An Open Letter...

Dear Friend,

I love you, I think you're wonderful. But please stop calling me to complain about your life.

I can appreciate a good vent better than anyone, but it is very frustrating to listen to your petty complaints about an otherwise charmed life. When you're well-fed, well-dressed and happy in your large, comfortable home it's very difficult for me to have the appropriate amount of sympathy when you complain (at length) about stupid things. Your complaints are the middle income equivalent of complaining about how expensive the gas is to fill your Hummer.

That's not to say I don't want to bitch about stuff with you...I totally do, I love to bitch about things...but for an appropriate amount of time, not 45 minutes about how hard it is to unscrew the gas cap on your BMW. But enough with the car analogy...


And by the way, when you have something that others do not (and would really, really, really like to have) you shouldn't complain about that thing in front of them. It's insensitive and kind of mean. And then when other people say you're self-absorbed, it makes it difficult to disagree with them.

This comes from a place of love, honestly, but also of passive-agressiveness. I'm venting about you here because I know you don't read my blog and I guess we're not really good enough friends for me to say this to your face.

PS..I know that you hate the new Facebook, but get the fuck over it.