letters, we’ve got letters, we’ve got stacks and stacks of letters…LETTERS!

in the long tradition of bloggers before me (hello all! i’m shamelessly stealing your idea! thanks!), i present to you the random short letters to inanimate objects or people i don’t know et al.

dear makers of dove dark chocolate promises,

thank you for making the best dark chocolate ever. and for making me feel compelled to keep eating them to see what little shiny fortune you have wrapped inside.

my thighs hate you.


the girl who tries to convince herself the antioxidants make up for the overindulgence.

dear drunken parade of people going to my neighbor’s apartment,

it’s friday night. yay for you that you’re here, hanging out with your friends, at my neighbor’s apartment across the way. while i do recognize that the design of the boardwalk walkways that go from our stairs to your destination are not your responsibility (curse you, stupid not forward thinking architects!), do you HAVE to sound like a thundering horde of elephants every.single.time you come up and down the stairs? and do you have to sing really loud too?

you’re scaring the cat.



dear people who keep getting engaged, one after the other, after only dating for a few months (if that) over and over again and telling me about it,

please stop.

at least for a month.

eight is all i can take for one two- or three-week period.

you may recommence about the time of march madness.

(that would be appropriate.)

and, yes, i am happy for you.  tell me where you’re registered. i’ll buy you a garlic press.

much love,

carrie on a dating diet.

dear facebook bumper sticker application people,

please stop putting naked people on there.

i don’t want porn when i go scrolling through.  i don’t care if other people do.  i don’t.

please stop.

did i mention that you should stop?



a girl trying to be virtuous.  seriously.

dear Heavenly Father,

thank You for answering every single prayer i prayed about mom’s biopsy.  EVERY SINGLE ONE.

i don’t deserve it.  thanks for thinking that i do anyways.

You have no idea.


Your daughter.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s

%d bloggers like this: