Dear Vodka,

(and tonic water, and limes, and ginger ale, and ice cubes, and stupid easy-to-fill glass tumblers with your stupid wide mouths that are stupid easy to gulp from),

Please cease and desist with your antics. Quit calling me, and elbowing me into the kitchen, and whispering fun little come-hithers into my ear. Get off my shoulder, get out of my brain, and please render yourselves invisible when my eye lands upon you.

When you make me call my friend Joy "J-Train" more than thirty times in a night, it's a clear sign that you are stifling me. Please– i need some space.

And when i play Boggle? i like to be able to actually read the words i have written–nay, scrawled–on my piece of paper. When 'aye' looks like 'hit', it's because we have been spending too much time together. And while we're on the subject, fuck you for making my entire list consist of 3-letter words. i am better than that. It's obvious that you are just a bad influence for me.

Well, there is more, but i think you get the point. i hope you meet someone new, i really do– and, you know, if we run into each other at a party some time, i'll try and at least say 'hi'. We did have some good times, after all.

Thanks for being so understanding. . . now kindly get out of my bloodstream, it's been nearly 24 hours, for cry-yiy.