"Dear Marshall, I do not like that stupid hat. I want to beat it with a bat. I want to stab it with a fork. It makes you look like such a dork."

Dear little a-holes who egged my car last night, stabbed my tire last year, and threw a rock at my windshield, I don't know why you think it's funny to make people cry and spend money they don't have on repairs; I would like to invite you to be my first victims if I ever decide to be a car serial killer.

Dear driver who likes to go 5 miles an hour in a 35, or stop in the middle of the road, or turn your blinker on to turn right, but get farther left in the lane instead of using the turn lane, or who literally has no logic or consideration for others whatsoever, I loathe your very existence. I don't understand how you can be so oblivious. I want to get out of my car, knock on your window, and give you a piece of my mind. Not that it would do any good, but it might make me feel a little better.

Dear occifer, no, I have not been drinking. It is customary for a person to speed up while attempting to get on the freeway. And you should be congratulating me that I was able to actually go the posted speed limit, let alone exceed it for ONCE in my measly little life, not punishing me. I'm sorry that you don't have a real job because you're a cop in Utah and there is nothing better for you to do than be a creepy stalker. Get a real job, and stop taking your frustrations out on me. How about you pull the people over who impede traffic instead? Their crime is much worse, I assure you. Or how about you catch the little a-holes who have been vandalizing my car, especially when there is plenty of evidence for you to figure it out? Or go arrest the person who was trying to run little kids over on the sidewalk on Halloween since you had the information you needed to do that also? Oh wait, that would take some wit and brain power. My bad, sorry I asked. And no, you cannot have my phone number.

Dear drummer who played for Manchester Orchestra in Salt Lake City on Tuesday, you're beautiful and I am very impressed with the fact that you picked up on all those songs in less than a six week time period. Thank you for taking your shirt off, and playing so vigorously the way you did. Did I mention that I think you're gorgeous? Wanna go out sometime? YOU can have my phone number.

Dear every boy who ever lived, I am a beautiful, talented, dedicated, trustworthy, good kisser, open-minded, accepting woman who hates shopping, and knows how to cook. Why do you make me feel like I'm worthless and the opposite of everything that I am?

Dear the friends who have been there for me, especially these past few months, I love you with all my heart! I can only hope you know that, and that you know I'd do anything for you. You've helped me through some tough times and made me Feel loved, rather than just knowing that I'm loved.

Dear adorable little niece, I want you to come back to Magga's house because you love me, too. And because I love you right back! I will go buy more bubble wrap for you to pop, and more Twinkies for you to eat.

Dear father, thank you for attempting to make an effort to make me feel like I matter to you once or twice in my life, but that's not enough.

Dear brain, why do you insist on making me feel like I've only had two hours of sleep when I've in fact had seven, or eight, or nine? It makes it quite difficult to get through the day on top of everything else. Could you, would you, please stop doing that?

Dear bed, why is life better when I'm wrapped in your cozy grasp, with the lights off, the world shut out, and dreams of marrying Josh Groban frolicking around in my head?

Dear television networks and producers, STOP putting shows on hiatus when they shouldn't be on hiatus!!!!!! And stop telling me a show is back on when it is not. It's not polite.

Dear Facebook, would you so kindly stop changing your layout every 5 minutes? Improvements are great, when they're actually improvements. Changing a site and making it less user friendly each time is the opposite of brilliant. Maybe you're trying to weed out the old people who don't know how to use computers, I don't know. But either way, it's annoying. If you insist on making changes, why don't you take a poll from the people who use the site and find out what the people who make you money want?

Dear certain person with whom I am acquainted at work, if I ask you about something, it doesn't mean that I did something wrong. For instance, I did not delete payments out of the computer because I think it's fun to make more work for myself and others with whom I am also acquainted at work. Oh wait, yes, that's right, I do frequently sabotage myself just for the heck of it for pure enjoyment.

Dear nicest person I've ever talked to in my entire life, I wish I could be more like you. I'd like to be able to persuade people with kindness, but they just make me so freaking mad sometimes. You have no idea the impact you have had on me, though, and I promise to try harder to emulate the kind of person you are.

Dear Michael Buble, I'm right here.

Dear life, I'm trying my best to live you the way I'm sure we both want. My Vision Board is helping, one small step at a time. There are a few things I'd like you to do; I'll call you later.

Thanks,
Rachael