Dear People with Children,

Hey.  I'm one of those unnatural childless women who have no maternal instincts. And I hate your kids.

I don't want to kill them or anything, or even see them come to any harm. However, I do not want to interact with them, and I really wish they would leave me and mine the hell alone.

No more do I want to see little faces peering into my windows hoping to catch a glimpse of my cats or tapping on them to get their attention.  My cats aren't child-friendly, and no, little Aidan, Braden, and Makayla can't come in to play. My home is just as child-unfriendly as the cats are, and I don't want the little bastards inside. I like things like swear words, fire, knives, and porn.  My home is not an extension of their playground.

I ache inside when they're running around at restaurants or during adult-only events.  Just this evening, I was at an adult dance class, which I pay for and dearly enjoy.  I do not enjoy my dance teacher having to tell a posse of random children that they had to either sit quietly or go back in the room. Nor did I enjoy having to strain to hear her over the din of exclamations at how cuuuuuuute the snots were. I pay for these classes.  I pay for nice meals when I can afford them with my partner (not all the time, knives are expensive). And one misplaced tot can really put a damper on my enjoyment of what I purchased.

Maybe I'm being too harsh.  Maybe it's not the kids that I should rail against... it's the parents.  Yep, you, stay at home Mommie Dearest, and you, Checked Out Workin' Dad. You, who act like every shit the kid takes is a miracle delivered from the heavens. You, who insist that the kid is the next Stephen Hawking even though Taylor can't even fucking read.  SHE'S NINE.  You, who dress them up in designer clothes or prostitot gear, and reward their attention seeking crap with lavish praise and toys. And then you whine how parenting is sooooooooo haaaaaaaaaarrrrrrrrrd and it's the hardest, most demanding job in the world, and you should get PAID for it, damn it!  Well, bitch, in order to get paid, you have to produce something of value, and I'm relatively sure little Dakota isn't the Messiah.

You turn your noses up at me, even though I'm the one that covers your slack at work (assembly?  Li'l Spinners Pole Dancing Classes? Parole hearing? I've heard it all), I'm the one that gets held up in line when I just want to get some beer or tampons, I'm the one that subsidizes schools I won't be using so you can have somewhere to put Jacen during the day. But, you either think that I'm some dumb little thing that just doesn't get it and doesn't know her own mind (even though I'm well over thirty, graduated college with honors, and spent exactly three months unemployed during the recession) and will eventually succumb to the Baby Rabies that infects every woman ever, or I'm the spawn of Satan, an avatar of selfishness and psychopathy without any capacity for love or joy (um... no).  I love deeply, give freely of my heart and time (and porn!), care tenderly for the people I love, and am supremely happy with my choices. My relationship is awesome, my cats are the best, I work hard and I have buckets of friends and experiences and memories and dreams. The only problem you have with me is that I chose differently from you. My choices don't impact you in any way. Choosing not to multiply does not diminish anything of your life.

But your choices impact me.  You added a disgusting little human to the world, and they invade my space without any intervention from you. They violate the sanctity of my private space, upset the beings with whose care I have been charged, add complications to my plans. They knock over the balance of things, and turn fairness into a joke.  Because of the kids, you piss and moan every time I have an advantage over you (able to work longer hours and thus get promoted faster, able to find adequate, affordable housing, able to do things with far fewer logistics required), but you greedily latch on to any advantage you have over me (government assistance, tax breaks, flex time... The list goes on). Sorry you're jealous... I'm kind of jealous too. But you don't see me running down to the sperm bank so that as soon as I'm pregnant, I can have free government avocados.

I really just wish you and yours would leave me and mine alone. We have a wonderful life, and if there was a way to wholly avoid children or parents, I'd take it. But, I have to deal with you... and you have to deal with me.

I'm NOT babysitting.

Sayonara, asshole!

You're really a terrible roommate.

I'm so glad I don't have to deal with you ever again. Your cat has cost me a lot of money with everything it's peed on, and your laissez-faire attitude towards the utilities has cost us our cable and internet.

You're unemployed more than you're employed, you bitch about not having friends in the area but you don't make any effort. You're always around, and you never shut up for five minutes.  Everything I do is in some way about you... if I get a good job, you bemoan your terrible luck. If I'm in a relationship, you wail about your lack of an SO (even though you don't really want one).  You're always the victim, you've never done a thing wrong, and everyone is out to get you.

I've heard your complaints about me too, so I know I'm not perfect.  I'm never around (because I'm tired of you being all over the apartment and I need space), I'm messy (legit, you knew this), I don't clean (because I'm never around), and everything I do is wrong (even though I've been more successful at work, have a thriving relationship, two well-adjusted cats that don't pee on everything, pay the bills on time, and can afford to live by myself).  I'm the awful one. I get that.

Well, you won't have to deal with my messy incompetent ass anymore, so please be grateful.  Me?  I'm going to hang out in my own place, where it's quiet and peaceful, without you lolling all over my sofa while half-dressed and sweaty.

Sayonara, asshole!

Dear People Who Are Not Being Invited To My Wedding,

Hi.  It's the bride.

So, there's been some blowback towards me and Groom about how you're not invited, and that's sooooo fucked up, and that's soooooo unfair, and we're not friiiiieeeennnnnds anymooooooore and don't we care about faaaaaaaaaaaamily or the chiiiiiiiiiiiildruuuuuuun and all this noise, and whyyyyyyyy, my god, whyyyyyyyyyy?  WHYYYYYYYY?

Well, here's your answer!

1) It's not unfair.  I haven't been in elementary school for a long time, and I don't have to invite everyone in the class or keep it a secret. It's an event that's about the wedding between Groom and I.  We've decided to keep it small so we can pay for it ourselves, and we've chosen our nearest and dearest  friends and family to share it with.

2)  If you're our friend and we didn't invite you, this doesn't mean that we don't like you. It means that we are just closer to other people.  I mean, when was the last time you called, texted, emailed, or saw one of us?  If it's been over a  year, don't expect an invitation. We reserved those for people who have laughed with us, cried with us, helped us move, helped us find jobs, helped us feel better after a bad day, who have opened their hearts to us and been true friends in every way.  If we just get drunk every so often, or I just see you at a hobby we both do, that's not really true closeness. Sorry.

3)  If you're an old friend and trying to hold me to some promise I made before puberty to be bridesmaids in each other's weddings... have I spoken to you since high school?  No?  Have you even met the groom?  No?  So... what's the deal?  I don't even know you anymore.

4)  Family. Okay, I know that blood is thicker than water (supposedly) but some of you are awful. It's just a fact... some of you are composed entirely of pus, and we don't want you anywhere near us.  Some of you haven't seen either of us since before college, and haven't met the other person getting married. Some of you couldn't pick us out of a lineup. If I don't know you, don't know anything about you, and have no idea if you'd even be interested in attending our event, it is not a slight.

5)  People with kids.  We aren't kid friendly people. We're not paying for a kid friendly venue or kid friendly event. And we have invited several people that do have children, but understand that their kids aren't invited to absolutely everything. You, however, have demonstrated you can't be trusted, and will unleash your poorly behaved offspring on us no matter what we try to tell you.  Parent however way you choose, it's no hair off my ass if you're "Raising Up A Child" or doing the attachment-parent extended-breastfeeding indigo-children thing or whatever.  They're not welcome, and if you have a track record of bringing them places they're not welcome, neither are you.

6)  Facebook people.  Just because you friended me out of the blue and occasionally like my status updates, or Groom's muscle-flexing pictures (hey, you have good taste), that doesn't make us besties.  I don't even know where you live.  Is it in this state?

7)  People that we've had a falling-out with.  This is perhaps the most ridiculous group of people that I've heard backlash about our small wedding and our limited invite list from, because it makes absolutely no sense.  You think Groom is a dick.  You think I'm a blonde-headed bitch. And one (or both) of us thinks the same of you. ON WHAT UNIVERSE WOULD IT MAKE SENSE FOR ME TO INVITE YOU?  You think I want you to write nasty remarks in our guestbook or get drunk on our tab for free? I've given you your space. Please respect mine.

8)  Finally, people that have awkward FEELINGS for either of us.  There are only a couple of you, but we've both been keeping our distance from you because you can't stop staring at one of us like we're on the menu.  You're good people, but we're not about to give you a venue to let it be known how much you LURVE one member of the wedding party.

To sum up, Groom and I have worked hard on an event that is just the way we want to be married.  We worked hard to make a guest list that reflected this, and all of the people on it are those that we love. Yes, it sucks that you don't get to go to something you really wanted to, but this wedding is not about your tender little fee-fees. The only fee-fees that are important to us at this juncture are our own. Sorry, it's the truth. Hope you're willing to catch up after, but if you aren't, well, I guess we'll have to live with that.

Signed,

The Bride

Dear Friends,

This letter is obscenely petty, which is why it isn't being sent.

Okay.  My boyfriend and I are good friends of you both.  I don't hang out with you as much as I'd like, since I've been really busy with work.  But he's constantly with you guys, and we've done a lot of cool stuff together. We're both members of the same social circle, you had us over for orphan Christmas, and I thought we were really tight?

So why didn't we get invited over last Tuesday?

People that you know less got invited to whatever you did last week.  People that you have actual drama with got invited. My boyfriend and I have been good friends to you, and we don't have any drama that I can think of... why not us?  Are we not as good friends as I thought?

I guess I'm taking this as an exclusion because of my baggage... I was really hoping to start fresh since I came to my new city this year, and I've cut ties with a lot of people that haven't been good friends to me in the past. I know we don't have boatloads of shared history, but we have been on good terms since we met last summer, and we've done a lot together.  I really thought I put the past behind me, but I guess I have to unpack this baggage if I'm ever going to be okay with this.  I guess I'd just like a reason why I'm no longer in the loop.

I'm glad you won't be reading this, or if you do, you won't know it's you, because who wants to feel like they've been targeted for something that's probably not even about them? I know I'll get over it, but I'm just feeling a little raw.

Thanks.

Dear Psycho

Dee Dee,

I'm sorry, but I am never going to forgive you for how terribly you treated me while I was at my most vulnerable.  You demanded an endless supply of attention, validation, and emotional support, when I had very little to give another person. And you never once reciprocated. Every moment was about you, what you did, what you liked, what you were interested in, and you never once so much as asked what I thought. Even a simple "how are you" would ahve gone a long way. When I would express my opinion, you just railroaded right past it like I was pennies on a train track. But it's not like you cared. You were lying to me every moment.

You lied about everything... even things as basic as your name, your gender, and your voice. I called, and you had your husband answer the phone. Not that I knew he was your husband, of course.

And then, you had the audacity to misunderstand why I wanted my distance. You were actually surprised that I didn't want anyhting to do with you afterwards. Shocked, even.

Well, bitch, when the truth finally came crashing down around you, I was left feeling hurt, betrayed, embarrassed, and utterly alone. I cried for days. And all you considered was the fact that you lost a source of narcissistic supply.

And I never told you this, but when you sent me the actual picture of yourself, before you admitted the truth, I didn't realize you were a woman.