My Dearest Ellen,

Gracious, how long it’s been! Why, I don’t believe I’ve had the pleasure of your radiant company since we danced together at your brother’s wedding. Too long by half, fair cousin.

(I do apologize for the inclusion of Sam’s wayward eyebrow. Those things have no concept of personal space.)

Enclosed is a picture of me, being just too Kevin Bacon for my own damn good.

As so much has happened since we last tore it up, I beg only a few short lines to fill you in…

I started taking better care of myself.

I’m seeing someone new…

(#wordplay)

I’ve made Pinterest my prison wife.

I have resolved, many times, to watch less TV and dedicate myself to my studies. A resounding triumph, obviously.

.

And now I’ve moved home for the summer, where accommodations are decidedly less expensive.

I hope that this letter finds you well, and still the baddest of mama jamas.

I’ve also included an artists rendering of what you and I will look like in 20 years. I hope you are as trilled with the results as I am.

Yours Ever,

Whitney