dear j.,

wow. i was having this utterly crappy morning. i was frustrated and full of pms. i wanted to bite people and growl. i might have growled a little bit. you’d have to ask jess, she’d know for sure. she was the one who patiently listened while i raged and raged against people who think i need a contract writer to complete a project that i’ve broken my ass to work on, a very high-profile, frustrating confusing project. and this people who suggested the contractor doesn’t even understand the project as well as i do. note to him: the person who makes up the links and puts them in the copy, generally knows where the fuck she wants to send her goddamn readers, get it?

anyway j. i sat at my desk and was working on aforemention project when i remembered that i picked up a package from you from the lover-man postmaster just this morning and well, i needed something to listen to, so i grabbed the “Get Up” CD, because i need some sort of get up music.

and, because i am super curiousity girl i read all the little liner notes. and now i’m sitting here biting my lip trying to suppress the biggest grin ever. and i’m failing mightily.

thank you mysterious mr. j.

just like anyone,
jodi