staying sexy in the city

Dear Bea Arthur,

There's a reason you're the namesake of nearly every single fantasy sports team I've ever managed, but for those who don't understand why I love you so much, here's a pretty convincing reason:

Stay classy,

Mrs. White

(Via Pajiba)

an open letter to the person(s) in charge of determining gas prices

Dude, you’re killing me.

I spent nearly twenty dollars for five gallons of gas this morning. This is not okay.

Make. It. Cheaper. Or else!

XO,
Mrs. White



(What can I say? After the success of yesterday's open letter, I thought I might once again grossly oversimplify a complex situation for my own personal benefit. It’s worth a shot, right?)

an open letter to the detroit tigers

Stop. Sucking.

I mean it. Just....stop it!


Kisses,
Mrs. White

an open letter to the kid(s) who pelted my car with a paintball at some point while i was inside the gym

So, you're teenagers. You act out because mom and dad try to buy your respect and turn a blind eye to any number of disrespectful looks, comments and near criminal behaviors because they're trying too hard to be the "cool" parents. Misguidedly, they think that's what you'll respond to; yet, what you really want is discipline and more defined boundaries. You're angst-ridden. You're rebellious. You're insecure. Life is pain.

I get it.

But still. Really? You're going to take out all your emotional crap on an anonymous person's car? In broad daylight?? In a public parking lot??? Seems to me that the risk was unnecessary, the payoff minimal, and the damage caused negligible. Furthermore, how exactly will random vandalism make you feel better about being you, you?

All I can hypothesize is that you were aiming to project your internalized rage onto a stranger, i.e. me. That my rage would somehow lessen yours. That, for however briefly, you hoped someone would finally understand what it's like to be you. However, no such luck. The paint came right off, and I was only mildly annoyed for a matter of seconds.

So there.

Bottom line - next time you're itching for a hug because you grew up in an emotionally distant home, please don't vandalize someone's car. I'd have hugged you. Next time, just ask.

Acrimoniously yours,
Mrs. White

an open letter to the politicians of the state of michigan

As a general rule I tend to beg off political discussions, leaving those to people who are better equipped to participate; however, I just can’t let this go without comment. I was neither comforted nor pleased to wake up this morning to the news that the partial state shutdown we’d been threatened with was over, lasting “only” 4 ½ hours. Instead, I was disgusted that such extreme measures were taken at all – regardless of the length of time. I suppose I could be appreciative of your concern over whether or not and by how much to raise my taxes, however this morning’s shutdown strikes me more as the result of stubborn partisan pouting than genuine concern for my well-being.

As far as I can see, genuine concern would have meant both political parties would have put their differences aside to resolve the budget debate sometime during the course of the seven months the proposed budget sat in law-makers’ hands. Genuine concern is not threatening citizens with an absence of state police protection, environmental regulations, and transportation services. Genuine concern is not creating extreme amounts of stress in your thousands of government employees who were originally told not to report to work today, and that they should prepare to go an undetermined length of time unemployed and without pay. Genuine concern is not putting me in a situation where I have to receive emails from my school district clarifying if and for how long I can continue to receive my paycheck. Genuine concern is not making every resident of the state of Michigan doubt the competency and sincerity of the lawmakers we voted into office.

Frankly, I don’t care that the government only closed down for 4 ½ hours. I care that it closed at all. I don’t care whether it was the fault of our Democratic governor, who could have signed an extension providing lawmakers with more time to revise the original proposed budget; or whether the blame should be placed on the backs of our Republican legislators, who didn’t like what they read so chose to sit on their hands until the eleventh hour. What I do care about is that what little trust I had in my state politicians to do their jobs has been shattered.

And if the current state economy didn’t mean that there’s not a chance in hell of me selling my house, you could bet your ass I’d take serious consideration to moving out of state.

Embittered,

Mrs. White

an open letter to the three construction workers who wolf-whistled at me while i was walking to my car

I very nearly dismissed your lechery as good-natured flattery until I saw who you were leering at after I had passed. Straight out of Transamerica that one. Yikes.

So, either you mistook me for a remarkably petite tranny or your standards aren't exactly high. Either way, rather than complimented I'm feeling mildly affronted and thought you should know.

Yours in rebar,
Mrs. White

P.S. - Way to support the stereotype guys. Really.

a second open letter to the stair climber machine at my gym

Clearly I was wrong and you have indeed won the entire effing war. Whatever. It was a stupid war anyway.

But that aside, kudos and I sincerely hope you find happiness despite being...you know...so absolutely horrible.

Best,
Mrs. White

an open letter to the stair climber machine at my gym

That was only the battle, my friend. Mark my words, you have not won the war.

Regards,
Mrs. White