Dear rice,
What's wrong with you? I thought we were friends, but I can't be friends with you any more if you keep doing this to me. We had, what? Twenty-eight? Years together, but in the last year and a half, things seem to have gone sour. Any time I eat you, I get crampy and my tummy hurts.
And just yesterday, you snuck up on me - you hid in the vermincelli noodles I cooked to eat with the curry I made last night. This morning when I woke up, I realized what you had done, and the pain was significant enough that I had to stay home.
I don't appreciate this, and I wish you'd given me some warning.
Unhappily,
Rebecca
Dear David Byrne,
Why did you do a cover of "Au fond du temple saint" with Rufus Wainwright? Love you, love Rufus, but... you sound like you're straining to hit some of the notes, and struggling at other times. And meanwhile, that young whipersnapper in the background sounds like he's singing circles around you. I have a love/hate relationship with this song, mostly because it's a lovely piece but the voices don't blend all that well.
You know who I'd love to hear you duet with? Cyndi Lauper. I think you two kids could kick some serious ass together.
I'm serious!
Rebecca
Dear snow in April,
*sigh* I knew you were coming, so I wasn't too surprised to see you last night. But do you have to rub in the fact I'm not going to see any crocuses or tulips up here anytime soon?
Bah!
Rebecca :(
