Dear Halloween,

I am so excited for you! I know it is still a week away but I am so proud of myself for picking the costume I wanted and not just the one that every guy I know picked because of the fishnet thigh-highs.

Dear Yogurtland,

Dear Yogurtland, I want you bad. I promised Skinny Jeans it was over between us, but I need to have you. I remember how delicious you tasted on my lips. Our times together were so right but yet so wrong. I want to come over, but what will those high school kids that hang out in front think if I show up there all by myself at 10pm on a Saturday? Will I have to limit the amount of yogurt I get to save some dignity? Maybe I should change out of my pajamas so that I don't look like a total slob? Is there any way I can downplay the fact that getting yogurt is the highlight of my evening? I already "splurged" on a club sandwich today. I mean, do I really need yogurt? Maybe if I could just have a little, I would get over you and not think about you all the time. Who am I kidding? Every time I show up at your door, I feel like a junkie begging for a hit. I see the other junkies there too. Some have no shame and they sit or stand right outside devouring their 44 oz of crack. Others walk hurriedly to their cars, nonchalantly sneaking bites, acting as if they are not dying to get home and indulge. As I turn the corner to walk in, my heart stops. Do I really want to do this??? But I walk through the door anyway, heart racing, feet dragging...I think to myself that there is still time. I can turn around and walk away. Just because I am here does not mean I have to go through with it. I am strong enough. I can do this. Leave NOW! I ignore the voice and ask for a sample cup. Even though I have been here a million times and tried every flavor more than once, I ask for a sample cup. After a few tastes, I grab a serving cup and head to the Peanut Butter nozzle, then Heath Bar, Blueberry and Pistachio...the next thing I know I am at the toppings counter, adding so many sprinkles that the store clerk is cleaning up my mess. I put my cup on the scale and don't even care that my total comes out to $5 while the girl next to me pays $1.49, because of course, this will be the "last time" I give in to your temptation. Then, I'm telling you Yogurtland, I won't be back.

Dear Honda Pilot driver in the lane next to me at the stoplight this morning,

Why did you shake your head & roll your eyes at me? Was it because I was putting concealer on under my eyes? Oh, I get it. You're passing judgment on me. You're thinking that I'm a typical girl doing my makeup in the car. But, I swear, I'm so much deeper than that! There are so many levels of depth to me you have no idea! If you only knew...that I was listening to Ryan Seacrest on KISS FM & texting on my blackberry messenger! So, next time you want to pass judgment on someone, think again.

Dear Sensitive People,

Everything I say is not meant to be taken literally and/or as an attack on you. I am actually just kidding. By the way, have we met? Just wondering. Because I've been sarcastic for as long as I can remember, and certainly as long as you've known me. So quit taking my facebook comments, emails, texts, blackberry messages, IMs and comments in person and over the phone so seriously! Thanks for stopping by.

Dear girl in the elevator,

I acknowledged you because we went to the same law school, so when I responded to your question about where I was working, it really wasn’t necessary for you to tell me that you too applied for my job, but after you were offered the position you decided to take another job, in the same building that is “better” and “pays more.” Um, manners? Also, one of the partners at the firm told his assistant that when you called to turn down the job, you told him you were working in the building for a firm but you "didn't know the name of it." Fitting.

Dear girl at Toast on Saturday,

I saw you order it & I saw it arrive, but after we left, were you really able to eat both the New England Clam Chowder and stack of pancakes? Yikes.

Dear Passive Aggressive People,

How am I supposed to know what you want if you don't TELL me?????????

Dear Skinny Jeans,

Dear skinny jeans, what happened to us? We used to be so perfect for eachother...you complemented me and I you..but now you cling to me too tightly and when I come home I just need to get away from you... How did this happen? Is it really all my fault? Was it all the summertime drinking? The late night stuffed French Toast with warm fruit topping? Or was it the dinners at LA's finest where I justified fatty bone marrow because it was, of course, Pizzeria Mozza? Or the various cheese plates and bread I "sampled" at different restaurants on weeknights? Maybe it was the trip to NY where I was on vacation and I couldn't possibly watch myself on vacation? Or that time at Yogurtland when I "treated myself"? No...it had to be that half bag of candy corn I had before dinner on my way home from the gym. But why didn't you give me more warning signals? I have been behaving this way for months, but our relationship ended so suddenly. I mean, I have to admit, I knew I was pushing it toward the end....but I thought you didn't mind that I was cheating here and there...I thought we would still be okay. But no, you made it VERY clear that our relationship is not going to work like this. I can't believe you can be so fickle! What about all the office birthday cake I passed up for you? All the donuts and bread baskets? Costco pizza and....all my other favorites? Have you so quickly forgotten about Da Vid who costs a fortune and makes me keep my heart rate at 170 during leg presses? What about all the egg whites and protein shakes?? The Atkins bars?? Didn't those mean anything to you????!! Look, I know that I have been slipping lately. But I want you back SJ. Things just aren't the same without you...we belong together.