Friday's Letters

Dear Apple. I am sending that greeting with a period because it's supposed to sound snarky. You are the worst and I hate you. I am so mad that my husband got up at 6am and waited in line for 2 hours to be told that "Oh! By the way... we only have the new gray iPhone 5s in stock. Apple delayed the new gold iPhone shipments until October, did you not hear the midnight announcement?" You are a big jerk. You totally did it on purpose because you can, and I hate that you have so much power. You can kick rocks.

Dear Husband, thank you for excitedly getting up at 6am to get me the new iPhone even though Apple is the worst and we hate them.

Dear Porter, you're 9 months old today! I can hardly believe you're going to be one year old in 90 days. I can't handle this. Time, you suck just as much as Apple does.

Dear Washington, thank you for remembering who you are. I was afraid that you forgot that you are not supposed to stifling hot after Labor Day. I'm over the muggy, warm weather... and it finally feels like you are, too.

Dear Brooklyn Nine-Nine, you pleasantly surprised me. You've been added to my DVR lineup.

Friday's Letters

Dear Husband, I am reminded of why I love you every single day. Sometimes, for brand new reasons. Like today... you spent a good hour on an awesome quote for our chalkboard, which you wrote out in better handwriting then most women. Well done. I'm happy to be married to someone so creative.

Dear Record Player, there's nothing better than a rainy morning in the Northwest, a hot salted caramel mocha, and William Fitzsimmons. Thank you for providing a gloriously cozy soundtrack to end the week. It was pretty much the perfect Friday morning.

Dear Pumpkin Spice M&Ms, sadly, you are not delicious. I'm going to pretend I never tried you, and just enjoy the magic of holiday candy anyway.

Dear Scentsy, I just ordered the LIFE out of you. Christmas Cottage, Pumpkin Roll, Honey Pear Cider... get in my warmer.

Dear Nordstrom Rack, I love you and my new Steve Madden wallet. I can manage $25 and multiple pockets/zippers. Oh, and the deep purple that you are is quite nice, too.

Dear Candy Crush Level 147, HAHAHAHAHAHA TOTALLY BEAT YOU. GET OUT OF MY SIGHT.

And, related, Dear 3am Teething Feedings, I'm annoyed that - in my zombielike state - I don't hesitate to spend .99 to beat the most ridiculous Candy Crush levels... because I'm partially asleep, and because husband is comatose and can't scold me for doing so. I'm ready for teething to be over. So is my bank account in the wee morning hours.

Friday's Letters

Dear Happy Hour Sushi, you are amazing. Especially on a Monday. I appreciate you getting my week off to a stellar start.

Dear Washington, thank you for two exceptionally sunny spring days this week. The rest of the world may scoff at my appreciation over blue skies in April... but unless you live here, you just couldn't possibly understand.

Dear Scentsy, thank you for making a bar that smells suspiciously like the perfume that you pump through the ventilation system in several of our favorite Las Vegas hotels. I feel like I'm on vacation in my living room -- minus the all you can eat buffets, jingling slot machines, and basically anything else that is awesome.

Dear Weddings with a 3 month old, just no.

Dear Reese's EASTER Eggs, please get out of my life.