Dear JH,

Thank you so much for giving me an air conditioner on Tuesday. With nothing but 95° highs in the forecast, that little box in my window will surely be what keeps me from dying in my upstairs attic apartment. And although one of the reasons I came to Wisconsin was to get away from summers like these, the kindness of friends like you makes it all worth the move.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear 30-Second Segment of a Conversation on Monday,

For how brief you were, you made me sad and got me thinking for the subsequent 48 hours. Change, relocation, and answers to prayer: all of this was wrapped up in a short side comment as part of a larger conversation. I have what I want, and you, oh short little sentence, informed me that an old, fervent prayer for someone else has been answered. And even as I thank God for that answer, I'm realizing that I have to come to grips with the fact that just because God answers prayers we make for someone else, that doesn't necessarily mean we ourselves get to benefit from those blessings.

You showed me that God is good, and that I still have a lot of growing up to do.

Hugs & kisses,

B

Dear Landlord, Landlady, God, and Timing,

Thank you so much for deciding to let me stay here. I didn't want to sound petulant and childish, but the idea of moving this fall—for the fifth time in six years—made me want to cry. It, in fact, did make me cry. Especially after seeing some of the apartments available elsewhere in the city within this price range, I couldn't bear the idea of leaving my garret, this neighborhood, or your family. From the bottom of my heart, thank you.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Apartment,

I still love you.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Chirpy Refrigerator In My Otherwise Perfect New Apartment,

It's true: my apartment is nearly perfect. With its original 1928 doors and windows, a fantastic retro sink that matches the metal '50s kitchen table I inherited from my grandma, and heat paid for by the landlord, I can think of little that could make my new home any better.

Little, that is, besides a quieter refrigerator.

You, my dear large appliance, keep my milk chilled and my ice cream frozen in a manner I cannot reproach, and for a single woman living alone, I cannot think of a better size fridge than you. But you are never quiet. What's going on in there? Why must you run as loud as a leer jet at takeoff and make concerning dripping sounds in the four-minute intervals when you are (comparatively) quiet? And why (dare I ask?) does it sound for all the world as though you're hiding a flock of sparrows behind you?

(You aren't, are you?)

Please keep up the good work contributing to the overall perfections of my new apartment, but please -- if you can find it in yourself, deep down in the crisper -- please try to be a little quieter.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Movers,

I take back every bad thing I ever said about you. God bless you for carrying 126 items -- among them box springs, mattress, giant chair, kitchen table, and approximately a quarter ton of books -- up a flight of stairs and through an apartment with ceilings obviously not made for people as vertically blessed as you.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Movers,

I know I'm not the only person in the world who's moving, but it is January. So I have to wonder why you decided to take my stuff out of my house on Friday, hold it in your storehouse for four days, and not even leave the state until yesterday. If you had left the day you took my things, you could have made it here and back before the midwest snowstorm. But no, you decided to wait until yesterday to start the drive. Now you're shooting for a January 16th arrival. Do you realize what this means?

• 5 more days without a bed.
• 5 more days without a bedspread.
• 5 more days with only 4 outfits.
• 5 more days without pots and pans.
• 5 more days without my kitchen table.
• 5 more days without my shower curtain.

A blizzard would have been a great time to unpack all my boxes. Instead, you'll be holed up in a motel 200 miles from home, and I'll be stuck in an unfurnished apartment for another five days.

Watch for black ice, and stay warm.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Hairdresser I'm Leaving Behind Me When I Move on Saturday,

When my mom, sick of hearing me complain about my hair, made me an appointment with you, I confess, I wasn't sure I'd like you. Sure, my mom's hair looked great ... on her. But were you going to be one of those people who makes everyone's hair look the same? Was I going to walk out of your studio looking middle-aged? Could anyone possibly save my hair from the Short Cut Fiasco of '09?

The past two years of beautiful hairdos have proven not only that my hair could be saved, but also that my mom often knows what she's talking about. Thank you for showing me that I could have long hair that doesn't look like the Ugly Girl In a Bad Teen Movie, for teaching me how to make my uncooperative hair curl, and for supporting me when I came in with boxed dye instead of having it done in your studio. On top of that, I always enjoyed our conversations, too, and will miss the tales of camping, hiking, and your granddaughter when I get my hair cut by someone in Wisconsin who had BETTER not ruin what your magical shears began.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear 2012,

Please don't suck.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Best Buy and Bank of America,

Thank you for collectively making it possible for me to acquire an iPhone this week. The cash for credit card points I've accumulated over the past five years will pay for my new data plan for the next two years, and the new iPhone 4S made all the older GS3s free at Best Buy.

My favorite part of having an iPhone this week is the free classic literature on the iBooks App. With all my books packed up and ready to move, it's nice to have Sense and Sensibility to curl up with after a long day of crumpled newspapers and packing tape.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Everyone Who Exclaims, "WISCONSIN!?" When I Tell Them Where I'm Moving To,

For your convenience (and consideration), I hereby provide a list of places that are, in fact, farther away than Wisconsin:

Seattle, WA
Portland, OR
Tempe, AZ
Berlin, Germany
London, England
Aberdeen, Scotland
Rio de Janiero, Brazil *
Pearl City, HI
Taiwan
Sydney, Australia *
Anchorage, AK
Banff
San Francisco, CA
Atlanta, GA
Johannesburg, South Africa *
Prince Edward Island
Missoula, MT
Vancouver, BC
Quebec, QC
Denver, CO
Prague, Czech Republic
Iceland
Sea of Tranquility, Moon *


* Indicates places I have not actually considered during the past six years.

Hugs & kisses,
B

Dear Procrastination,

You live in a world of unreality. You seem to think that if you ignore something long enough, it will go away. While this may be true for goldfish, it is not true for the rest of life. Even in the goldfish scenario, if you ignore it long enough, it doesn't actually go away. It dies. Then you still have to clean up.

I propose a change of attitude. If you can accept reality, you're likely able to finish grading assignments within an hour. You can wash and wax your car while it's still sunny and reasonably warm outside. You can maintain your spotless record for paying all bills on time and sticking to budget. If you can simply focus and prioritize, you can even manage to pack for next month's move with a minimum level of stress.

If you ignore packing long enough, you're still locked into a lease.

Hugs & kisses,
B