All Things Woompty

Letters from a Madwoman

Dear Phone Install Guy At Work:
I understand that they have understaffed your department, and I can totally empathize. But I swear to Bog, if you EVER call me again and start yelling like you did today, I will reach straight through the phone, shove my fist straight down your throat, fish around for your spleen and then remove it. Mother fucker.

Dear Everyone Else At Work:
Who the hell told you it was okay to be annoying, grumpy, pissy, bitchy and otherwise difficult today when interacting with me? It is not my fault that A) corporate is dragging its feet with something, B) the coffee machine is broken or C) you ran out of pencils this morning. Do not take it out on me, or A) I will tell corporate to "lose" the paperwork, B) I will break the coffee machine 5 minutes after we get it fixed, or C) I will conveniently forget where the key to the supply closet it. Bite my ass, numbskulls. Except my boss, who totally behaved well today.

Dear Zappos.com:
I love you for making it possible to buy these darling shoes today, for a mere fraction of their original cost. So pretty! So sassy! So Italian! But I kind of hate you too, because MY GOD, THE PRETTY SHOES. So distracting! So drool worthy! And now I think I will have to buy these ones too, because they are pretty and sparkly and blue and exactly perfect wedding shoes. Damn you, Zappos! But never leave me, please.

Dear Mari Winsor:
Fuck your "one more for luck!" peppiness. I know your secret, Mari. I know you're really the bride of Satan and that the two of you sit around trying to come up with more absurd poses for us to try and follow on your DVDs. And those people in the studio with you! The ones with the absurdly flexible legs? Freaky, that's what that is. I will conquer The Seal, Mari. Mark my words, I will. Just as soon as these ab muscles I didn't realize existed stop hurting when I laugh.

Dear L'oreal:
My love for you knows no bounds. If you ever stop making the Feria line of haircolor, I will cry copious amounts of tears. And then I will take up residence on your front doorstep until you start making it again. You have seen me through black, red and blonde and now, glorious, lovely bronzed chocolate brown. You complete me. Or rather, you complete my hair.


Man, this day needs to be over.

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Edited to add the picture that Miss Mare so kindly requested. The hair still has some red tones to it that get really emphasized by the camera flash, but you can tell it's darker.

And also, I am totally hot in this picture.

posted by Melinda @ 4:06 PM