A Few Letters.

Dearest Body –

Dude. I had NO IDEA how weak you are what you are capable of. No sugar, flour, or dairy for two days was insanely difficult. And all that YOGA. Man. You are all kinds of awesomeness.

(I don’t judge you for insane chocolate cravings. And buying a bag of chocolate chips for no reason at all is perfectly reasonable, despite what your husband insinuates with his raised eyebrows. YOU NEVER KNOW WHEN YOU’LL NEED CHOCOLATE, OKAY?)

Mwah,
Your Biggest Fan
……………………………

Dear Hamstrings –

Blame Baron Baptiste.

Love,
Me.
……………………………

Dear Baron Baptiste –

Holy ouch.

Ugh,
Ashley’ Hamstrings.
……………………………

My dear Trader Joe’s –

I want to kiss you on the lips for creating Candy Cane Joe Joe’s. PURE GENIUS.

Much love,
A Girl Who Loves Flour, Sugar, and Dairy More Than She Knew.

PS: Marry me.
……………………………

Dear Mike –

Thank you for not loving Candy Cane Joe Joe’s as much as me. And for getting excited for me as I was when I jubilantly pumped the Last Box (in the store) of Candy Cane Joe Joe’s into the air. Sweet victory.

Literally.

Kisses,
Your chubby little wife.

PS: Thanks for letting me get that Mac.
……………………………

Dear Gray Hairs –

Go away. I’m twenty four years old.

– A Youthful-Looking Blogger. (Just don’t look too close, apparently.)
……………………………

Dear Twitter –

I wouldn’t know what’s going on in the world if it weren’t for you.

(And by that, I mean I wouldn’t have known the Golden Globes are on.)

– Hopelessly Out-of-Touch with Pop Culture
……………………………

Michael Cera –

You are adorable and Innocent and wonderful in Arrested Development.

If you weren’t 14 at the time, and I wasn’t married…

Sigh,
A Pathetic 24-year-old.
……………………………

Dear Future –

I think you may be listening to me. Just to restate: I want to be a graphic designer and work part-time at Starbucks.

And have my nose pierced.

Ahem.

– Waiting with High Hopes.
……………………………

Flight of the Conchords –

Why you gotta be so exclusive? Just because I can’t afford HBO (or, uh, cable. period.) doesn’t mean I don’t love you two to pieces.

I say come to NBC. Wednesdays work for me.

– Girl Who Hums “It’s Business Time” to Herself Regularly.