy with Jada and her tongue was blue. I wonder how many people were staring at me when I kept taking pictures of myself with my tongue hanging out. Awkward.


Dear 109 Degrees: It's a good thing I'm not a cusser, cuz #$#%*&^%$*^ beeeeeeep!!!

Dear Scott Walker: I know you have a lot of haters. But when you walked by us during the 4th of July Parade and my daughter fell out of her wagon onto the street, your concern was appreciated.

Dear Caramel Frapp: You're so wrong for me, but you taste so right.

Dear Christina (aka TicoandTina): Next week we get to meet in real life. Next week will be the time when my hugging theory in THIS blog post is proven out one way or the other. 
Will I or Won't I? To be Determined.

Dear Kids: Daddy and Me are sorry we went through your toys this morning and threw bags and bags of them away. No, wait. No we're not.


Dear Readers: Thank YOU for the awesome, amazing feedback I got from my last post! I was seriously nervous to even post it for some reason. I was AMAZED at how many confessions I got out of you all. You do realize, that was my intent. (wink wink)
I think that was the most comments I ever got on a post. I mean, I know it was.  You guys rock!


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Thursday, May 17, 2012

Dear Chicago-part 2


Dear Chicago. Ah, so we meet again, old friend. Every time our eyes meet, 
old memories have a way of tearing the door down to my brain 
& new memories sweetly embrace the old.
Either way, have I ever told you I heart you. In all your forms.
Dear Red & White Checkered Wedges. You suck. 
You're think you're so stinkin cute and I swear I could hear you laugh 
when you didn't fit me. You would have made me look,
kinda cute, I think. Somehow you remind me of The Beverly Hillbillies.
Da dum da dum dum. Bump Bump. Oh wait, no. Thats Green Acres.


Dear Husband. we both have issues. Why the need to forgo each others company 
in exchange for instagram pictures? 
Sometimes we even took pictures of each other taking pictures of each other.
See, this is what happens when you've been married for 16 years. 
Spicy, right?
 

Dear Starbucks. I am sorry my husband spilled coffee 
all over your floor. 
I'm even more sorry that said coffee was 
NOT from Starbucks. 
He hates you. What can I say?


Dear Phone Camera & Bathroom Mirror. 
Thanks for teaming up to entertain me while I was sitting in the dungeon the bathroom 
of "The Riv" for a half an hour 
to charge my phone for 3 minutes worth of usage.

Dear Art Institute of Chicago. You totally rocked my world. 
Ok, maybe that's stretching it.  My day, you rocked my day.
 

Dear Monet: I remember looking at your beautiful paintings when I was a little girl. 
My parents bought me an art book with your work, after winning a bunch of art contests 
in the Gogebic County Fair 4H Contest. Whatev. You're jealous.


Dear "The Riv." Will You marry me? Thank You soooo much for bringing
 the recently reunited Cranberries back into my life 
for the 2nd time in 3 years. 

Dear The Cranberries. I seriously want to cry. 
I am completely starstruck when I see you in concert.
Your music brings back so many memories. Memories from my teen years. 
Happy Memories. It was a simpler time.

Dear Artist. Really? I mean, REALLY? This is art? Are you sure you didnt pick 
these chairs up at Walmart?
How does this compare to van Gogh or Monet,
 or talent of any kind? 
This looks like a factory assembly line of plastic to me. Sooooo confused.


Dear van Gogh. Heyyyy! Your ears back!


Dear Amtrak & CTA Train. You are MY equivalent to a knight in shining armor. 
 (What can I say, I'm easy to please?)
I vividly remember the days of fighting traffic to do "chicago." 
Never again, she says with fists in air! Never!!!


Dear Wicker Park. You will see me again. And soon. 
With a nice wad of cash in my hand.
It was destiny that brought me to you.


Dear Wicker Park "Park." In the movie, I remember you being cold and snowy.
What happened? Weird.

Dear Graffiti Vandals and/or Artists: 
You could take those plastic chair guys any day.

Dear Readers: Thank YOU for encouraging me, laughing with or AT me, 
and making my day. Really, you ARE the best. Like ever!

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Friday, March 23, 2012

Fridays Letters

Dear Time, I'm gonna need you to stand still for about 3 days, if that is ok. I can never ever seem to get anything I need totally done.  Dear Vicodin, I appreciate the help, but if you really wanna help, try not to make me so sleepy. It's not good for the whole "getting stuff done" process. Dear HTC Rezound, you have me obsessed with take pictures. If I wasnt already obsessed, I am now.  The self portrait has become way too easy. You are making me look really vain.  Dear Ulcer, wait... why am I calling my ulcer "dear?"  You have done nothing but bring me trouble.  Dear Friday, sorry but I like Monday better. It's the day the kids go back to school. Seems like you have enough admirers anyways. Dear March, you're such a tease. This weather has been phenomenal the past few weeks. Bet you're laughing at us all now.  Dear Twitter, why do you keep malfunctioning on me? My tweets are not tweeting as a tweeter would hope. UGH! Dear BW3's, you sounded so good, and greasy, but you weren't all that special. Sorry to break it to ya! Dear Lukas, please, for the love of all that is good, please stop walking into our office and farting and then walking away. Goodness. Dear Husband, every day that goes by, I realize more and more what a good guy you are. We have our 'not so nice moments', but your love has been unconditional and your nightly massages have made life more possible.  Dear Blog, I love you, but sometimes I feel like you are selfish and want all my time. I loathe selfishness... so, chill. Dear Selfish People, do you even  know who you are?! think about others for a change. That is all.  Dear Motivation, where the heck did you go? Seriously, my legs feel like jello because I havent worked out in sooo long. Dear Daughters, please stop using the word poop in exchange for insults, or any other word that you can't think of.  Dear Wesley, I am sorry, but nope, you don't get a prize for having ONE day with all smiley faces at school. Dear Jesus, I am so dependent on you.  I had no idea how much your grace actually sustains me until these past few years. I will never ever question your goodness. My hope is always in you.

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Friday, February 24, 2012

dear chicago

 dear mom. thank you for planning a birthday trip to chicago for lil OLD me ;-)!!!
 i love you so so much and had so much fun laughing and talking with you.

dear amtrak. thank you for the smooth, yet very bumpy ride to chicago. 
any traffic avoided was well worth the bumps.

dear union station guy. thank you for the ride from the train to the station. i was clothed in "celebrity" status emotion as i rode your little cart and as you beeped your
horn at all the lowly pedestrians.

dear cab driver. thanks for being a cute, non scary nice girl.

dear bell boy. i am sorry my mom took the $12 tip away from you after you pulled the suitcase out of the trunk for her. you shouldnt have stuffed the money in your pocket so quickly.  
no, i am sorry...lifting ONE suitcase does NOT earn you $12.
she does those kinda things...accidentally.

dear forever 21. thank you for making several floors of cheap clothes. i get bored of clothing easily, so cheap is always the way to go.

dear moms cell phone. i know you tried to pull a fast one on my mom by hopping out of her purse.thanks to you, she got a little extra exercise in having to walk all the way back to the hotel to find you.

dear bussers, water givers, security greeter people, several hundred people rushing to open the door for us. do you all expect a tip? or is a thank you good enough? i am completely unsure what to make of so many people wanting to "help."

dear mascara. sorry i almost put you on my lips. my bad.

dear ruth chris. whoever you are, your steak melts in my mouth. for real.
awkward.

dear chicago pedestrians. thank you for showing me that, yes, it is ok to run in front of  
angry cab drivers.

dear omni hotel. please update your website. when you say you have a hot tub, we most definitely expect to use it. when you are renovating, ya might wanna say so since we booked a hotel specifically with a "hot tub."

dear delicious food. stop now being so delicious. i mean it.

dear full nights sleep. thank you. that is all. thank you.

dear toe. why must you let my toenail grow into you? who told you to do that?
it makes walking nearly impossible.

dear magnificent mile. you are indeed, mangificent.

dear wesley. stop reading my blog post out loud as i write it. i feel like a 2nd grade teacher and you are my student.

dear elevator. stop tricking me. i keep ditching you on the wrong floor and its usually in front of an elevator full of Swedish or Norwegian men and i look like an idiot when i walk out and walk back in.

dear mom please let me see kids conversation in the darnest things that kids say. 
(that was wesley)

dear wesley. stop hijacking my blog.

dear new boots, shoes, jeans, pants, sweater, shirts, rings & headband. you are all so 
adorably cute. thanks for making me feel pretty.

dear starbucks. i like alterra better. but your hot chocolate offered me some cozy warm goodness ON a brisk chicago morning.

 dear chicago. thank you for being close to milwaukee. you make an easy escape 
for a mom with 3 kids who needs one now and then.


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