Dear 2014~

Dear 2014~
        I feel like you and I never got off on the right foot. We even got a bonus month of time to try to improve things at the end of 2013 and yet, our ride never reached that thrilling high. Instead, my roller coaster derailed, flew 60 feet into the air, caught on fire and landed on a tiny brood of baby bunnies smashing them to smithereens. 2014, you were supposed to be smamazing! (Smashing and amazing of course) I should really sue for false advertising but seeing as you pull this crap every year, maybe I need to figure out what your real name is. "Time period denoted by the Gregorian calendar where you spring fucked up events on everyone unsuspectingly" is kind of a mouthful. If we get down to it, so many things happened this year that I don't even remember because I was too busy putting out fires that you set, you life arsonist. I was told a long time ago "life's not fair." And of course, everyone at some point learns this lesson and it is reinforced several times throughout one's existence. But I think maybe you need to go back to elementary school and learn about fractions or percentages because what you feel is the proper amount of fuckery and what I feel is appropriate are VASTLY different numbers apparently.

Under normal circumstances, I feel these are the appropriate proportions. There will be slight deviations, but this most accurately represents the ideal year for me. (Though occluded, bullshit amounts to 5 %)

See those big chunks? I know with happiness comes sadness. But that sadness level is acceptable to maintain the happy chunk.

You, 2014, you shady bitch.This is what I was blessed with this year...
Yea.. Let's just process this ninja douchery that was set upon me by the universe: almost death of parent right on the anniversary of the death of other parent. parent relapsing and needing possibly extended care, losing my job, being threatened with eviction, a possible fix to eviction, getting my job back, being forced to move, losing my job again, actual moving, shitty 30th birthday realizing i've only met 1.5 of the goals I had set for turning 30, water damage to my couch and having to buy a new one, losing my health insurance and being forced to pay an astronomical fee for reinstatement because getting a new policy would leave me without insurance till february (and considering just for 2 of my medications would be over $3000 for a month's supply, I had no choice) and spending all 3 holidays alone. That doesn't include the relatively minor things that  my brain turns into huge ordeals. And that is just what happened to me. According to a large amount of people 2014 was a shitty year for everyone.   
                                                                                                                                            
So, 2014, I'm glad you're over but if I catch ANY remnants of your crappy plans this year, when time travel become available will go back to 2013 and thwart your plans. Screw the butterfly effect.

                                                                                                          Much hate,
                                                                                                                 Moi

P.S.- I feel it's unfair to show you two pie charts, but no pie. So enjoy!

Dear Rupaul's Drag Race~

Dear Rupaul's Drag Race~
                  First, congratulations on your upcoming 7th season! Had I known you would make it this long I would have bought stock in sequins, hip pads and industrial strength make up remover, hunty. You introduced me to a whole new world for which I am grateful but I feel there are some things we need to clear up...

 The Library is now open! *dons glasses*

You bring a whole new level to reality tv. Its past train wreck, past not-really-scripted-but-actually-super-scripted drama. You, my sweet, are grown up honey boo-boo who has to tuck. Throw on a truck load of glitter and bam! You've got award winning tv. There is enough fake hair on your contestants to shoot an entire race of Wookies for the new Star Wars film. There is enough padding to make floatation devices for an entire Carnival cruise ship. You show the picture of glamor every little girl dreams of but do not explain that its going to take a gallon of make up and a breast plate to get there. Oh and cardio... So. Much. Cardio. (The exceptions are your BBW queens like Jiggly Caliente, Latrice Royale, Mimi Imfurst and Darriene Lake) I think these queens deserve extra praise not for their ample bosom, but because they are gay men in dresses AND fat. Latrice and Jiggly are also not Caucasian so they are part of almost every group that is openly hated, condemned and bullied. Yet instead of the multiple struggles they face and overcome, the queens who are already pretty attractive as men are usually highlighted while the gloriously corpulent are rarely acknowledged. This is a travesty. I eagerly await the day that a super sized sexy siren will be named as the next drag superstar. Get on that pronto! And now some ABC's...

        I must confess that you have taught me several things about myself (a heterosexual cisgendered woman)and most of them are not good. First, through your glorious teaching I have learned that were I to be a drag queen, I would have the unfortunate designation as a "booger." But on the plus side, I would be a champion "camp queen." I would not be "cheese cake" in the least. I'd rather be "dusty" than "crusty" or "fishy." I would need a fierce "fairy drag mother" to get me into shape before I could compete. This is not "kiki"- this is serious business! I did not know it was so brutal to "lipsync for your life." I have ample "padding" even if it's lumpy, disproportional and in the wrong place. I can "throw shade" for days but am sensitive enough to be devastated if I had to "sashay away." But since I'm not a drag queen, I am extremely saddened to know I can never be as beautiful and glamorous as a fabulous man in a dress can be.

The Library is now closed. *takes glasses off*

You make me wish I had drag queen skills. I want to be able to emphasize the good, cover up the bad, and be the comedy queen I know could be. Also, do you have a commercial sponsor for those chicken cutlets? Some of those men have way better ta ta's than I do. To all the fellow drag queen admirers I say be proud of your charisma, uniqueness, nerve and talent. HALELOO! And to the haters? Get lost!

                                                                                                   Bye girl bye!
                                                                                                           Moi

Dear Dryer~

Dear Dryer~
          I understand you have been employed as a "Garment De-moisturizer" for quite some time now, but I feel it is time for a performance evaluation...

Were I to be asked if you performed your job adequately and on budget, my answer would be a resounding no. While a bit chilly at night time, I believe the concrete slab of the patio attached to my abode could do a better job.  As of this evening, it would be cheaper too. Your facade of being a working dryer was almost flawless. You took my money. You roared to life as I selected the setting. I left, resting assured you would function as promised. This contract we entered into was not done lightly. I had wet clothes, wet clothes that needed to be...well, not as wet obviously. And suddenly there you were! (which is not a surprise seeing as you weigh several hundred pounds and have not moved probably since the day you were installed, which by the looks of things was shortly after, if not the very day I was born.) Your alabaster face is not worn but slightly dirty from years of mistreatment. You've had so many strangers panties inside you I'm almost afraid to put in my now sopping wet clothes for fear of disease. Had I known you were a liar and a cheat, I would have taken my business elsewhere! Elsewhere, of course, being a foot away into your neighbor. But no, you fooled me with your grunts of motion and laughed as I opened the door to discover my wet laundry had become my cold wet laundry. Not only did you not do your job, you did the exact opposite of the only two things you are known for-heating and drying.

         It is for these reasons I must ask for you to resign, or I will treat you as the printer from the movie "Office Space." I will then put a sign on your face reading "I am a liar! I won't work, will take your money, and leave you craving warmth." So foul dryer, you are like everyone's ex.

                                                                                    In the absence of love,
                                                                                                          Me