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.

Day 15: Fast cars in my dream.

It's funny that this day of 30 days fell when it did. I have weird dreams that don't mean anything all the time, but last night I dreamt that I stole Shelbie Jude's car. I dreamt that I couldn't drive it very well and that all the other cars were going too fast.

Do you think that this might be a parallel to my life? Sometimes I feel like I'm not doing very well and that everyone else is good at what they are doing and they are flying along going very fast.

In other news, I think I might possibly go to Sadies, and I think I might possibly ask that boy to go with me. Maybe. Should I? What do you think?

Everyone is weird.

All my love,

Addy

P.S. Dear Anonymous commenter who hated J. Crew Spring 2011 collection:

Okay.

Love, me.

Pumpkins are vegetables. I think.

What's better than dropping a giant pumpkin?

Dropping a giant pumpkin on a car, that's what.

That's also what I am doing tonight. Everybody be excited.

Eat your fruits and vegetables. But not your meat.

All my love, Addy