Dear People Who "Reply All" to Emails,

Thank you so much for sharing your response with every single recipient of an email. It's so great to have my blackberry buzz all day long and see messages from people I have never heard of with details about their weekend plans. I mean, how exciting! I have never met you but I know that you can't make the birthday party because you have to go to Portland to visit your uncle who broke his leg. My life would be incomplete without knowing such interesting things. If I'm really lucky I get to witness an entire dialogue between several of you. The back and forth updates just make my day-or several days if the moon and stars are really aligned. This week, someone has been looking out for me because I've had THREE separate emails with so many people replying to all. Thanks God. You really know how to make me happy.

Dear Ice Cream Man on My Block,

NOBODY wants ice cream on North Genesee Avenue so stop ringing that fing bell up and down my street on the weekends! What about investing in an actual ice cream truck? I don't trust anyone selling ice cream from a cart ringing a bell.

Dear Bob H.,

Watching you yell at fat people run in the sand on The Biggest Loser is motivating me to wake up early and go to the gym. I LOVE that you teach spin class at my gym on Saturday mornings. At first I was really excited to have a class that was so amazing. Then, when I saw you on Oprah--I was sure it was LOVE. But I wish that you would talk to me for longer when I stalk you after class to tell you how amazing I think you are and ask you about carbs. Anyway, I miss you and I'll see you this Saturday. Maybe I'll ask you to be my personal trainer. Something to think about. But I don't like being yelled at. I'm pretty sure that would make me cry and eat chocolate. In that order.

Dear Target Shoppers,

This is not Magic Mountain or a playground for your kids. And aren't we in an economic crisis? How can you afford to fill your cart to the brim with crap you don't need?

Elevator Etiquette

You would think that riding in an elevator is sufficiently self-explanatory, but apparently it is not. I am fed up with the lack of etiquette that people display when it comes to elevators. I have come up with a list of 10 basic rules of etiquette for elevator riding. Follow these rules and you won't be in danger of getting your head banged against the wall:

1. If you are walking up to an elevator with people in it, do not run up to get on and hold the door open, wait for the next one. This is ESPECIALLY true where there is more than one elevator.

2. If you are on the elevator with others and someone is walking up to the elevator as the doors are about to close, do not stick your foot (or umbrella/book/whatever) to hold the door open for the person. There are 3 other elevators that person can get on. She'll be fine. Let go.

3. Your cell phone does NOT WORK on the elevator so get off of it before you get on. And don't pretend that you are still talking after your phone has cut out.

4. If you have 3 loud kids who want to jump when the elevator arrives at each floor, wait until you can get on the elevator without others being in there with you.

5. If you are with others on the elevator, save your private conversation until you get off. It will only last 30 seconds and that way, no one has to know about how "he didn't call you last night."

6. Allow some PERSONAL SPACE between you and others on the elevator. If you squeeze on and we are touching, you should have waited until the next elevator. Also, if there is plenty of space on the elevator, MOVE OVER. You do not have to stand directly in front of someone else.

7. It is not necessary for you to fill the silence.

8. Do not ask strangers where they are coming from or where they are going.

9. If you smell bad, take the stairs.

10. Know where you are going so that you don't push the buttons for more than one floor.

Dear Guy on the Stairmaster Next To Me,

I cannot even begin to comprehend why you thought it would be okay for you to tell me to "slow down" on my machine. I thought it was pretty annoying that you spent half of your workout stairing at MY monitor to see what level I was on. But I still minded my own business. But you couldn't just stop at that. You had to actually stop me during my workout to tell me to slow down. Wow. What could possibly make you think it would be okay to do that? Were you trying to be helpful? You have no idea what my workout is about. Look Vache, if you want to go at a snail's pace and stay fat, that's fine. Just don't drag others down with you.

Dear Girl Driving Her 50's Mustang,

Are you a character in a movie? I couldn't help but notice your hair in a proper bun, pearl earrings and of course, chiffon white collared shirt. I didn't realize that driving a car from the 50s meant that you had to dress from that era as well. Oh, let me guess. You buy everything vintage, you are anti anything "trendy" but you still live near melrose/fairfax and buy your groceries at Whole Foods. So original.

Dear Flash Mob,

Pure Genius! http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jwMj3PJDxuo&feature=related

Dear Jesus Cont'd,

Yes!!! We meet again! And on Christmas eve of all times! I always had hoped this day would come. And it is finally happening. I just came to get a drink with my friend, but never expected to find you at the bar. In a hooded sweatshirt, no less. Is this part of your Jesus attire? The hood really gives a dramatic effect. I hope that I see you again and again and slowly uncover all the different Jesus outfits and accessories that come with it.

Dear Guy Who is Getting Trained at the Gym,

We get it. You can afford a trainer 5 nights a week. Awesome. Now, maybe you could actually use that trainer to help you get in shape instead of as a chatting buddy. I don't really care about your physical fitness plan as much as I don't want to hear your stupid conversation every night of the week. And why do u have to yell? Can't you keep your tone at a normal conversation level? Also, your trainer should bitch slap you for allowing to complain so much about the workout. I would. Your trainer should get his own letter on this blog. I can't stand his fake accent, hi-lights and pouty lips. Oh and one final note, please don't include me in your conversations. I'm only looking at you because you're bugging the shit out of me. Not because I want you to talk to me.

Dear Yogurtland Newcomers,

Um...excuse me? I would like to get some yogurt please. Who ARE all you people? It is 9pm on a Sunday and I want to get my usual amazing yogurtness on & you are RUINING it! Why is there a line outside the door and where did you all come from? Shouldn't you be at the inferior Pinkberry or something? I don't like this one bit. Looks like tonight is going to have to be a Private Selection Cookies & Cream night. Jerks.

Dear driver who waves me to go even though its actually your turn to go,

It is really annoying that you don't just follow the basic rules of the road. You see that? It's my blinker. If, in fact, you knew anything about driving, you would realize that since you are going straight and I am turning left, I have to yield to your stupid car. Instead, you look like an idiot waving your giant hand at me and giving me the "courtesy" to go ahead. This is not generous. It is stupid and it is a waste of time. You are confusing things and making it more difficult. Why don't you follow the rules more & wave your hand less? The streets would be a safer place for everyone.

Dear TSA,

I hope you are enjoying my face cream, body wash and toothpaste. I have supplied your staff members with more than a years supply of cosmetic products. God forbid I travel with a container that has over 4 oz of "liquid" which you arbitrarily decide when to confiscate. On my way TO Vegas, you took my face lotion but not my toothpaste or body wash. What a relief, I only lost $40 worth of face cream, or so I thought. Until, on the way back, your staff decided that "they would get fired" if they let me on with (GASP) toothpaste! What I don't understand is the enforcement of your policies. If the policy is that no liquid over 4 oz should be taken on board, just enforce it ALL the time. That way, I wouldn't even bother. But sometimes you let it through and other times you don't. You must really like Tom's Natural toothpaste though because that is the 3rd tube I have lost! Also anything with a label on it you take, even though I have other unmarked bottles that contain more liquid! Are you brand snobs? Only the best products get kept? I will find a way to outsmart you TSA. Just wait.

Dear Ken at Crunch,

What's that? Oh my "butt looks good" and I "shouldn't lose any more weight"? Thanks for announcing that to me again today. Yeah. You already stopped me on the stairwell two weeks ago to tell me the same thing. Remember? You told me that you were watching me during my entire workout and even could see my butt in the reflection of the window when I was doing leg presses. Not awkward at all. So I really appreciate the fact that again today you thought it was appropriate to stop me in front of your friend and tell me the same thing. Maybe it would even be flattering if you weren't fifty and didn't have a fake tan and bleached blonde hair. Maybe also if you weren't wearing that 80s neon tank top with the low scoop neck and spandex black shorts. Maybe. But doubtful.

Dear Chick in the Bathroom,

I find it really disgusting that everyday at noon you are brushing your teeth here. I guess it's not even that bad that you brush your teeth in a public restroom, but that you do it with your mouth wide open. I really don't want to hear or see your teeth with white foam all over them. And honestly, it's pretty difficult to avoid when there are only two sinks and you are occupying one of them. I admit that I have brushed my teeth in there--but I think the proper etiquette is to close your lips over the toothbrush when brushing the front of your teeth so that others do not have to be exposed to your white foamy grill. I think I'm going to be sick.

Dear Barbie,

Now what? You didn't even look back for me. I bet you didn't even notice I was gone. Sure, I'm good when it rains or when your feet are cold. But not when you are running to get lunch at Carl's Jr. Because that is where you dropped me. Of all places. Outside of a fast-food restaurant! I was so scared, people stomping on me, kicking me around. I laid there, hoping you would return. But you didn't even look back. Then, miraculously, someone picked me up. I thought it was you! I thought I would have my life back again and be reunited with my other half. But no. It was a total stranger, laughing at how funny it was that a "little boot" was on the sidewalk. So funny that she decided to keep me. Great. All chances of reuniting with you ended right there. I didn't know where I was going or what was going to happen to me. So here I am. Staring out of a glass window. I guess it could be worse. At least she doesn't find amusement in boot sacrifices. But gone are the days where my existence served a purpose, where I made any outfit cuter, where I got fresh air and walked around. I miss you Barbie. Do you ever think about me? Have you missed me? Have you already moved on to, dare I say it, UGGS? I'm not that surprised though. I should have known all along that you didn't really care about me. All your outfits and your accessories. How could I really matter to you when you have so much to choose from? What about my other half? Where is she? Together, at least we could have found a new owner. She's probably in your trunk with all the other defects. At least she has company. All I have is a view of the city mocking me. It's a cold, lonely world out there. I just hope to last.