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An Open Letter to 2010

December 31, 2010

Dear 2010,
You are like the houseguest that just won’t leave. Even after we stop giving you fresh towels and start turning out the lights in rooms where you’re sitting, you stick around. But the time has come and as of midnight, you are gone. A new year will begin and I can’t help but feel positive about what 2011 holds. Surely your younger, more attractive sibling will be better than you. I mean 2009 was pretty crappy too, so there really couldn’t be three bad years in a row, right? Right?

I’ll admit that the last few months of this year have started looking up. And there were some good times earlier this year. But you started out harsh and cold. You treated us like you were trying to beat the optimism out of us with cold winds and really bad television.

I did a Google search for “the year in review” because it’s been so crazy that I couldn’t even remember what the heck all happened. Yahoo put together a site all about you, 2010, and apparently the top 5 searches for this year have been the BP oil spill, World Cup, Miley Cyrus, Kim Kardashian, and Lady Gaga.

That is what you have to show yourself. That is how you’ll be remembered 2010—the year of man-made disasters, vuvuzelas and women who make Tammy Faye Bakker look understated. And don’t forget about all the cheating husbands, the never-ending financial crisis, WikiLeaks, and Conan O’Brien being ousted from The Tonight Show.

Some people believe that the power of positive thinking will turn things around for the better. So I should just think positive thoughts about 2011 and everything will turn out like an early 90s sitcom. If this were true, I would have owned a pink Barbie convertible Power Wheels car as a kid. But bitterness won’t get me anywhere, so as of 12 a.m. I will part ways with you and not hold a grudge. I don’t think you purposely made life hard for everyone. It was just the luck of the draw. Your turn came up and the world was on its head trying to dig out of a whole host of crises.

So although you were a hard year, I bid you adieu and hope that the history books are kind to you. Except about the vuvuzelas. I hope they tear you a new one over those things.

Yours sincerely,
Tiffany Dorrin

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