To my loved ones:

Published August 4, 2013 by Sandee

Me in the merry merry month of May

Dear diseased neighbor with bloated belly,

How dare you!  So you feel it’s okay to say that my stomach looks like yours?  You goddamned wench.  I have uterine fibroids.  Thanks for reminding me that I’m accursed!  Yes, I have issue with the fact that I do situps every other day but still appear to have a pot belly at times.  It sucks that this has happened in the last couple of years when I had been able to have pride in a flat stomach into my middle forties, glad to have at least had that, if not big titties — no I don’t really want big titties — but anyway — HOW DARE YOU!  And learn how to air smooch.  When we greet each other, you needn’t plant slobbery diseased lips on the side of my face — ungh! — just threw up in my mouth.

Dear homeless drunken neighbor in wheelchair,

Aw, thanks for offering me Chinese food this evening.  But how the fuck you can afford to offer me dinner when you’re homeless is beyond me.  I dunno but it was a sweet gesture nonetheless.  During my winter hiatus, don’t forget that offer please, as I may be broke and have to take you up on it.  We’ll have a very “scenic” dinner in the park, overlooking the Hudson River.

Dear other homeless neighbor,

Sorry I said bad things about you and your wife in another post that I wrote about the homeless people in this neighborhood.  I’ll eat those words — I swear.  I come home every day to you sitting by the park playing chess tournaments with locals.  I suck ass in chess and think that you could teach me lots.  Mr. Homeless Man, can I please play with you?  I promise I have no qualms about touching communal chess pieces.  You’re obviously a respected member of the community and I should kick myself for being such a dick — or shall I say — such a twat.

Dear “Jane”,

I’m so so sorry.  Had I known you would be going around offering free pussy to average looking men, I would have coached you better.  I hope you’re living a happy life now, and that all that had occurred between us is behind you.  I love you.  P.S.  Please stop dying your hair orange just so that you don’t look like me anymore.  It makes you look, crack-whorish.

Yours, all y’all,

Aunt Sandee

34 comments on “To my loved ones:

  • You have a gift for recognizing the humanity around you and capturing it in all its beauty AND ugliness. Oops, a serious comment from me. But I really do admire your observations and the skill with which you capture them in words.

    • I thought of a couple of different things she might look like with this colored hair and this one seemed to fit! I’m thinking of that cheap brassy read coloring — hahaha! It surprises me how casually people say some of the rudest things, without even considering that they might be insulting you.

  • Oh, and I’ve only worn dresses and skirts all summer and I dread to think of getting back into pants. Lord help me, my belly and my butt are becoming huge. I have been injured and unable to do yoga for FOUR FUCKING MONTHS. No biking this summer either. I do hike, but it only seems to help my legs to some degree. Eff this flab.

    • That’s funny I also said I’m going to wear more dresses, had on one yesterday. That’s the one thing about being fifty I don’t like — the slowing down of the metabolism. It’s hard for me to grasp because I do exercise and eat generally well and I’m not a huge fan of food. Though my fibroids are huge, I think my stomach has just gotten fatter. So, as of yesterday I’m trying to reduce (as they used to say in the days of yore), cutting out the honey, extra olive oil and bread. We’ll see.

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