Applebees didn't pay me to write this post...a few open letters

Dear Applebees,

OMG! I drink a lot of iced tea, year round. And I have not had iced tea that good in a very long time. I must have the recipe...

Also, you had me at hello when the bathroom stall had a purse hook (what is it with bathroom stalls these days? Did a hook pirate come and steal them all??)

THEN, there was a door to the outdoors right by the ladies room, such that I didn't have to go back to the front where throngs were waiting with their dates for tables.

I'll be back. For the tea.

Yours,

SL

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Dear Pittsburgh,

You have stolen my heart. You know that, right? They say TCK's are of two kinds--one kind spreads shallow roots all over the place. A big wind, and they move to the next place, like a tumbleweed. Then there are the "me" type--we grow a tap root that goes all the way down. So here's the thing. You have offered up some opportunities. I need one of them to come through. You know that I will want again to be closer to family, and you may someday have to concede to my love for the beach. But for now, you are playing all your cards, with community, mentors, friends, and your trump card, geography. You know that I love that there are five ways to get to any one place. You know that I love walking mornings in Highland Park. You know that I hate moving. You might win this time. I might let you. Do me a favor, though? Start working on getting me a better paying job, and start looking for a beau. I like them tall and Christian. I don't need it to be right now (you know I have enough going on right now) but you know, in the next decade or so...

Yours, till Niagara Falls,

SL

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Dear body,

WHY? Do I not feed you well? That you must betray me monthly with the aches that remind me I could be making babies? Isn't there an on/off button? I'm not interested in having babies right now, can we dispense with the pain? PLE-ASE??? You know what I'm talking about.

I'm watching you...

SL, who is allergic to Advil, Pamprin, and all NSAIDS, including Aspirin.

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And one last peeve.

I don't know how to make it into an open letter. I am grateful for people who have THEIR picture as their Facebook profile. Hey, if you have a kid, sure, have a picture of the child in your profile picture. But don't put THEIR picture as your profile picture--are you them? Are they you? And what is the deal with wedding pictures? I'm glad you got married. But I don't really need to see your wedding dress every time I pull up your profile.

Signed,

A trying-so-very-hard
and-not-succeeding-to-not-be-peevish
single-childless-36-year-old woman.

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A woman at work this week said, that Sarah Louise, I've never seen her get upset at anyone. Humph, I giggled inside. She doesn't know me well enough. But it's nice to be thought of nicely.

Okay, I think I'm done being snarky. Here's a story about butterflies, and when I let them go yesterday at the Picture Book Picnic (our library's summer storytime.)

We set free our five Painted Lady butterflies yesterday. I did a storytime with The Very Hungry Caterpillar, The Relatives came (love Cynthia Rylant), First the Egg, and Waiting for Wings (Ehlert, very good factual info at end about butterflies). At the end, I opened the house and three went right away. The fourth one had to be coaxed, and the fifth wanted to stay on the flower we had in the house, so I lifted the flower out and it finally flew. We didn't take pictures, but it was one of those moments that you really couldn't capture on film. I will never forget it, and I bet the kids that huddled around me won't forget it, either.

Go hug someone. Or a pillow. Smile, it makes people wonder what you're up to. And I'll be here all week. (And all weekend--I have tomorrow OFF!)