battlesnore galactica

dear battlestar galactica,

do you remember when we first met? the passion and fire that filled our relationship? i used to tell everyone about you, about how happy i was to have found you. and it was true.

i used to get giddy with nervous excitement in the moments before our visits. and you reciprocated, filling our hours with the unexpected, so gritty and real and breathtaking.

but now, it's like i don't even recognize you.

the spark has gone. how am i supposed to be happy to see you when all you want to do is ramble on endlessly about the petty jealousies of your friends? i mean, really? who cares! if i wanted to hear about love gone sour i could talk to myself. you bore me with politics and psuedo-mystical claptrap. do you offer to take me out on adventures? no. do you introduce me to new people, new things? no. it's just the same old shit every week; disappointment, false drama, and pathetic attempts at getting some action.

if you don't like me any more, why don't you just leave? you've been making noise about "finding earth" for three years now. i think it's time you got off your ass and found it. those cylons you're so sure are chasing you might as well be cheerleaders for all the danger they pose. half of them can't seem to find their way out of a frackin' cocktail dress anyway. oooh... real scary my ass. the only way they could scare me is if they started trying to make a decision. talk about an endless, useless conversation.

so forget it. it's over. you can chuck my toothbrush and i'll mail you back your skivvies.

i'll be polite if i see you around but i think it's best if you don't call me for a while.

and sorry, but i better tell you before you hear it from someone else. i'm having a cheap fling with Grey's Anatomy. she's seriously irritating sometimes but at least she knows how to have fun. remember that? fun? no. probably not. frackin' drama queen.

goodbye,
xz