a series of open letters

dear life,

wow...it's been awhile, huh? well, guess what. i've had a series of startling revelations and apparently, i'm an actress. it's weird, i know.

what's that? oh, no...no i'm not 'an actress'...i'm just (at this moment in time) in demand to pretend to be other people. fictional people. more so than...well, ever, really.

it's super-bizarre no? yes. yes it is.

anyway, i wanted to let you know all that so that when you emerge from your theatre cocoon in a few months you're not totally blindsided by having to say things that are unscripted. and have real, actual interactions with people whom you've not seen in months and months. which reminds me...

gotta go, life. see you in january.

lurv
evel

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dear improv',

i miss you. can't wait to get back together.

lascivious wink...

hearts and stars,
evel

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dear brain,

i know...i know. i know that we've been stuck in windowless rooms with fake living spaces for a while. i know. and i know it's gonna be that way for a little while longer and i know you're getting a little stir crazy. it's okay. i still think you're great.

but, can we stop with the bizarre theatre-related anxiety dreams? can we? they're funny and all, great stories, but seriously - cut it out. i'd like to go back to all the other random shit that's equally funny and less prescient.

you're always with me. i like that about you.

gooo synapses!
evel

ps - please don't forget my lines!

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dear the tv show glee,

you suck. i hate you. i've watched two of you and you are really cloying and i am not a fan. also, why are all your female characters such grating stereotypes? and why doesn't jane lynch get more screen time/kudos for at least basing her stereotype in reality and making a really formidible and enjoyable villian?

and for that matter, why are my female friends putting up with this shit? stop watching bad tv. unless it's ANTM...

also, get a better sound editor - your musical numbers look like shit.

hates and skates,
evel

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dear dating,

i hate you, too. you're irritating.

grrrr
evel

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dear theatre,

thanks for giving me an excuse not to date. way to take a load off of me, no?

oh, and no thanks for reinforcing the concept of me being alone forever and never having enough money to retire/be financially independent.

and i reckon, thanks for smiling upon me the past few months.

i love you! i hate you!
evel

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dear vanity fair magazine,

look, i've never wanted to be famous...but now i'd really like to be interesting enough to be in you. in a non-scandalous way.

i'll work on it. but you guys are gonna have to lower your standards, okay? okay.

short-time reader, first time writer
evel

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dear fake chicken salad that i've been making and eating obsessively for the past week or so,

damn you're fine.

i want you inside me,
evel