Plagiarize & Run: The Love Letter Bandit

A girl got a love letter from her boyfriend.
It read
“Darling, I think of you all the time.
Your naturally wavy blond hair, brown eyes,
prominent cheek bones, scar on your cheek,
slim build, five feet two inches height, and
a hundred and ten pounds frame.” Her roommate told her that was an unusually worded love letter and asked her what he did for a living. She said, “Oh! He has a great job. He writes
reports of missing persons for the police.”

People often wonder what is going on in my head. Personally, I think this is a dangerous activity and those whose curiousity has been peaked should proceed with caution. Periodically, I have some sort of relationship drama and it seems like I am always the one to try and smooth things over which is always completely exhausting. This is usually accomplished through my creative writing skills. I believe it was that scratch n' sniff certificate presented to me in the 3rd grade commending my excellent writing skills that inspired me. So, the other day somebody asked me to read something that I wrote. I was short on time so I decided to print it out for them, thinking that they would just read it in front of me and then I could recycle it, but NO! They took off with it like a dog in heat with a cheap stuffed animal won at the fair via a game of duck hunt. They knew they had knowledge in their possession. I wondered what on earth they planned on doing with it and then it hit me. They were going to use it to mislead some naive girl into believing that they were sensitive and knew how to put their thoughts and feelings in writing. Right...Written by a man? The moral of the story is: Ladies, if you receive an awesome love letter from your man, it is not random or planned. I wrote that manifesto! Ask any of my ex-boyfriends. Any thoughts that I put into writing practically turn into a graduate thesis.

Cupcake Wrecks & Adventures

One treacherous morning I woke up and discovered that I was suffering from a variety of innovation illnesses. I attribute this to the unhealthy corporate environment that I work in. I knew that if I left this unchecked, that it could be fatal. There was a skinny bitch inside of me dying to get out and I asked myself what to do. The answer finally came to me. Feed her a cupcake! That 25 watt dim bulb in my head started to flicker. At that moment I decided to pursue cake decorating. Who did I think I was channeling? The Ace of Cakes?! Right. I dreamt that this would be my winning lottery ticket, because playing the lottery has worked out so well for me in the past. So, I embarked on 4 weeks of a beginning cake decorating class. It was a tragic mess from day one. I constantly found myself smothered, covered and scattered in sugary, buttercream icing. The worst part was being upstaged by set of elementary school aged twins. Each class, I envisioned the scary twin girls from "The Shining". I was so relieved when the class was over. It was like an experiment in fattening terror and I was ready to be set free and drop a dress size. The coup de grace occurred when I volunteered to make my sister cupcakes for her birthday. Ever heard the term "hot mess"? Certainly you have if you have ever indulged in being any form of a fag hag. I made the cupcakes with baking mix from Trader Joe's. DISCLAIMER: I love Trader Joe's, however, it is not good for everything. These cupcakes turned out to be biscuits with icing. I knew that if I let them harden, they could possibly make good dog treats for Halloween, if that. The morning after my sister's birthday, she facebooked me and told me that she ate the cupcakes for breakfast and that they were good enough to eat. Well, in the movie "Alive", circa 1993, they thought humans were good enough to eat. On a positive note, my apartment smelled of cakes for a month which helped overpower the odor of the cat litter that I forgot to change. Oops. Sorry Izabella.

Facebook's Power To Sour Relationships

At exactly 2:05 pm on Friday, July 17, 2009, my relationship with the person I thought I was going to spend the rest of my life with was in danger and it happened right before everyone's eyes on facebook and nobody did anything to save it. I was baited by not one, but two unknowns and I was fooled hook, line and sinker. I felt as though I was smoldering in a fiery trainwreck and nobody was there to help me. Where was my knight in shining armor? I felt betrayed, exposed, and unprotected. Sure, I should have never given in to such unruly gossip, but if "ifs" and "buts" were candy and nuts we would all have a Merry Christmas.

Beware: Skulls, Crossbones & All:
The facebook wall is the worst weapon of all. Plain and simple. People write some really reckless shit that you would rather not have the world see. Aside from that, there are some really jealous people out there.

Important Rule:
DO NOT POST negative things about your significant other. In the heat of the moment, avoid the temptation to blast your significant other or say something embarrassing about them through your status or wall postings.

Bottom Line:
The key to saving a relationship is to get off facebook. That shit ruins lives.

A Woman Is Wise And Strong Who Recognizes She Has A Problem And Seeks Out A Solution Rather Than See The Problem And Stick Her Head In The Sand

I believe that every relationship rests on three legs: accepting, supporting and challenging. That's really it, isn't it? You want your relationships to be grounded on accepting each other as you are. On supporting each other through the inevitable ups and downs. On challenging each other to become more, to grow, to flourish. You have to figure out which one of these is the more difficult one for you, and how are you going to practice it.