Letters

Dear Baylor:
Thank you for five and a half awesome years. I can’t complain about much, except for the ridiculous attendance policy. Knock that sucker out and you’ll be the most perfect university in the world. Oh, and maybe do better at football?

Dear Oakley:
Please, for the love of GOD, stop shedding in my house.

Dear COMPS:
I hope your bruises are healing nicely from that time that all the third semesters beat the ever loving crap out of you. I’ll admit, you were a tough one to take out, but in the end- you got what was coming to you.

Dear man who broke into my car:
You are a moron. You broke into my car, are probably homeless, and didn’t even think to grab the $40 Eno hammock. This is why you have to break into cars for a living, genius.

Dear moving boxes:
Stop staring at me with your beady little eyes. I will not pack yet!

Dear ICEE company:
Thank you for your sweet, sweet nectar.

Dear finals:
Please, be gentle.

Dear May:
Please explain to me why you think it’s acceptable to be 40 degrees outside right now. Were you waiting for the opportune moment? Like, the exact three days after I packed up everything in my closet with long sleeves? Thanks, May… you really are a trickster, someone should change it to May Fool’s Day in your honor. Now cut the crap before I have to unpack my hoodies.

Dear Kate Middleton:
Thank you for wearing the most beautiful wedding dress I’ve ever seen, and also for crushing my hopes of ever being remotely as gorgeous as you on my wedding day. I personally think you make a great Duchess.

Dear Benjamin:
Please come home. I realize that you’re probably scared and hiding under something, maybe inside a shrub or tree… but if you could kindly just fly on back to the Fairfield Oaks, we sure would love to meet you in person. Something about hearing of your adventures through twitter updates just isn’t satisfactory enough. I promise not to make you into an English-themed hat.

Dear Texas:
You know, I realize that the coolest thing about you is that you could probably secede from the United States at any given whim and become your own nation, and I also realize that you are my second home, BUT if you don’t lower the freaking pollen count here in about 24 hours, I am personally “fixin” to Mess With Texas. Just yesterday I think I threw out my back sneezing. 23 year olds don’t throw out their backs- but oh yes, you made it happen. It’s unacceptable. Fix it.

Dear Bon Jovi:
I will be in attendance at your concert May 17th in Houston, and will gladly accept any offers of back-stage passes, meet and greets, sleepovers, etc. I’ll be the girl crying in section 119 when you sing “Always,” because I truly believe you are singing that to me. I just want you to know that I have been eating Ramen noodles for the past three weeks just to save money for this trip. Dearest Jon, I’d live and I’d die for you, steal the sun from the sky for you, words can say what love can do… I’ll be there for you.

Dear Shreveport:
Please give me a job. You won’t regret it, promise.

Dear Ann Taylor Loft:
I’m sorry, you won’t be seeing me as much anymore. I hate to sever our ties, but I will VERY HAPPILY hopefully be wearing scrubs to work for the rest of my life, and will no longer need to buy your $70 cardigans. Thanks though, it’s been real.

Dear Colorado:
Please snow uncontrollably for the next three months for the sole reason of pissing Ally Rice off enough that she moves back to Texas sooner.

Dear Ally:
Please get tired of Colorado. And while you’re at it, bring my family back with you. The cat shirts, P3s, and I are waiting patiently for your arrival.

Dear Osama:
Although I know it is not Christian-like to celebrate in a person’s death, I am quite satisfied in the fact that you are no longer around to send creepy videos and organize terrorism.

Dear Chuck Norris:
Glad to have you back from Pakistan. Sidenote: “MERICA!

Dear Sonic:
Thank you for your ice. That is all.

Dear Kanakuk:
Thanks for providing me with the opportunity to meet awesome people like Ally Rice, Nika Spaulding, Betty Atwell, and my approximately 40 campers that I am obsessed with stalking on facebook even though they probably don't know that. Not to mention the realization that I can actually survive in 120 degree temperatures at 100% humidity with no air conditioning for a month.

Dear Waco:
Thank you for uncontrollable breakouts due to your terrible water. Thank you for your crime rate. Most of all, thank you for all the Branch Davidian jokes I have gracefully accepted since my arrival here five and a half years ago. You’re a gem of a city, and surprisingly enough, I really am going to miss you. Actually, I’m mostly going to miss the H-E-B majal in Hewitt and 3 spoons fro-yo. Oh, and the occasional Bush’s chicken. Nom nom nom.

Dear Shreveport Regional Airport:
Please lower your prices for airfare from Shreveport to San Antonio from May 30th to August 4th. Thanks.

Dear Meredith Smith:
Do you realize that we are about to live in different cities for the first time in our entire lives? This is not okay…

Dear A.D.D.:
Please subside long enough for me to at least studying a tiny bit for my finals. You have so far already distracted me into writing this blog, and now, thanks to you I am already distracted from blogging and trying to figure out how to wrap this up to head on to something else. God bless, I cannot sit still!!!

Dear abs ball and 10lb weights:
Thank you for waiting so patiently to be used… all year.

Dear Lady Gaga:
I watched your interview with Ellen, and am only more convinced that you are the weirdest person alive.

Dear Ellen:
Be my gay best friend?

Dear Jesus:
Thanks for dying for us and then raising from the dead to reclaim your title of most awesome person/God in both the known and unknown universe. You rock, and I'm fairly certain that I wouldn't be writing this blog without you, so thanks again for letting me wake up today.

Dear Bachelorette:
Please start soon so that I can enjoy watching “the most dramatic season in Bachelor/Bachelorette history” yet again. I haven't had anything to make fun of for months, and this mounting sarcasm needs an outlet.

Dear Dr. Ritter:
FIVE powerpoints on this final?? SERIOUSLY? I've gotta stop blogging and start studying now.

Dear readers:
Thank you for reading this blog.

Megan