Dear hair: Yes, I have changed colours again, this time, from black-blue to a strange blend between orange and honey. The blue was frankly probably closer to nature, but I like it, so tough patooties. I do, however, want to apologize for frying you once again. I figure that I have permeated you with noxious chemicals at least 120 times. That's gotta be a hard life. I expect you not to fall out of my scalp, to grow at a reasonable rate, to be shiny and beautiful and luxurious, and meanwhile, I treat you like crap. I assault you with blades, I cut off your oxygen supply with tight elastics, I encourage Jason to yank you from time to time, I suffocate you with goop, and if you make the slightest mistake, I hide you under an itchy hat. I just wanted you to know that I do appreciate your efforts. You've been good to me, hair, and I'm sorry for taking you for granted.
Dear winter: Fuck off. Haha, okay, okay, what I really mean is: I'm sorry for giving you such a bad name. You're just doing your job, and I give you a hard time from October through April, every year. This is probably just a result of my own insecurity: goodness knows I look dumb in hats, and no one looks their best with chapped lips and dry, scaly skin. I know this is not your fault, and I take my anger out unfairly on you. I'll try to ease up off you if you try to stop snowing by Easter, okay?
Dear stranger on the street: You're probably cursing my very existing right now, but I swear that when I gave you those bad directions, I didn't know they were bad. The truth is, I get turned around easily, and though I've lived here all my life, I still don't know street names or mileage estimates, or which way is north. If you were my friend, you would know better than to ask directions of me, but you are just an innocent stranger, and you asked advice from the wrong girl. Next time, take a map.
Dear Tim Horton's: I know you're trying your best, but this promotion is lame. Rrrrollll up the Rim again? Aren't you paying any new marketing people? You are so not getting your money's worth! Sorry to have to tell you this, because usually I'm a loyal customer, but after last year's debacle, I just cannot stand by and let this happen again. There are GM Envoys to win, home theatre systems, cash and food prizes. You claim that 1 in 8 will win, and most people have free donuts and coffees for all of their rolling. Last year, despite having rolled up 2800 rims, I got 0 prizes. You're a big phony Tim Hortons, and I'm sorry, but I am not participating again this year. As a wise man once said: "There's an old saying in Tennessee — I know it's in Texas, probably in Tennessee — that says, fool me once, er, um, shame on — shame on you. Fool me — you can't get fooled again."
Dear Jason: I am sorry for robbing you of your manhood once again. After your recent pummeling in darts, it's official: there is nothing that I can't beat you in.