I'm being a little lazy and well giving myself pops at the same time here, so to get the linky to do this yourself, go to my "other" blog (here) and you can read my more appropriate saner letters, as well as find out where this all started!
I'll be posting another post later tonight (I think) with my list o' resolutions for the year, but for now, my Dear So and So letters for your reading entertainment!
I'd very much like you to stay any color other than gray. If you'd be so kind as to cooperate, I'll stop drowning you in icky smelling stuff every six to eight weeks.
You're not going anywhere, you don't need bags.
I actually kinda like you, sorry for poking that hole it you, but you look cuter now.
Hope you're loving the lip gloss because you and the Sahara should have nothing in common.
Dear Crows Feet:
Do you get the irony here? Those little feet looking things belong on birds, not my face.
Hope you're liking all the bling I've gotten for you. We might get more soon.
Really? Do you have to do the aging thing too? You can stop, and get a little longer and more elegant if you'd like. Promise I wouldn't mind.
Someone told me once you can tell a persons age by their hands before anything else. You're messing up my agenda. Please stop so I can continue to plead 35.
I have only this to say. The world is in front of you, not in your peripheral. Pay attention.
More to love isn't always a good thing. We'll be working on that this year.
Your childbearing years are over, you can return to your regularly scheduled width now.
Come back? Please?
Okay so you're kinda short and you get hairy way too often for my tastes, but if you promise not to start hoarding everything I eat, I'll shave you more often. Promise.
Okay so you've been comfy in your cow slippers for most of this year. Be prepared, we're gonna get wild this upcoming year. I'm talking heels baby. Prepare yourselves.
I know I didn't moisturize you like I should, but if you'll just cooperate with me now and play nice, I'll buy you any kind of moisturizer you want and we can play together every day. Twice a day if you want.
I'll make you a deal. Stop being persnickety and creaking and generally being a pain and we'll talk about some more of that pretty artwork you like so much.
I know I've put you through a lot, but hey I'm an adrenaline junkie. You can't tell me you didn't enjoy it while it lasted. It would be wicked awesome if you'd stop with the pain and get with the program.
See Dear Shoulder letter above.
I got you the soft keyboard so you would stop complaining. I try to take care of you. You get really long and pretty, then for some reason you decide to revolt. Let's work on that this year. I mean really, hands have to deal with the housework too and you don't see them breaking.
I promise I'm working with body to make you look proportional again. I miss the hats too.
Get over it. Strikes are for people, not body parts. I'm not going to stop using you just because you complain.
I know you've missed your friend, but I promise I'm going to make an effort to set up more playdates for you two this year. (somewhat edited for well, edited.)
As much as I complain about you, you're okay for an old chick. We've been through a lot together over the years and I know your body is battered and bruised and scarred to show for those good times when we were crazy and did stupid things, but you know what? Every one of those scars tells a story and reminds us of stuff we did, good and bad. As much as I'd like for us to be twenty something again, it ain't happening so we'll just have to deal with it. Make the most of what we've got. Your husband and daughter think you're beautiful and I'm really glad that you've learned to see that beauty inside even if you don't always see it on the outside. We're gonna be together forever, so let's just do this thing. Have fun, stay young at heart and live every day like it's our last. If we get a few more scars and a few more pains for our efforts, well, it's worth it in the end. Take care of me and I'll do my best to take care of you.