Dear Mr. Melissa Blake:
Two words: Mind Dating.
First, yes, this is a term I've coined myself. Oh, I've mastered this one down to an art. Dinner. Dancing. Walks through Central Park. Carriage rides. Cuddles on sky-high ferris wheels. The whole kit and kaboodle. And ironically, every date was perfect. The guy didn't even flinch when I extended my hand instead of my lips for my trademark goodnight handshake.
What can I say? I've never been the sort of girl guys wrote love letters to, or sent roses to or passed a note to during a boring English class, when during said passing, you glance at his eyes and swear you see stars sparkling in them. True, all this happened in my head (so many times, frankly, that I just had to tell myself one day, "OK, no more lame fantasies." But still, in my mind, I can have any date I want - the date of my dreams, actually, man of my dreams included.
So you know what? I think it's about time you stepped up your game a little. After all. I've written countless songs-with-no-melody for you. I've even dedicated an entire category to you in the big blogosphere (I figure that's the '50s equivalent of saying "He's my steady,") so I don't think it's such a bad thing that I ask for a little something in return. And no, of course I'm not talking about that something. What do you think I am? A delicious piece of juicy meat?
I, for one, can't wait to see what you come up with. Hopefully, a lifetime of things. Until we meet...
[Photo via Le Love]