dear dears,

dear Smash,

i thought maybe you could work it for one season.

but five episodes in you've let me down.

i really wanted to like you.

oh well.

dear physical therapists,

why can't all doctors be as nice to visit as you? 

dear boy in the waiting room,

i liked your shoes...and your face. 

but i can guarantee you're too athletic 

and it'd never work.

dear gilmore girls,

how did you manage to make an entire seven season soundtrack out of la, la, la

without me realizing it?

dear love,

you are real aren't you?

dear people with broken hearts,

love is real. 

just takes some time and effort.

p.s.

i mean, that's what it seems like from what i've seen/read on magical married people blogs.

dear sitcoms, 

is there anyway to create conflict without people lying to each other/cheating?

just wondering.

dear hair,

you're great.

dear karaoke at applebee's,

thank you for an excuse to shake my hips again in public

dear new/really old that are new again friends,

thank you for being willing to be seen with someone shaking their hips in public.

dear new new friend,

it's like we are friend-dating. i drive you home and we sit in the car and talk about life. 

you want to see hunger games with me and i want to do everything together, 

but i am scared to get too close because i know i am leaving soon.

dear flannel shirts,

you and i have a love affair that will never end.

dear people who hug,

i like you guys.

dear nighttime subconscious,

you've been absolutely incredible lately, 

a series of dreams with a backdrop of war where we are talking about filmmaking? 

where did that come from?

also, last night was just lovely. 

i really should sleep more.

dear mtc,

did i really just apply for a job without actually talking to single person?

p.s.

hire me, please.

i have no idea why i want this so badly, 

but i have never been so nervous in my life applying for anything.

dear the big year,
i liked you because you were funny and simple and heartwarming
and well casted with our favorite people
and *gasp* rated PG
and even if it was obvious your message was so good.

dear owen wilson,
i like that you exist.
p.s.
i might like even more that your brother exists.