dear editor,

i don't necessarily agree with your stand on that one certain issue. nonetheless, i am willing to overlook our differences if you will simply publish this letter.

i don't have anything of importance or relevance to say; i just want my name in print. who am i, you ask? i'm the part-time wallflower avoiding eye contact in crowds. i'm the browser that doesn't buy. i'm the girl who speaks of big dreams but then goes home to make a sandwich and spend the evening watching four hours of "full house" reruns.

i wanted to volunteer to read to the blind, but only so i could change the endings to stories. "and then cinderella got run over by a gubernatorial candidate driving a greyhound bus." i would always use the word "gubernatorial," because i like the way it sounds.

i'm not a mean person, but i often envision my enemies getting crushed by randomly falling grand pianos. i took a vocational test once, and it told me that i should become a gardener. not that i have anything against flowers, don't get me wrong- but, well, i could never be a gardener. first of all, i really don't like mud. it gets beneath my fingernails, like mustard or pizza sauce. only not as tasty. second of all, i don't have the best track record when it come to taking care of plants. i left a potted family of, let's say peonies, outside during a rainstorm. they washed away. thirdly, you always see gardeners wearing sun hats or bonnets. i don't think either would be flattering on me.

is it wrong for me to think that the quality of my life will improve once i move into a different apartment? that's what you can do, editor- riddle me that.

jackie