Open Letters…Again

It's been awhile since I've written an open letter but I constantly write them in my head, things I can't say to the actual person/corporate entity/personified noun - but what I really want to say.

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Dear Wal-Mart,

We kinda have a love/hate relationship. You love my money and I hate shopping there. While I appreciate the "upgrades" you made during the recent remodel, with your expanded cake decorating section and soda selection, there is one thing I just can't handle. It's those dang automated video ads.
Keep in mind that 95% of the time I roam your overly-bright aisles, I am just there because it's late, we're out of milk/bread/chocolate (you know…the essentials), and I'm too tired/stressed/lazy to drive the two miles to my preferred grocery store. It is in this less-than attentive state that I happen to walk by one of the many screens you've placed that are set to play commercials for the myriad items in that location. Nothing about the perky voice or enthusiastic advertising should be threatening but I never fail to jump out of my skin.
And dude, I'm already there and not gonna leave without spending at least $50 so do you really have to keep pushing even more things I don't need? Save it for early in the morning, when I need something exciting to get me out of bed, like the new and improved scent of fabric softener or yet another form of sugared carbohydrates.

I hate you,
Jessica G.

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Dear Soccer,

At first it was pretty cool being your mom, like earning a merit badge or leveling up on the video game of life.
But these early morning games on Saturday? Not cool.
Fix it or so help me, next season I will put him in horseback riding lessons.

Not even kidding when it comes to my sleep,
Jessica G.

Choke Gag Hack Spit

Dear Soda Manufacturers,

When I was a kid, I thought a mint soda would be awesome. My older, wiser sister pointed out that we already had something similar in mouthwash. Fair enough. But what about mint chocolate? Genius! I was baffled that developers hadn't jumped all over this golden idea.

However, I have decided that a mint chocolate soda is a terrible, horrible, no good, very bad idea. After extensive market research (in which I accidentally drank from my soda after eating a Thin Mint cookie), the resulting taste is actually quite yucky. Please don't do it. Ever.

That is all.

Bubbliest regards,

The consumer who has now made it a personal rule to only enjoy the loveliness of Girl Scout cookies whilst holding a glass of milk

Open Letters Because I'm Feeling The Need to Emote

Dear Local Radio Station,

I am a faithful listener and have been for some time. Your station is currently number two on my car's settings, wedged between a slightly more modern station and talk radio, literally between rock and a hard place.

However, I do have a complaint: the Christmas carols that have taken over the airwaves since last week. I am not emotionally ready for the Christmas music. As much as I love hearing Michael McClean's Forgotten Carols and Mannheim Steamroller's Christmas, I'd rather not just yet. I am still mourning the loss of my beloved Halloween decorations (especially that spider by my front door that drops down and completely freaks out visitors...oh, the joys of seeing them duck and scream upon entry to my home). It's just...too soon.

Please forgive my absence. Know that I will return once we're done with the turkey and I'm in need of spiritual support to face the mall crowds when shopping.

Yours...but not until December,

Jessica G.

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Dear National Novel Writing Month,

Oh, how I love you! You are the reason I look forward to autumn every year. (Well, you and Halloween.) There's nothing more thrilling than watching my word count climb and my characters come to life. It's fun creating new ways to torture and break the hearts of the otherwise innocent figments of my imagination. I've immersed myself in your literary madness for the past six years and have jumped in with keyboard blazing again this year.

But it's Week Two, my precious NaNoWriMo. And Week Two is when the plot holes start to gape, characters fall flat, and I end up feeling like a talentless hack whose time is better spent hiding in my closet, chewing on my hair, then attempting to write a novel.

And? The grocery story is out of Diet Pepsi with Vanilla. How am I supposed to tap into my muse without the proper caffeinated libations? If it weren't for all the leftover Halloween candy, I'd be ready to toss my laptop in the kids' bedroom, where it would be assimilated by the mass of toys, clothes, and lost socks until we start spring cleaning.

Yours but please remind me the difference between "effect" and "affect" before I go mad,

Jessica G.

Breaking Up Is Hard To Do

Dear Rolled Fondant,

We've known each other for years. While I've always been a little intimidated by you, I can't deny your beauty. There's nothing quite like the look of a fondant covered cake and you know it. You never tried to make things easier on me, getting crusty after just a little inattention. I really worked on our relationship. I went to classes. I practiced at home. I attempted cakes I never thought I'd make. And slowly, slowly...things got better. I thought I was happy. But Fondant, I just couldn't get past one major issue: you are yucky. Most people will admire your good looks but then peel you right off when it comes time to eat the cake. And there goes all that money and effort, right into the trash. There had to be a better way.

And I found it. Marshmallow Fondant whispered in my ear, flirting with me, but could I really ignore all the agony I went through with you, with the history we had together? The answer was a resounding "yes." Yes, I could. Not only was Marshmallow Fondant so much easier on my wallet, but he was putty in my hands, bending to my will almost gleefully. And he was a smooth one. Just like you. But he's sweet. You were never that way to me, Rolled Fondant, and frankly, I deserve better.

So farewell, my expensive, temperamental, icky friend. I am so much happier now.

Hasta la vista, baby,

Jessica G.

(Wanna see Marshmallow Fondant in action? Go check out my cake blog!)

Grumbly Randomness

I've been grumpy lately (just ask my family). It's never a good idea to post on your blog when you're feeling grumpy, unless, of course, you intend to offend scores of readers in the process. Not like I have scores of readers but you get the idea.

Here are a couple open letters that I didn't post:

• Letter to the kids who thought it would be cool to toss around a football in the church. And not in the gym! In the RELIEF SOCIETY ROOM!!
• Letter to whoever wrote the lyrics and music to the latest song that's burning a hole in my head. I don't even like the singer!
• Letter to the makers of my hyper-defective smoke alarm that insists on declaring the house ablaze whenever I use my oven.

Let's all agree that my deleting these posts was for the best.

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And I'm a crazy person for the sixth year in a row. Heck, most of you already know that, right? I'm participating in National Novel Writing Month for the sixth straight year. I'm working on the last third of the book I did in 2008 and then I rewriting another book I started in March. The first one is a twisted tale of werewolves and demon possession. The second is a light-hearted, fluffy LDS romance. And I tell ya, it is not even possible to work on both of them in the same day. I wrote one chapter for the werewolves, had nothing left in me, so I switched over to the cuteness of my LDS character. I then wrote possibly the darkest chapter in that entire book. And? I'm not quite where I need to be with word count! ARRRRGGGGG!!!!

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This past weekend I nearly killed myself, quite literally. I had another ward activity on Friday night (for which I only got one negative comment - and that was from someone who won the cook off!). Then Saturday, I had Boo's 7th birthday party. I wish I had been in a better mood for the festivities...but Boo and her friends had a fantastic time so it was very much worth it. Well, except for the part when one of the moms, knowing I'm a cake decorator, asked to see the cake. I was rather embarrassed to show her how I had completely coped out. Hey, you try decorating nine cakes after investing your entire heart and soul (and the other half of your brain) into an event for 300 people.

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So with all the insanity lately, I think I deserve something nice and relaxing...like this:


Annette from The Lion's Tale is giving one away AND I WANT IT!! It's a massaging footrest from Accent Furniture. So don't go over there and read her blog. Don't comment to enter to win. And don't fall in love with her clever, witty wordiness. I'm telling ya...just don't do it!

Open Letters To People At The Pool

Dear smokin' hot mom in the bikini,

You are gorgeous. Your four kids are adorable, too. After all you've done, you deserve to wear that bikini and wear it well.

But that strand of bling hanging from your bellybutton? Now, that's just rubbing it in.

Sincerely,
Chubby lady who is gonna go hide in the deep end.

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Dear Male Population,

I'd like to send out a collective, but none-the-less enthusiastic, THANK YOU for just saying No to Speedos. I didn't see a single one in our many forays into aquatic pastimes.

You guys are awesome!

Sincerely,
Mom who doesn't want to explain some things to her young children just yet...

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Dear Baby,

Seriously, kid...the pouting has got to stop. You floated around in liquid for nine months, surely you can tolerate one hour.

Sincerely,
Your mother who is beginning to think that you madly clinging to me in the pool is not quite as adorable as it once was

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Dear Facebook,

Darn you, Facebook! Darn you and all your long-lost connections, addictive games, and silly quizzes! If it weren't for you, I would have spent more time at the pool.

Sincerely,
Someone who really needs a tan

An Open Letter From Boo

Dear Mean Boy,

You are not the boss of Seven Peaks and you are not the boss of the Tadpole Pool. Girls can play wherever they want. You can't tell me to leave. You are a mean, mean kid. I don't care if you are seven and I am only six. That doesn't make you the boss.

Sincerely,
One mad little Boo

P.S.
It's not a crocodile. It's an alligator. It's nose is too big to be a crocodile. You should spend less time being mean and more time reading books.


(Seven Peaks is our local water park and the Tadpole Pool is a kids' pool with smaller slide, shallow water and a few floating creatures to play with. Apparently, a kid was telling all the girls that they couldn't play on the floating alligator. Boo is much like her mother and does not tolerate being bossed around by stupid boys.)

(And I didn't know what the difference was between alligators and crocodiles...had to look it up online to make sure she was right before I posted this. Yup. She's right.)

An Open Letter Because I'm Feeling Irritable

Dear Neighbor,

Your phone is ringing. And ringing. AND RINGING. Answer it, already! If you don't want to answer it, either turn off the ringer or shut your window. That phone is insanely loud and annoying and my baby is trying to sleep. And who is calling you every two minutes? (Yes, I'm timing it...it's every two freaking' minutes!) They need to get a clue already.

Signed,
The person who is going to throw a brick through your open window!
(Okay, that's not true. I'd never throw a brick...)
The person who will hurl a dozen pink-frosted cupcakes through your open window

Open Letters From The Cruise

We're back! Had an amazing time and didn't burn myself to a crisp out in all that sun. I'll give you the details over the next few days but here are a couple letters to people on the cruise that just couldn't wait...


Dear Chick in the White Bikini,

Yes, you are attractive. Yes, you have a lovely figure. But was it really necessary to hike up a 600 foot waterfall in a thong? Seriously?

Yours,
Fat White Chick a few dozen feet below you and not enjoying the view



Dear Jerk in the Dining Room,

Looks like you are having a good time, with your drink and your mild sunburn. And perhaps it is the alcohol that befuddles your mind but in case you didn't read the brochure, misplaced your schedule, didn't hear the repeated announcements, failed to notice the many signs, and didn't listen to your waiter last night or during lunch and breakfast today...tonight is the second formal evening for dinner. You won't be allowed into the dining room in your shorts and ball cap. Verbally berating the tiny little hostess who won't let you in is not going to make things better. It just makes you look like a uncouth cretin.

Sincerely,
Person who took the time to shower before coming to dinner because I'm fancy

P.S.
Having your slightly less creepy wife sneak you in later when the hostess isn't there is so not cool. I hope someone spat on your lobster...wish it could have been me.

Letters to Sonic

Dear Cute Little Sonic Car Hop,

I appreciate you bringing my delicious Diet Dr Pepper with cherry and chocolate. It was almost the highlight of my day, only to be outdone by the scheduling of my upcoming c-section. I realize that you are very young (and skinny) and may not understand life other than what you've heard from your teenage friends and the media. So I'd like to explain some things to you.

As you stated when you handed me the drink, you had never heard of this combination before. Understandable. I have extremely good taste. Diet Dr Pepper with cherry and chocolate is not an unusual request. In fact, Dr Pepper canned this very product during last year's holiday season. It was not, in fact, a pregnancy craving, as you must have surmised by your glance to my large belly and your startled "Oh!" Not a craving; just a really good drink. It's not like I ordered a Caffeine Free Mountain Dew with marshmallows and pickle juice. Although...that might not be too bad, either...

Yours truly,
The Pregnant Lady who orders weird drinks because they taste good, not because she's having some obscure craving

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My Precious Sonic,

Why do you tempt me so? It's bad enough that I keep change in the car just so I can come visit you during Happy Hour and gaze upon your back-lit menu's beauty. Must you make me drive circles around the parking lot until the clock turns to 2 p.m.? Really, I'm probably spending all the Happy Hour savings on gas. Can't you just rewind your clocks ever so slightly? Pretty please? I'll even help you! Provided they aren't up to high or are too heavy or require a Phillips head screwdriver because I can never seem to find one of those when I need it. But really, I'd help!

Lovingly,
Your somewhat dizzy customer

P.S.
Please tell your perky little teenage car hops that there is nothing wrong with ordering cherry and chocolate add-ins...if only they'd try it, they'd love it, too.