You guys make me laugh. Checking my mail was a treat this morning. I decided to share all the comments made in regards to what else could be going on in this picture:

RJ said: My first thought was: There’s something/a stain on her dress! ... dont mind me I was just staring at your boob for 30 seconds trying to see it ... and you wouldnt be smiling if it were a stain haha ... OH! Maybe it’s cream filling from the donut you just ate before applying lipstick and you’re so happy to have one more taste!

RJ knows my love for the finer things in life- including a cream filled donut. By the way, I totally would have been happy to have one more taste- as long as there wasn’t a stain!

My “real life friend” Megan made me laugh too- ”I know the sign says ABSOLUTELY no smoking, but could i at least stash my cigs in here till after the ceremony?” hahaha...sorry i couldn’t resist that ghetto sign. Who would have thought that actually needed to be posted on a wall? =p

I couldn’t agree with you more, Megan. I almost said something about that too! How funny. I wonder if they posted that sign in the new building’s bathrooms too??

Jenny said: “Okay, so what one of you is going to carry this train?”

It was a toss up, but no one did! It was a mid-length vail, so it went a little past butt or something… I don’t even remember!

Mrs. M, as usual, never fails to make me laugh to the point where my coworker wonders if I’m okay and if she get something… someone… a straight jacket… just help in general.

Mrs. M said:

E. See this? It’s coming off tonight!

F. I think the miracle bra is only working on one side.

G. I’m so pretty today! Look! Even my armpit is pretty!

Freaking HILARIOUS.

You guys are too funny!

Want to know the true story behind this picture!? It’s far less interesting, but oh well. The truth is that a week before my wedding the woman I entrusted to do the alterations and steam ironing left the iron on the top part of my dress too long and burned it!! I was heart-broken.

I cussed.

I cried.

I cussed some more.

I egged her house.

I felt better.

It wasn’t all brown and crispy or anything, it was just a little “melty.” To fix the problem, she continued on with the beading that was already apart of my dress. It looked a little silly, but I had to come to grips with the fact that at the end of the day I would be married and really? That’s all I cared about. So- I was showing my friends the lady’s flub and cover-up in the picture.

Per a couple requests, I thought I’d show “the whole dress.” You’re making me wish I had my professional pictures with me! Are you happy!?!?!

And just to make you laugh- check out this cheese!

It rained a little the morning I got married (that’s good luck, you know!), so I had to walk into the church with a bag over my head. I had to do some PhotoShop project in college, hence why the picture looks all weird. That’s the biggest freaking smile I’ve ever seen in my life. Could I say “I’m getting MAAAAAAAAAARIED any louder?!”

I think not.

Or-

It could be that I’m screaming about constipation.

Yeah.... it’s gotta be that.

Mrs. M’s Wedding Photo Drive inspired me to send her some of my own pictures. Sadly, all my professional ones are back home in some random hope chest nudged between a Madonna cd and a Trailer Park Trash cookbook. Hmm, seems a little irreverent doesn’t it?

Anyhow, I sent her the few pictures I actually have with me. I can’t help but laugh at this one:

Let’s have a quiz!

What in the CRAP was going on in this picture?

A. “WURD.” Practicing my new L-family gang sign

B. “ Hey guys! Let’s pretend I’m on Dancing With the Stars! Foxtrot THIS Samantha Harris!”

C. “I came from Alabama with my banjo on my knee, I’m goin’ to Louisiana my true love for to see.”

D. “Does this dress make my nipple look fat?”

Post your answers in the comments section below ("Share the Love"). Extra credit to those who come up with an E, F, and G! I’ll post the best ones tomorrow.

<3

Can I simply ask why all these new “on-the-go” drink packs have to be the darkest, deepest shade of crimson EVER!?

REALLY!!?

WHY!!!!?

People have to work!

On the same token, people like to drink flavored water.

HOWEVER-

People also don’t like to have their teeth stained BLOODY RED ALL FREAKING DAY!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!

I know Halloween is approaching, but c’mon! I swear people think I’m a vampire around here. I now have to use a freaking straw in my water bottle.

Are you happy Crystal Light!? A STRAW!

Yes- I’m one of those snooty straw-drinkers.

WHO!?

WHO DRINKS WATER THROUGH A STRAW?!

I’ll tell you who- MORONS!

For the love of flavored water- make something clear already!

GAH!

I’ve stooped to a whole new level.

Food Sneaking.

Yep.

My name is Brittny, and I’m a food sneaker.

I mentioned last week that Ramadan is taking place right now and that my coworker is Muslim and fasting.

I decided to be respectful of her fasting and forego any eating in the office. I’ll be honest and admit that I graze a lot of the day. I have my chewable vitamins around 9:00, my mid-morning snack around 10:00, lunch, and then another snack at 3:30ish.

Yeah, I know- shut up.

However, I decided to give this grazing up during Ramadan. Not eating my usual snacks has been a little more difficult than I though it would, but I’ve been holding strong.

Until today.

I got my Awesome Autumn package today (!!!YIPPEE!!!)- which I’ll post about in the next day or two.

I’ll go ahead and tell you that my partner sent me Dove chocolate (and surprisingly- they weren’t a melty mess! What a miracle!).

Chocolate is my Kryptonite. I’ll fold like a crushed aluminum can when faced with chocolate staring me down.

So, today I caved.

I totally sneaked some chocolate. Two pieces, to be exact. I so felt like I was back in elementary school trying to hide my extra huge wad of grape BubbleYum gum from the teacher.

I would cough, and unwrap the package a little bit.

Shuffle my feet and open it a little more.

Do a little nose sniff, and presto- the wrapper was off.

Then, the tricky part is trying to mask the smell of an awesome morsel of dove chocolate.

The key is to shove to stupid thing in your mouth and chew about 100 times a second (yep- that fast)- almost to the point where you can’t even enjoy your chocolate- almost.

Then, you have to clean your pallate to rid yourself of any evidence. That means you flush your mouth with water- which is also forbidden for a fasting Muslim.

I’m not sure how well I hid my chocolate scarf, but I’d like to think I did okay.

Sadly, in actuality, I probably didn’t. Boo.

However, I’ll continue to tell myself I did- just because I feel a little better knowing I didn’t drive my coworker crazy by the smell of Dove chocolate.

Back to the water thing-

Water drinking is something I won’t give up for my coworker. I have, however, tried my best to quietly open my bottles, drink slow and steadily- being sure not to gulp.

The biggest challenge has been using my crystal light packs. Shaking a bottle in hopes of dissolving the packet is nearly impossible! I’ve held it under my desk,

sloooowly rotated the bottle every 10 seconds,

shuffled papers while shaking,

and even went into a sneezing fit.

I still don’t think it worked.

Oh well- she’s got to know I’m drinking water. I pee every two hours.

I’ve been hiding my ice coffee behind my computer screen so that when she gets up from her desk she doesn’t see anything.

It’s been a lot of work! I feel like I have a second job! ha ha.

All I have to say is: It’s going to be a long month!

I better get better at this cough, shuffle, and unwrap bit.

More to come…

Tickets for Will and I to fly to America this December ........ $alotoffreakingmoney.00

Hotel in Minneapolis ........ $125.00/night

Rental Car ........ $190.00/week

One Meal at the Cheesecake Factory ........ $55.00

Adrian Peterson Vikings Gear ........ $100.00

Finding out that the tickets you paid a crapload for- soley to watch your favorite rookie OU player and no other reason at all- normally go for NINE DOLLARS AND FIFTY FREAKING CENTS due to the extra-small fine print stating LIMITED VIEW on the front-

ie: meaning there is a huge freaking pole/concession stand/cruise liner blocking 99.943% of the field- ........

PRICELESS

There are some things money can buy. For everything else, there’s Vicodin.

Okay.

I understand you love the Sooners and want to support them in every which way.

I’m respectful of that.

However-

Love, Sweetie, Light of my Life, we must have some ground rules if you insist on waking up at all hours of the night to support your team.

1. If the game is not televised and you are forced to listen via internet radio in bed, the head phones must be on.

2. You must cheer quietly. Remember the “inside voice” we talked about and practiced? That voice must be in effect. No loud “Yeah baby!” cries, or “Go, go, go, go!!!” as you cheer on Murray into the endzone. No stomping, yelling, or loud clapping.

Inside Voice Cheers Only.

3. I love you, but I’m not getting up at 1:30 in the morning to watch OU vs. the Sisters of the Poor. It isn’t going to happen my friend.

4. When the game is over, and you’re all alive and exhilarated, and not ready to go back to sleep you are forbidden to wake me just because, “You can’t sleep.”

5. No. For the millionth time-no, I do not want to play Skip-Bo with you. Why don’t you ever want to play when I do!? Must you wait until 12:41 to ask!? Seriously.

6. I’m incapable of true and meaningful conversations after about 9:00 each weeknight. So- that means when it’s 2:13 and you’re telling me you miss life back home and asking me, “How long do you think we’ll live in Kuwait?” I’m just not fully aware of what you’re saying. I’m more asleep than awake. I’m liable to tell you we’ll be here forever and that I think you should wear that ugly plaid shirt to work today.

And we both know that you shouldn’t.

See!? I can’t be trusted during normal sleeping hours.

7. You’re not allowed to keep nudging me and telling me how you’re awake and you can’t get back to sleep.

I’m not awake.

I am asleep.

If you’re not- than at least let one of us get some rest!

8. No. I don’t want to shower with you at 2:45.

What were you doing showering then anyway!?

9. You’re not allowed to flip every freaking light on in the house, slam drawers, and clomp around while getting ready after that 2:45 shower.

I’m sure there are more rules, but that’s all I can come with now.

That’s probably due to the fact that I’m too tired to think of any more.

I’m tired because from 11:00- 3:30 you continually poked and nudged me telling me how awake you were, or asking me to play skip-bo, or asking me deep and meaningful questions about life!

Just wait until tonight, Will. You’re going to be exhaused and I am going to make it my mission to annoy you the same way.

Ha- who am I kidding? I’ll be out like a light too.

Oh well, the thought is nice.

Are you up for Skip-bo??

Thanks for the compliment.

I’m not sure if what you said was a stupid pick-up line or truly genuine, but nonetheless it made an old married lady’s day- and made me laugh my butt off.

(the Dallas Cowboys cheerleaders are in town today and he asked if I was one and wanted to take a picture with me)

I need to spend about 13 years in a gym to achieve Dallas Cowboy Cheerleader status! Plus, there’s no way I could ever squeeze into that outfit.Are you kidding me!? I’d look like a freaking sausage!

Anyway, thanks for the laugh.

~Brittny

It’s starting to get hot out and I’m dying to wear shorts and tanks and fun and cute girly summer stuff. However, I don’t have that luxury here.

I have to dress “modestly” and wear capris and sleeves and everything that makes sweat run down my back.

Okay, retraction, no matter WHAT you wear here sweat is going to run down your back and your neck and your butt crack and you even get that nasty unattractive upper lip sweat.

Ew.

I miss being able to go to Wal-Mart in shorts and a tank and be considered totally normal. I told Will back in Decemeber when we were home I was going to wear shorts just because I could! I didn’t end up doing it because it was cold, but it would have been nice. I don’t even remember the last time I wore shorts in public. That is really sad!

I have a confession.

When we came home for Christmas I thought all of you stateside ladies were hussies.

Yep.

Sorry.

Being Totally honest here!

I would see women in short skirts and low cut shirts and I would instantly think, “What a tramp!”

How funny!? What am I!? An 88 year old woman?!

I guess so.

It’s almost scary how my thoughts on clothes have been morphed. Okay, not morphed, because as soon as I get home I’m walking around in the fewest articles of clothing possible (ha ha), but it sort of has changed because I’ve gotten used to things here.

I guess 2 weeks ago an American got arrested for wearing a bikini. A bikini! I initially thought, “Oh my gosh!! She was wearing a bikini!?” Like I was totally shocked someone would do such a “terrible and audacious thing,” but then I thought, “Crap. That’s what I have in my drawer too!”

Who AM I?

Honestly though, I don’t think you would want to wear a bikini here even if you were allowed. You would probably be the only one and you would scream, “Hey!! Look at me! I’m a big blonde obnoxious American that can’t respect your culture!” Well, at least that is how they would see it. Although, because I’ve been clothes brainwashed I would think the same thing too. Ha ha.

So, I guess I’m forced to sweat the entire summer in my modest clothes. Thank God I don’t have to wear an abbaya. Now THAT would be hot. Those black things suck in so much heat from the sun they could probably be an energy source.

Bzzt! (that’s an electric buzzing sound for you ladies that wondered)

I think I’ll get off that subject now.

It’s only March.

I will wait until July when it’s 135 and I feel like a slab of teriyaki beef jerky because of the fierce heat.

Yeah.

Prepare you hussy women! There will be lots of complaining of heat in the near future.

What!?

You’re mad because I called you a hussy!?

Ugh. You’re so sensitive!

Okay, okay. You’re right.

I’m sorry.

I was only joking.

I was generalizing.

I know you’re not a hussy.

I love you!

Are we cool now?

Are we?

Please say yes?

Okay! Okay! You caught me!!

I’ll admit it!

I’m jealous!

I want to walk around in summer clothes and I can’t! It’s the truth I tell you!

Sigh…

My tantrum is over for the moment…

Do you want to talk about something else now!?!

Lets!

Today is Friday. It’s so funny how embedded the American work week is in our brain. Wednesday will forever be Friday to me and Saturday, when I come back to work, it;s always Monday. I guess that’s just a weird quark.

I have to go home and clean tonight so I don’t totally freak out and so I won’t be in a bad mood all evening. Something about a disaster of a house puts me in a terrible mood and I tend to project that onto others.

It’s sad really, I know… but true!

Will has to pick up some new people at the airport tonight so I think it will be a boring evening. We’ll probably go to be early so he can get up late and pick them up (they come in at midnight). I don’t really care what we do. I’m just glad to be off.

Have I ever told you guys I want a new job?

Have I?

Have I?

Maybe jus tonce or twice, huh? Ha ha. What a laugh.

Okay, I think I’ve said enough today. As you can probably tell, I’m a little excited that I get to leave this cage and finally have a weekend. What gave it away?

Can’t be sure…

Well thanks for reading! I can’t wait to catch up on your girls’ blogs!

In the meantime you have to do something for me.

I don’t care if your in Michigan or New England or Colorado or Indiana or any other northern place darn it!

You have to wear shorts for me!

you heard me! Don’t be skerrd (scared for you normal people)!

That’s right. I want to see legs EVERYWHERE! I don’t care if it’s 24 with the windchill.

Take one for the team!

Do you think I’m crazy?

I’m not.

I promise.

Well, at least there have been no confirmed reports at this time…

Sending you a BIG WARM SWEATY Kuwaiti Hug!

Your Friend,

The modestly dressed, upper lip sweating, microbooger wearing, smelly fairy friend,

Britter

Because I feel I’m among friends, I will start with a paranoia I’ve been having all afternoon.

Girls, I think my feet smell.

What is worse than that!?

I have been so worried all day long and trying to take big whiffs of air to make sure I’m in the clear.

See, I’m wearing ballet flats without socks. That isn’t typically a problem for me, except it miraculously rained here today (which is very odd for this time of year!) and my shoes got all wet and sloshy and so now I know, I just know I’m steaming off something bad.

I mean lethal bad.

I think my nose is used to the smell. “Please God, let everyone else’s’ nose be immune too.”

Okay, that is my paranoia. I had to get it out because I’ve been worried all afternoon and I can’t call “Ethel” to tell her about it because everyone will then know it’s ME emanating the scent that made their flowers die and fruit spoil.

The Horror! The Horror!

Okay, sorry. I will now move on- that is if you will still read this post after I announced the worst thing ever!

Actually…

Let’s camp out here.

I hate feet. In fact I hate them so much I don’t even like to say that word. I can say it once or twice and not want to throw up, but for the sake of this post I just can’t keep saying, “feet” without getting sick. In fact, I just threw up a little.

Let’s call them fairies.

(Too funny, you’d think I was talking about nether regions or something. Nope! Just feet.)

I am not a fairy person at all. I never have been. Only recently have I gotten a lot more comfortable with the idea of fairies.

This is largely due to the fact that when I had my fairy surgery they were constantly fondled and stroked and rubbed and ever sexual word you can think of and twist to make seem miserable.

That’s right. If I wasn’t okay with fairies before, I had to have a quick come to Jesus meeting last spring because my fairies were on debut for the world to see!

If having my family know about my fairy problems wasn’t bad enough, Will’s sweet mom- totally meaning well- told the whole freaking world about my fairies. I had no choice but to come to grips with them! I think the turning point was the February family get together, full of grandparents, aunts, uncles, and cousins where I was kindly asked every intimate detail about my fairy surgery and on top of that, “Show us your fairies!” Um, can I die now please? Oh that AND the whole month I was on her Sunday school prayer list. I mean, I so know the sweet woman loves me and genuinely wanted prayer for me, but my view of fairies is comparable with being stripped naked and standing in front of her whole class.

Yeah.

About the same thing.

Anyway, I’m more open to touching Will’s fairies and letting him touch mine. Oh my gosh- how sick did THAT just sound!!? Sorry. Maybe I should have used the real “f” word in this instance instead of fairies to avoid any miscommunications and random google searches when my blog comes up under hot sex or something.

Before, I would totally freak out if someone wanted to touch my fairies or wanted me to touch theirs- not that I get a lot of requests for me to touch people’s fairies, but you know what I’m saying…

I remember one time I was on a mission trip in Romania and at the end of our whole trip we went down to the river and were supposed to wash each other’s fairies, just like Jesus did with his disciples. I totally freaked out.

“Are you there, God? It’s me, Brittny. Hi. Look. I know you did this whole washing fairies thing and all and wanted us to follow your example, but can you make an exception on me? You understand, don’t you?”

Okay, I didn’t really say that, and I totally washed my team’s fairies and it was a really awesome experience, but trust me, I was freaking out inside.

The scary second toes longer than the big toes,

the hairy tops,

the corn infested bottoms… it was hard to “Let Go and Let God” that night, let me tell ya.

Luckily I’ve grown up a little since then. I can handle Will’s clean fairies now and it’s not a big deal. In fact, if he wanted to touch mine I might get grossed out and wince a little at first but then be totally fine soon after. It’s pretty bad when you don’t even want to touch fairies with your best friend!! Sorry Will, nothing personal. Anyway, I’ve made great strides this year and am not ashamed to say I’m becoming okay with fairies!

In fact, I should hug a podiatrist today.

So anyway, I give you that whole stupid drawn out fairy conversation because I’m a little nervous about my wet shoes and the smell they are producing. Sorry girls.Thank goodness the day is soon over. For me and for everyone else!

I don’t know if I am able to talk about anything else now that I just said all that. Am I? Can I seriously justify a real conversation after all that nonsense? I just don’t know!

No… I think the answer is no on this one. You can send the hallelujah chorus in right…

About…

NOW!

You know I love you, that’s why it hurts to write this letter.

Remember all the fun we had my first couple of years of college? Y’know before my boyfriend (who later became my husband) made me get a job- taking me away from you and our special hour together? Of course you remember. You were as devastated. I had to hang up on you because I couldn’t talk through all your sobbing. I’m sorry I had to cut the cord that day. The truth is, I think Will felt threatened by the connection we shared. I know, you probably get that a lot, but this time it’s real.

Who could forget our discussions over weight loss, Brad and Jen (pre-split, of course!), and how great Texas beef really is? Oh the laughs we shared, and the tears we cried. Every weekday at 4:00 was such a special time!

And now… now there’s a chance that we might reunite! I know you were just as thrilled as I was. I’m sure the same things that were going through my head were going through yours when you learned I would be in Kuwait.

“Has she changed since we last met?”

“I hope she remembers me.”

“I hope this pink shirt doesn’t make me look fat.”

Don’t worry, Oprah, I remembered you- oh, and you look great in that shirt! Stop saying you look fat!”

Unfortunately, as excited as you’ve been to meet me, I’m afraid I’m going to have to cancel.

I know, I know, you rearranged your “busy schedule” to come all the way over to the middle of nowhere, but the truth is, Op, I’m a busy lady in high demand. These websites I visit just can’t wait and I am not going to let them down, darn it. Not even for Oprah Winfrey.

So, I knew this news would be upsetting, and I knew you would have your people call my people to try to arrange a get together. How many more ways can I say, “I’m Busy!” without hurting your feelings!? Gah. Just let it go. You’re really beginning to look desperate.

Okay, I see you are going to pester me about meeting you, so here’s what I decided to do. Here is a list of the reasons I can not meet with you today. I don’t think I can make things any clearer than this!!

10. I wore entirely too much blush today. The lighting in my bathroom isn’t the greatest. I thought I needed a little more because apparently it just didn’t seem like 50 swipes was enough. I reapplied the pink horror one last time only to shock myself in the office bathroom this morning.

I look like a cross between Tammie Faye and a Rose Parade float. I can’t see you like this.

9. If the blush encompassing my entire face wasn’t enough, I have yet another unwanted entity sitting on my face, unrelated to makeup. That’s right, Oprah, I have a huge zit on the left side of my chin.  Talk about embarrassing. I’m greeting people before I even get to them. My chin shows up 20 feet before the rest of my does! I thought there was a chance it would clear up so I could meet you, but that just isn’t the case. In fact, I even bought some “Super Strength Will suck the life out of your zit in 3 minutes or your money back” stuff hoping it would help. Sadly, it hasn’t, and I look the exact same way I did yesterday. Only with more blush and a zit the size of a large ferret dancing around my chin with each word I speak.

8. There is a very strange smell emanating from one of the cubicles in my office. I am very paranoid it is mine. It smells like someone put a fresh bag of kettle corn inside a squishy and explosive baby diaper and let it marinate for 2.5 hours. I keep sniffing, trying to inconspicuously catch where the pungency is coming from, but I can’t be certain. I hope it’s not my cubicle.

7. I am having a fat day. I know you can relate to this. I mean, I’ve watched your fluctuate in the 80s and early 90s to finally blossom into one fit chick. Anyway- you know what’ I’m saying. My shirt is getting tucked into my little stomach roll, so unattractive. I can’t have you see me like this.

I am having a zitty, smelly, blushy, fat day. I could stop in my countdown, walk away, and you would totally understand, but here is more, so much more.

6. There are a whole bunch of new eastern hires standing around dour office. They have been standing around and trading turns on the couch for 4 hours. It’s very awkward because They are staring at my screen and it’s freaking me out. On top of that, I stick out in the office because I look like a typical American and so they keep looking at me and I’m getting creeped. Oprah, I don’t want to add to the awkwardness. If you came in here a riot would ensue. I know these young bucks are huge fans of your successful made for TV movies, and I know they know who you are and appreciate you just like the next guy. However, I am certain things would get out of hand and you would feel overwhelmed. I know you’re not used to autographs and pictures and I wouldn’t want to scare you.

5. I walked into the bathroom earlier today (after I saw my scary blush) and saw I had a little microbooger on the tip of my nose. How much more embarrassing can my life get!!? Too much blush, a huge zit, a FAT DAY, AND a micro-booger!!!? These things are supposed to happen one at a time! Oh, Oprah, you’re not familiar with this term?

Sorry, let me catch you up to speed. A micro booger is a teeny tiny little hanging booger just out the cavity of your nose. It’s not terribly noticeable at first site, but trust me, people see you with it.

Therefore from the time I went to the restroom this morning and saw “Big Blush” to the time I saw “microbooger” I have been walking around with crap coming out of my nose none the wiser. Living my life and talking to people and everyone wants to throw up their tuna salad and I’m smiling and having no clue why everyone is rubbing their nose and giving me strange looks. JUST TELL ME! Don’t let me walk around looking even MORE stupid! Ugh. Oprah, do you feel my pain!?

4.I have a VERY, I mean VERY stressful and demanding job, Oprah. Even more high profile than yours. I know it’s hard to believe, but it’s true. Today I was swamped with a load feedback, and then I was weighed down with meetings at AOL.com, and to top it off I am so stressed about finding new sandals for my Saturday deadline. Ugh! Crucial stuff Oprah! As you can see I don’t just leave work at the door when I come home. I bring these things home. I carry the weight of my shoulders, but someone has to do it. You understand, don’t you? I guess not. I mean, you only have your own production company and TV show. That’s not all that hectic.

3. I’m in training. That’s right. I’m working out tonight and can’t talk to anyone. It’s sort of the age old rule of no sex before a game because the guy needs to be focused. That’s the same with me except I’m all about the first thing and not all about having meaningful conversations today. That means Will wins and you lose. Sorry Oprah, I just can’t waste my sentences. I need to keep to myself and remained focused on the challenge before me.

2. As of 3:00 today I am taking a vow of silence- until 6:00, that is.  The only window I MIGHT have had to meet you would have been between 3 and 6, and I am not speaking then so we can’t meet. It would be me staring at you and you talking away all about A Million Little Pieces and everything in between. I just wouldn’t be much company.

1. Will wouldn’t let me.

Thanks for understanding my situation. I’m just too busy for you and can’t really squeeze you in right now.

I know I’ll see you again sometime. Until then, we’ll always have your show…

Your Friend,

Brittny

***If you haven’t already guessed, the Oprah thing appeared to be a bad rumor. Sigh…