Wet Socks

Dear wet socks,

Nothing makes me want to punch kittens in their little kitten faces (too graphic?) than a pair of saturated socks. Living in Arizona, this isn't usually a problem. However, thanks to my one mile uphill hike from the light rail station to the business school during today's freak hurricane (comparable to how your grandpa got to school, I'm sure,) I got to listen to the *squish* *squish* *squish* of my damp ass socks for the rest of the day. (On a side note, I say damp because another thing I cannot handle is the word moist...gross... but I'll save that for another entry.) Anyway, I cannot handle you. I can handle looking like a wet dog with wet hair stuck to my face for the rest of my day, but not you.

SEE YOU AGAIN IN 360 DAYS, WET SOCKS. BRING ON THE SUNSHINE.

love, kirsten

Old Ladies Exercising in Form Fitting Clothing

Dear Old Lady Doing Group Fitness Classes in Form Fitting Clothing,

GROSS.

Look, I get it, you're hotter than most grandmas. You go to the SRC and join all of us 20-somethings to show us "you've still got it" and you're sure if Sinatra was still alive, he'd want to whip you up some moonshine and take you on the town. Don't get me wrong, you're a hot old lady and I hope someday to be a hot old lady too. But please refrain from shaking your old lady junk in a spandex tube top and matching booty shorts, it's just distracting.

But please continue watching the Golden Girls and baking your grand kids yum yums... I CAN handle that.
Love, Kirsten

Lazy Ass Elevator Riders

Dear Lazy Ass Elevator Rider,

Having to go up one floor does not rationalize taking the elevator. Honestly, it takes you more time to wait for it and piss me off when I have to make an extra stop on my legitimate five floor ascent than it would to help eradicate the obesity epidemic and burn a good five calories. Gawd forbid you participate in any sort of physical activity when you can just crowd into a small box with strangers and make them feel awkward for an extra minute.

YOU SUCK.

Love, Kirsten