Category Archives: open letter

open letters

Open Letter to the Cat Who Poops in the Bathtub

July 8, 2009 – 8:46 pm

Dear Cat Whom Shall be Known as “G” for Anonymity -

What can I say G? I am writing you a letter today to discuss your behavioral issues in hopes that we can live in a sort of peace before you are handed off to my parents at the end of the month. You are an adorable cat, G, but there are some things I am going to outline in the letter that, in order to maintain a loving professional relationship until you move on, you need to work on if we’re to give you free reign (again) of the apartment at night instead of being locked in the spare bathroom with food, water, and a litter box.

First off G, is it really necessary to freak the fuck out whenever the boys are within a ten-foot radius of you? I get that they like to look at you and invade your personal space. Trust me, I get it. I don’t like people within my personal bubble, too. You think I like when Bucky lays across my desk and uses my mouse as his personal headrest? Seriously though, freaking out and hissing, spitting, and screaming… I could really do without it. Oftentimes the boys are just passing you by, oblivious to you. I can let you in on a secret G… the boys are only interested in the following:

  1. Other male cats
  2. Food
  3. Somewhere to sleep
  4. Unsuspecting individual who doesn’t see them coming
  5. Irritating individuals who hiss, spit, and act like a bitch if they get too close.

Do you see yourself falling into any of those categories, G?

Again, I get where you’re coming from, but when you sit in the doorway to the bathroom and block their exit I think it is a little unfair to FREAK OUT and scream. There is a reason why they like to catch you unaware and jump on your back (besides the obvious reason that they are my cats and like to be jerks). Perhaps if you take a chill pill and let them leave the bathroom in peace? Or stop giving into their petty games. I know I, personally, would harass you constantly if I were a cat just to prove what a high maintenance piece of work you are.

But back to the title of this open letter: seriously G, what is the deal? I get that you are terrorized and otherwise bullied by the boys and live in a “constant state of fear” but pooping in the tub? Is that really a necessary thing? What about the peeing on the carpet, clothes, and other items that we use? It’s really disgusting, G, and it’s not like you don’t have your own personal litter box which the boys aren’t allowed near, lest you FREAK OUT.

Mack and I are frankly at a loss, G. You poop in the tub in the middle of the night, so we have to put you in the spare bathroom with all the items you need while we sleep. You know that it’s not just the pooping (though that is a good enough reason in my books) that has made me banish you: the FREAK OUTS all night also really, really helped with that decision. It broke my heart at first that we had to do this, G, but my sympathy went away when we let you out of the bathroom early in the morning and you ran into our shower to poop.

Seriously.

Let us reach a compromise, G, so that we can enjoy the rest of our month together before you go off to my parents house and proceed to get spoiled. How about you take a chill pill in regards to the boys? You know they’re not interested in you in that way and only pick on you because you’re such a spazz. Trust me, G, I know. Why do you think my five brothers terrorized me growing up? Since I FREAKED OUT about it. And the pooping? What more can we do, G? Does the litter box need to be lined in SOLID GOLD BARS to meet your high princess standards?

I get you have issues you need to work out after being thrown out of the past few homes, G. I guess I’d pee and poop on the carpet too (if I were an animal since, as a human, it’s less socially acceptable) if I’d been shown the boot twice in one year. My plea to you, however, is let’s work on the prissy nature and find some sort of unity and love between you cats.

… especially since you’ll be stuck in a car with the boys for four days straight at the end of the month.

I love you Gracie-Grace and hope, with this letter as the ice-breaker, we can improve upon our relationship and have peace in the apartment.

Yours, etc.
Anne

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By Annbee | Also posted in animals | Comments (4)

An Open Letter to my Fairy Godmother

March 27, 2009 – 4:18 pm

Dear Fairy Godmother -

Hey, what’s up? It’s Anne. You know, that godchild that you have been ignoring for my twenty-four years of life. Frankly I’m getting sick of your abandonment and lack of action in my life. I think I’m developing some sort of abandonment issues in regards to you and when my parents pay for the first of five promised therapists in life don’t think your name won’t come up. Don’t give me the excuse of the fact I already have two godmothers so “can’t possibly have room for more.” Yes, while my godmothers are amazing people they lack one thing which you can provide: magic.

Before you fly off in a rage of glitter and sparkles, or whatever magical elements you use when mad, I don’t mean to exploit you but seriously? A little help in life would be awesome.

For one, Cinderella’s fairy godmother “pimped her ride” and got her a gown for the ball and magic carriage to ride off and meet her prince. True, I don’t need to find a prince but a wardrobe and nice ride would be amazing. I do adore my car but the payments? Those frankly suck and I think you could leverage your power to my advantage. Also, have you seen my appearance lately? It’s not that I can’t dress up it is more to the fact I am lazy. Yes, lazy. When I roll out of bed in the morning I’m typically happy with myself if I manage not to run into walls or spill cereal on myself, so last thing on my mind is make up, beautiful ball gowns, and whatever girly girls do.

Perhaps, fairy godmother, you forsake me since I have a boyfriend and thus lose the rights to have your help. What about those years of singledom? Where were you then? Sure, I have Mack now but, you know, you could have sped up the process. I appreciate the good thing that I have but you’re a slacker and I’m sick of making excuses for you.

“Anne, you’re such a selfish girl!” you could argue and aren’t, ultimately, we all selfishly wanting a fairy godmother? Someone to swoop in and fix all our problems magically and have a happily ever after? I think I doubt your existence, fairy godmother, since there are no such things as magic and fairy dust or whatever historical writers wrote about you. If there was with a swoosh of a magic wand those student loans would vanish and last I checked, they’re still there.

Fairy godmother, I’m over you and waiting. I think us females are sick of sitting around waiting for you to take action. I will rally a cry of “Ladies! Let us not sit around waiting for a Prince Charming to find us and all our problems to be fixed! Let us take charge and do it OURSELVES!” and let the masses stand strong, independent women who don’t believe in magic and believe in the power of here, now, and empowerment.

Go off fairy godmother and do whatever you were doing. Just know I’m over waiting and unlike helpless Cinderella have taken charge of my own life and make my own destiny.

Sincerely,
Anne

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By Annbee | Comments (2)

Open Letter to Old Men Who Leer at My Butt

January 27, 2009 – 7:32 pm

Dear Old Men Who Feel the Need to Check Out My Butt -

Hey, it’s me, Anne. You must admit, in your old age that you can get away with a lot. I only hope that one day, I too will be as old as you are, have seen as much as you’ve seen, and done as much as you have done. Despite many of my peers’ feelings towards you, I typically adore older people. You have discipline, respect, horribly wonderful driving that drives us all crazy, and stories about the “good ol’ days”.

That said: why do you feel the need to check out my butt? 

I confess that I realize that I have a rather, what is the word? Bootylicious butt. It’s pretty round and out there but, overall, not that amazing of a butt. You would think, leering old men, that you’d do the typical check out of the boobs. Yes, I concede, sometimes I do wear baggy shirts on my off-days. That does, however, not give you the excuse to check out my butt. 

It is kind of demeaning, both to me as a person and my boobs (which you so pointedly ignore), that you so openly stare at said butt. I realize, of course, that sometimes you can be subtle about it. You, leering old man, will wait until I have passed before checking it out. Had you considered, perhaps, that my BOYFRIEND behind me would notice? And point it out?

LAUGHINGLY?

Now, leering old men who check out my butt, if you got creative about it then, perhaps, it’d be a little less demeaning. Why, take for example, the old man who tricked me, at the store, into talking about my food choices? Which, later, my boyfriend laughingly informed me in my distraction I failed to notice him checking out my boobs? 

Seriously, old men leering at my butt, you can do better. If you must be disgusting leerers, at least make it more subtle. 

If I notice, that says something.

Your “Bootylicious” Friend, 
Anne

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By Annbee | Comments (1)
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