Dear Santa, (I Should Sign This Love, 'Veruca Salt')

I want to start a book club.

I want, for my 30th, to take all my friends out for sushi + dancing,

& at the end, thank them all and say,

'This one's on me.'

I want an excuse to put on heels. A good excuse.*

*Like, a book club.

I want everyone to know that if your heels are a bit too big, if you spray hairspray in them right before you stick in your foot, it'll help keep 'em on.

I secretly want to be prettier than every one of my ex's ex's.

I want someone to post a 'Missed Connection' about me on Craigslist.*

*Not that I would respond, I'd just be flattered.

I would like an invitation the next time these people throw a party.

I want everyone I've ever said mean things to to know I'm sorry.

Except for my nemesis at Rite Aid. 

I want Sunday Brunch to never go out of fashion.

I really want to know who's reading these.

I want you to know that the above made me laugh.

Out loud.

I want to be successful at my next job.

But seriously, I want to start a book club.

Sincerely,

P.S. I forgive you for never getting around to magically turning my bedroom into an 'Everything Barbie' room. I understand that that was asking for a lot to happen in one night. And I imagine the hot pink 'Barbie' wallpaper would've been a real bitch to get off later.