I'm glad Santa brought two of your movies to my house, because it makes my little chickens so darn happy. But if my mind has to burst out with a very rambunctious chorus of "CONNECTED! PROTECTED!" one more time, I'm gonna get mad. And I might even say something mean about you. And that would totally wreck my New Years Resolution. Again.
Dear New Years Resolution,
I only made you one single item because I knew you would be a bugger to tackle. All I want is to not say mean things about people anymore. Well, I'm on day 4... and it's not going so well as I would wish. I admit, I have been provoked. And I tried to just state facts and not be malicious and slanderous. But last night, I let out the big one. I called someone a name. I swear word name that I really think is a bad name. But it fits them like winter gloves. Not a good excuse, just the only one I have. But that was really the torpedo I used to blow you out of the water yesterday. It was even the Sabbath. I'm sorry, Resolution. I'm sorry, Powers that Be. I'm sorry that I swore. I don't know where I picked up this gutter language, my parents really are innocent. It just pops out of my mouth -- I don't ask to say it!!! I think it has something to do with hormones.
Actually, it has more to do with the fact that I am just a decroded piece of poop.
But I'm recommitted, Resolution! This is the year, buddy. Me and you. You and me. All. Year. Long.
Dearest and Truest Friends,
I'm sorry you have to know the truth about me.
I have been thinking about you a lot, but talking about that right now would be inadvisable. We'll talk about it later, when I'm a little more -- a little more -- well, I don't know. Just know up there in Heaven that I love you so much. And I'm writing it here just in case you read my blog. I don't know. You might!
I love you,
Dear Percy Jackson and the Olympian,
I'm on book four. You are a really fun series. The only problem is, I keep dreaming it's Marie and the Olympians, and I'm a demi-god and am very powerful for one so young. Also, I want to reference you all the time and call my son a son of Poseidon and my daughter a daughter of Athena. Is this wrong, Percy? Does this make me a social outcast? Please get back to me soon.
Marie. Daughter of Zeus.
I've always been a little wary of you. Did you know that? But you have to be, don't you. Otherwise, what could follow December and precede February. I love Valentine's Day. But now I love you, too, 'cause you brought me my daughter. So thank you.
Daughter of my Heart,
Only one week until you are three years old. Two has been a good year for you. I think you are brilliant, hilarious, beautiful, cunning, bewitching, imaginative, darling, kind, slightly possessive, and wonderful. Down-right perfect. 'Cause you're you. I love to watch you play, and hear you say things like "I think I'm getting sick! I think I need to lay down and rest and watch a movie. In your room." 'Cause that's just clever.
I love you with all my heart,
I'm all lettered out. But I'm trying to write in my "large plates" (thank you, Elise, I still think that's clever) more often... I'm working my way back. Because if I can't spew all over you, to whom can I spew? Have a nice day. Now go forth and serve!