Dear Logic,

I appreciate your efforts, I really do. But sometimes, no matter how much you present the reasonable side of things, it just won't make my emotions budge. I'll stay angry, depressed, bored, or ecstatic whether it's at all logical or not. The past week has been logically awesome, but my emotions can't seem to keep up. Don't stop trying to reason me back over to normal, but please don't expect me to always make sense. Sometimes I just only have it in me to be a Marianne Dashwood, rather than her sensible sister Elinor.

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 Apartment,

I still love you.

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 Cookies and Coffee on One-Hour Flights,

You can't fool me. Your purpose is not to sate thirst or hunger or even to force interaction between seat partners. The thing is, at 36,000 feet above the earth, we are none of us experiencing normal. In several hundred thousand years of human existence, flight has only been possible for about the past 100. Humans flying in a metal tube is not natural. But eating -- yes -- eating is. Your purpose in our lives so high up in the air is not to satisfy us, but rather to distract us. Combine something so foreign as flying with something so basic as food, and we're sure to reach some kind of equilibrium between take-off and landing. Good thinking.

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