Dear Money,

I would like to make amends. I feel that I have mistreated you horribly and I'm sorry for that. I know that you haven't been coming around lately, and I think it's because of the way I've been acting toward you.

You see, it's not that I don't like you. It's that I REALLY like you. I know it doesn't seem like it much. I mean, I'm always giving you away and as soon as you return I just do it all over again. You are probably wondering what the heck is wrong with me.

Ok, so here's the deal. I have loved other things more than you lately and I want to say I'm sorry for that. When you asked me to put your needs first, it really made me think about what that means. I mean, I guess I can't have my $50 dollar face cream and eat it too. Well, mostly because it would taste horrible and I don't have poison control on my quick dial, but also because you are more important than that. Really, you are. You are so attractive (especially in the hundred dollar form. You know I've always had a weakness for balding men). You are so reliable (I mean, no matter what situation I'm in, you always seem to help out somehow.) And you have such a strong testimony (really, to tattoo your religious conviction on your backside is impressive to say the least.)

So, Money, I will treat you with more respect and love. I will not throw you aside for any cheap little slut of a purse, or any hussy pair of shoes. You mean so much more to me than that, baby. And I'll start by folding you up nicely and placing you in a safe place away from all predatory spending.

Now, with that said, I have to confront your brethren on a few matters: Change, you have got to get yourself together. You can't be hanging out all over the place and expect respect from me. You might have been of value years ago, but now you are just shiny little fountain toys as far as I'm concerned, and your behavior just reaffirming that fact. If you want to be taken seriously, you must gather yourself together and unite as a greater whole. If not, you're just going to end up laundry money.

I think I've said all I need to say on this matter. I hope you pennies especially paid attention.

Ok, well I expect to be seeing more of all of you on Friday. I will be anxiously waiting your arrival, and you have every right to call me out if I head straight to Nordy's like last time. I promise I will listen this time.

Love,

Angie

Dear Swine Flu,

I'm am so upset at you. You are such a jerk. I can't believe you'd wait until I am FINALLY going on a vacation to show up. WHY???? Did you talk to 9/11? Did he tell you about how he decided to arrive ONE MONTH after I moved to NY?

What's the deal?

Ok, listen. I'll strike a deal with you. If you can call up Tornado, Earthquake, Tsunami, Plane Crash, Terrorist Attack, Cancer, and your cousins Bird Flu, Mad Cow, and SARS, and let them know to stay out of my way in November, then you can ravage Mexico with as much force as you would like for the month of May.

Oh, and can you call up Unemployment, Car Crash, and World War III as well?

Thanks.

Love,

Angie

Dear Self,

Welcome back.

Love,

Angie

STANDARD CHARTERED BANK
Branch-Dansoman Branch
PO Box DC 215, Accra,
Opp., The Comm. Mkt.

Att:

With due respect, I introduce myself to you for a better relationship. I am M
R. LUTHER KOM,CHIEF AUDITOR of STANDARD CHARTERED BANK OF GHANA.
Your contact is courtesy of Business online network via Internet as I decided
to contact you for this beneficial transaction that is 100% risk free.

During our quarterly annual auditing, I discovered the sum of (US$36M)THIRTY S
IX MILLION UNITED STATES DOLLARS in a dormant account belonging to Mr. CHARLES
NEWMAN,a German international businessman who died along with his family in
the November 5th,2004 plane crash in Abidjan west Africa. Our investigations r
evealed no survival or NEXT OF KIN/RELATIONS for claims as we have long been e
xpecting someone to forward applications for claims as it applies to our banki
ng regulations.
Information / verifications from reliable sources confirmed that his supposed
NEXT OF KIN died with him in the crash.

However, I kept this information (SECRET) confidential within my jurisdiction
to enable us submit claims and transfer this fund through trustworthy person w
hom we shall present to our bank as the BONAFIDE NEXT OF KIN to the deceased.
We intend to credit this fund into any of your nominated (designated) offshore
bank account for investments.

Meanwhile, all domestic arrangements for claims has been put in place awaiting
your acceptance to participate.
I will give you directives and all needed information as soon as I receive y
our positive response.

Kindly understand that we could not carry out this on our own as based on the
simple facts that we are civil servants and not allowed to operate foreign acc
ount and, it will raise eyebrows on our side in terms of transfer being staff
of the bank. Moreover, this fund belongs to a foreigner and demands same as ne
xt of kin to claim it. Hence need outside contact for a successful operation.

I will offer you 20% of the total sum as commission, I will invest 75% of ou
r share in your country provided it is profit oriented. 5% of the total fund w
ill be set aside to re-emburse all expenses to be incurred in the course of r
unning this transaction such as telephone and other minor expenses. I am assur
ing you of a smooth and successful transaction provided you display maturity
and observe confidentiality.

And it will interest you to know that Ghana Commersial Bank(Apex) will approve
credit of this fund into your account as contract payment to abstain you from
all queries regarding the source (originality) of this fund and will provide
you (beneficiary) with contractual (data) details to certify your bank or gov
ernment if the need arises. Therefore, be kind to clarify the following for my
consideration:


1. Can your account accommodate this fund in your local bank without governmen
t intervention or do you have an account outside your country where you may co
nsider safe for this fund ?.
2. What are the taxation in your country like as I desire a low/free tax zone?
.
3. What are the interest rates on long/short te rm fixed deposit in your local
banks?.
4. What other lucrative investments would you suggest as I intend banking, rea
l est ate and hotels if they are good business venture in your Country?.
5. Can you be able to make residential documents and purchase a house for me a
nd my family to relocate and settle in your country after the transaction?
6. How old are you?
7. What kind of business do you do?/occupation
8.What is your marital statue at present

Kindly give me your telephone and fax number for more efficient communication
and reply me at my alternative email address. mr.lutherkom@yahoo.com.

Looking forward to your anticipated urgent response.

Best regards,
LUTHER.
AUDITOR GENERAL.

Dear Luther,

I am beloved of your offer to better our relationship through opportunities involving money transactions. It will interest you to know that I am full of not many pennies or even nickles, respectively. I fully anticipate and urge a complete lack of full response of this very urgent and (SECRET) matter of the (US$36M) THIRTY SIX MILLION UNITED STATES DOLLARS.

Love to you, your camel, and your BONAFIDE NEXT OF KIN,

Angie

Dear Santa,

I realize that it's February now, but I have a few things that I really need and I don't know if you've ever done this before, but I was just wondering if maybe you could make a special exception just this once...

Could you please just send Rudolf with a pair of snow boots, a new pair of jeans (skinny please. I'm thinking J Brand Pencil Fit), a haircut/highlight, and some dental work. I know those last few are a bit of a struggle, but gift certificates are always available.

Oh, and one more thing. My juicer is on it's last leg. Can you make sure the new one can juice wheatgrass?

Thanks so much.

Love,

Angie

Dear Mr. Creeps,

I don't quite know what to say. You totally duped me. The Salvation Army outfit and bell made me think you were a good guy. I mean, why would a Mr. Creeps take a job standing in front of Smith's grocery store out in the cold, ringing a bell for charity? And I suppose the Holiday season has a way of numbing the defenses and allowing a person to skip their normal critical thought processes.

You see, while walking through the parking lot, I saw you staring at me. I saw your eyes pan over me, but I was distracted by the sound of your bell asking for money to save the world from hunger and hardship. So I walked by you and gave a hint of a smile, then continued on to buy my bread and butter, not giving it a second thought.

But, the same thing happened on the way out of the store. I saw you, back turned to the same people you were supposed to be ringing your bell at, staring at me. Again, I let the corners of my mouth turn upwards, not really knowing what else to do. You're the Salvation Army man, right? You wouldn't be giving me the eye, checking out my goods, right? I mean, you're practically related to Santa Claus.

And as I passed you by, I heard something. Something quiet, but clear:

"Bye Bye Baby."

Bye Bye Baby?

Baby?

You're getting nothing but coal this year.

Love,

Angie

Dear Mrs. Cutiepants,

When I was 17 I had a boyfriend who thought Pamela Anderson was the most beautiful thing alive. I was not surprised, as I went through high school at the prime of Baywatch, if there ever was such a thing. Personally, I always thought she was too fake and, well booby- if you know what I mean. And I cringed at the thought of my flat-chested body being compared to such a form. When Baywatch would come on, I would try to shut it off or look away, but I had a secret fascination with getting a good look at what thousands of dollars of surgery really looked like. I grew to hate this woman who had made herself an icon for superficiality and a target for objectification and sexual fantasy.

Then one day I had a dream. In this dream we were best friends, and she was really funny and totally cool. We were rescuing a dolphin together and when we were done I couldn't help but like her. It was like, when I met the girl behind the boobs, all the jealousy and resentment went away and she was just a regular girl (though a bit misguided) like me and I loved her.

Well, you are not made of silicon boob, but you were on a billboard the first time I visited Provo and, well, it's never fun to see your new boyfriend's ex-girlfriend on a billboard. You were up there, high in the sky, blown up to a million percent, and smiling like an angel down on us as we drove by. I about called the whole thing off right there, Mrs. Cutiepants. Because it's hard enough to come in on a possible rebounding boy, but to find out that the girl is a Mrs. Cutiepants? Not fun. Devastating. Nauseating. And a little bit like the feeling when you peed yourself in kindergarten and you didn't want anyone to know so you just smiled and crossed your legs but you really want to try to figure out a way to get some dry pants soon because it's really uncomfortable. Remember that? Yeah, well I hear that happened to some people.

And it didn't help that everyone in his circle of friends who knew you would somehow think it was perfectly appropriate to tell me how "hot" you are. Why they didn't just round up a crowd, stick a big number 2 on my forehead and yell "You're ugly! Hahahahaha!" and then throw things at me and kick me in the stomach, I'm not really sure. I think there are laws against doing that kind of thing.

Anyhow, so you are pretty. So? So What?

Well, that's what my secure, adult self says. I mean, there are a lot of pretty girls in the world, and that doesn't mean they are a threat or that they are worth one bit more than me. And then I recite the Young Women Theme and bake some cookies for my Visit Teachies.

But the other, ahem...larger part of me (we'll call her Mrs. Green), well... that part is not so nice and secure. She thinks you're too pretty for your own good and she has a bone to pick with the Big Man Upstairs with his uneven distribution of the pretty gene.

And, well, it was Mrs. Green that happened to be the one who found your comment on my husband's blog yesterday. And, well, she wasn't pleased. Especially at the whole fake oblivious we're like totally friends and have been the whole time, right? vibe, which somehow excuses the fact that you are a married woman posting on your married ex-boyfriend's blog. But, hey, acting *cute* and *so friendly* and just a little bit *dumb* allows girls to get away with a lot I guess. It even allows them to get away with ADDING HIS BLOG TO YOUR BLOGROLL? Like you guys didn't have an awkward breakup where you pretty much avoided him and broke his heart? Like you didn't know that you broke his heart, and that he would have kept dating you?! Like you don't know that wives of such victims would be jealous?

Oh, Mrs. Cutiepants, you have so much to learn about this world. You see, there are Mrs. Greens everywhere. And you can't go around being so *friendly* to other women's husbands. You see, the correct way to rekindle friendships with old boyfriends who are now married is to .... well... I guess to not do it at all. And if you absolutely have to, then you might want to befriend the wife a bit first... you know, to test the waters a bit. To see how...green it is.

Well, I did a little bit of blog stalking, of course, and found that you are not only a Mrs. Cutiepants, but you also go by the name Littlemissperfect:

An elementary school teacher?
A supercute house?
A photographer?
A *$%#@&*-*%^@*!* mission to Africa?!!!

You're killing me.

The thing is, while I was browsing through your cyber-life, looking at your cute pictures of the kids you teach, the Africans you reached out to, and your cute short haircut, I also experienced a wave of nostalgia... that I couldn't... quite... place...

...something to do with a dolphin...

...and silicon...

OH!!!!!!

Oh-oh-oh!

I know!

I went to marine world once in silicon valley! That's it.

Anyway, I hate you.

Love,

Angie