Dear Mr. Veen: I have never quite understood the logic behind getting up, showering, and then taking a nap. Call me crazy (because I am!), but I prefer the reverse order to that equation. Dear Ipod: after only a two year relationship you have officially called it quits! Your timing in this is less than desirable. Dear pug puppy: I cannot for the life of me get you and your squishy cuteness out of my head. One word and one word only is saving me from going out and getting one of you right now: poop. Dear Justin Bieber: after watching your documentary I officially have "Bieber-fever". What can I say? If loving you is wrong than I don't wanna be right. Dear Saturday: word on the street is that you intend to deliver 80 degrees and sunshine. Yes, there is still hope for a summer! And last to Mr. Veen: you are the flip in my flop, the fizz in my beer and the sparkle in my sunshine.
Erin -- out!