Day 23: Little letters to the ones who make everything better.

Dear Tanner,

This blog post is special for you. You have a way of making me feel better. Mostly, I love that you left me a voicemail saying, "Call me, punk. And make a new blog post right this second or I'll kick you into next week."

Marry me?

All my love,

Addy.

Dear Mallory,

Thanks for sharing your secrets with me. Also, thanks for driving me everywhere. Remember that one time we broke into the Aubrey's car?

All my love,

Addy.

Dear Kat,

Thank you for a plethora of things - being my best friend, laughing at my stories, loving Jake Barton, obeying the law, etc. - but mostly, thank you for all the notes you've written me over the last year or two. I have all of them in a shoebox in my closet.

All my love,

Addy.

Dear Avery,

Thank you for having a cute cat named Mundi. Also, thank you for being one of the seven people who attend Lone Peak High School that I actually like in real life.

All my love,

Addy.

Dear Morgan,

Thank you for being one of three things that get me to seminary every other day. (The other two are Heid and Mal. C'est bien.)

All my love,

Addy

Dear Cache,

Thank you for being photogenic. It's also perfectly normal that I still sort of want to marry you; however, I am working on not being a stalker so that's a secret.

All my love,

Addy.

Dear Emily Luse,

Thank you for capturing Cache on camera.

All my love,

Addy.

Dear Car,

Thanks for dying on us last night. But not actually dying while he and I were alone. It's perfect fine that we still have yet to kiss.

All my love,

Addy.

Dear French Band Called Yelle That Ryan Told Me to Listen to,

Thank you for always making the song "Je Veux Tu Voir."

All my love,

Addy.

Dear Black and White Photos,

You're better than color photos.

All my love,

Addy.

Dear New Boots That Came in the Mail on Tuesday,

I don't actually care about finding love anymore because I have you. You are my favorite shoes; you are my most prized possession; you are beautiful in every way; I am in love with you, I think.

All my love,

Addy.

Dear Lady Gaga,

Thank you for recording "Born This Way." It's my favorite song to run to.

All my love,

Addy.

Dear Radical Feminist Lady Who Spoke at Journalism Conference,

'Nuff said.

All my love,

Addy.

Dear Contemporary Elitist Groupies Who Wear Sweaters and Probably Belong in Seattle,

Thank you for making me feel substantially elite whenever you speak to me.

All my love,

Addy.

Dear British Accents,

Thank you for being the sexiest thing around.

All my love,

Addy.

Dear YOU,

I love you. I love you for reading this little blog and I love you for you.

All my love, Addy.

P.S. I planned on having today (which is bandwagon day 23 - something that makes me feel better) be a sufficiently awkward/adorable picture of he and I dressed as Indians. But I don't have it yet. All the pictures are still on Emily Luse's computer. It's fine.

On the Virtues of Hayley, Noah, and Tanner.

This one's for you, guys.

Our relationship is actually rather funny, seeing as it spawned from spending too much time with my childhood friend, Harli. The first time I texted Hayley, it was after a day at the pool with Makayla and Harli and Hayley. Hayles and Makayla got in a competition to see who could stay in the icy cold pool longest, and, after and agreement that it was, in fact, a tie, Hayley got out of the pool. "I win!!" cried Makayla. And then Hayley proceeded to scream at Makayla for the better part of an hour about how they agreed it was a tie while Harli and I sat and laughed so terribly hard. (Noah: If you were not aware of how competitive Hayley is, I would break up with her now.) After that all settled down, Hayley read aloud to all of us from Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows. She was thrilled to read Harry Potter, because guess what, she'd been grounded from Harry Potter books at home for the last couple weeks. And we've chatted nearly every day since. We talk about books and boys and school and music and anything else we like. Plus, we both like words. We're very funny. And we're soul sisters.

Once, I liked Tanner. As in, like liked him. It was funny. Not that Tanner isn't gorgeous and funny and attractive, but I just think it's funny. Tanner is a very talented musician. Plus, he has great hair. Once, we tried to have a Harry Potter movie marathon (we only ended up watching the first movie) and I walked into the Mitchell's front room wearing my True Religions I had gotten for Christmas that year. Tanner exclaimed, "Oh my gosh! I think we're wearing the same jeans." Never have I laughed so hard. But don't worry. Even though I just made it sound like he's gay, he's not. Tanner kissed someone once. It was a girl. I think her name was Laura or Laurie or something like that. It was very recent, too. Perhaps they kissed in the rain. Or maybe beneath a tree. It was probably very romantic. And I'm sure Tan's a very good kisser.

And then there's Noah... Well. Once, Noah nicknamed me "Peach" at Harli and Makayla's twelfth birthday party at Jump On It. And that was the last time I saw him until the Harry Potter marathon. Over that space of two years, he hit puberty and grew some sort of (oddly attractive) mullet. And I was convinced I was in love with him. Too bad he was perfect for Hayley and Hayley was perfect for him and I was perfect for somebody else who's name has already been broadcasted across the internet one too many times. Anyway. Freshman year Noah had a funeral for his mullet. They cried and burnt the hair. (Didn't that smell absolutely terrible?) Sometimes, in awkward moments, I say, "I have a friend who had a funeral for his mullet once..." And tell the story of Noah's Mullet Funeral. And everybody laughs. Noah kicks butt at soccer. And, our birthdays are twins. Yay.

Mostly, I'm so glad I've randomly become friends with these guys. What can I say? They're the greatest kids ever.

Finally, I need you guys to read this post. [Edit: is it not pulling it up for you? Just go into the January bit and read "I'm in a mood"] It's from back in January and it's some of my worst writing ever. I hate it. I sound like a melodramatic thirteen year old. But it's about the Harry Potter marathon back in January that I keep mentioning. I met Ollie there. Me and Ollie are married now. (Okay, that was a total lie. I haven't spoken to him since. I did pet his hair once.)

Go stand in an icy cold pool, kiss Laura/Laurie/Lacey/Lamb under trees, and grow a mullet.

All my love, Addy.