Day Nine (Forget the Other One, It’s Just Not Working. It’s Not You, It’s…..No, It’s You)

Dear Amy Poehler,

Hi!  Happy Birthday, lady!  It’s your cake day and I hope you’re having plenty of it, with the libation of your choice in abundance.  You only get one birthday a year, I understand, so I always look at it as an opportunity to be indulgent with myself.  (I don’t have to cook on my birthday, do I?  Thank you for cooking for me.  I don’t have to wash the dishes on my birthday, do I?  Aww, thank you for washing them for me.  I don’t have to put the dishes away, do I?)  You see what I mean.  It’s important to feel important on your birthday.

This is also a thank-you note.  If I hadn’t you in my life, Amy Poehler, I would not have been able to suffer through last night’s Republican debates without popping a blood vessel, nor would I have been able to put together a lucid sentence about why I was upset.  Your advice to Smart Girls and Women in General and your Leslie Knope sensibilities are the way I want my head and heart to work all the time, not after I’ve blown a gasket and picked up the (messy) pieces with regret.  I love that both my Daughters are well-versed in Poehlerisms (not trademarked! Please use it if you’d like!) and are much smarter and mature than I ever was at their age, because they have a role model in you.

So Happy Happy Birthday, and thanks for being so cool.

Love,

Tea and Sarcasm

Me and Amy  having tea and being sarcastic: MY DREAM DAY.

Me and Amy having tea and being sarcastic: MY DREAM DAY.

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