MEMO TO MEN: A second chance at prom?

MEMORANDUM<br />TO: Men all over the planet<br />FROM: Melissa<br />RE: The joys of a second prom<br />DATE: April 12, 2012<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSzKFIArWOrs8NiekbWVQvPhYEr8GKJ54r8FgXX-sJca2VtWFuXccX1WS3yWL1diLqrkvCCqMvc2U09nE7YzdO5RKG6dePi24gBpP4P3LpLXEfCrsK5ASq2Q2ZynRJfEw6wVswLhxW7T4/s1600/aa2.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730508884503291058" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjSzKFIArWOrs8NiekbWVQvPhYEr8GKJ54r8FgXX-sJca2VtWFuXccX1WS3yWL1diLqrkvCCqMvc2U09nE7YzdO5RKG6dePi24gBpP4P3LpLXEfCrsK5ASq2Q2ZynRJfEw6wVswLhxW7T4/s400/aa2.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" /></a>I'm taking applications for Prom 2.0, boys! The shiny, glitzy and, yes, puffy dresses have been prominently displayed in every store window from Albany to Anchorage - blue, red, pink and orange shimmery gowns of all shapes and sizes.<br /><br />Yes, it's prom season. Can you feel - and smell - the love?<br /><br />I can't. Maybe it's because I never went to my prom.<br /><br />It wasn't because I couldn't find a dress small enough for my tiny body or because I had too many suitors vying for my love and affection.<br /><br />The truth: I had no interest in going at the time. Zero. Zilch. I feared having to take those all-too-awkward, yet obligatory prom photos - you've seem 'em, where the girl with gelled-up hair grins from ear-to-ear as her date can't exactly figure out where to place his hand because, after all, her dad is standing sternly off to the side glaring at said poor helpless boy.<br /><br />I dreaded making awkward small talk in the car as I nervously fiddled with my corsage because now, I was the one who couldn't figure out where to put her hands. But what I feared most was having to dance - yes, awkwardly again - to some Journey power ballad a la "16 Candles." And don't even get me going about the prom after-party at the bowling alley.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHxQWk-Ds_PHxOe560BAOZPUPGUiVTy64Oimjic1R_bCnjuK9uy4Xrk2LAhsehK5O4r0uaTGEHtcc9ghzMxwEsZ_w3qY13yPfPpaedOGF_79LpXN-z2QNpfy948x-eokGi6-9L_8FMksU/s1600/aa.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730508888685145458" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjHxQWk-Ds_PHxOe560BAOZPUPGUiVTy64Oimjic1R_bCnjuK9uy4Xrk2LAhsehK5O4r0uaTGEHtcc9ghzMxwEsZ_w3qY13yPfPpaedOGF_79LpXN-z2QNpfy948x-eokGi6-9L_8FMksU/s400/aa.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 287px;" /></a>Let's face it: The prom extravaganza stood as a torturous web I didn't have the strength to navigate. But now, some 12 years later, I get a bit misty eyed when I think of what could have been. Where is my corsage? Where is my '80s power ballad?<br /><br />As fate would have it, my cousin, Lindsay, came to my rescue a few years ago. For an entire month, she was in full-on prom mode. She found the perfect dress (a red bejeweled number). She shopped for shoes like Imelda Marcos. I'm sure she even circled April 26 in red pen, a color that matches the dress, of course, on every calendar within a 25-mile radius. The big day.<br /><br />And the best part is that she was gracious enough to let me vicariously have my very own prom experience. I oohed and ahhed at the pictures she sent me of her dress, and for the first time, I felt like that giggly 17-year-old girl again. When she began telling the tale of all the amenities that come with the limo, well, I could scarcely contain myself.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjegvudv0P5uHrTDQb9r0YANaHeRAIUzpCH8Ip-ApGdxRk_CN9H93thn-gEASC5Ehr8KQwNqrIiy3YnB1JHw26TS-LOhZycakJpvT97n5jWOHibrrLFlSqf1RalgEmDa2DZBBQD3eckQOs/s1600/aa3.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5730508882238225666" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjegvudv0P5uHrTDQb9r0YANaHeRAIUzpCH8Ip-ApGdxRk_CN9H93thn-gEASC5Ehr8KQwNqrIiy3YnB1JHw26TS-LOhZycakJpvT97n5jWOHibrrLFlSqf1RalgEmDa2DZBBQD3eckQOs/s400/aa3.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" /></a>So, with that in mind, boys, here's the deal: I'm surprised no one has ever had a "second" prom. A shameless shindig for those who want to reclaim their youth and their missed opportunities to sip punch and sway to the tunes. Although, now that all of us are a bit older, we may have to do a little tweaking of the classic prom paradigm. I picture something along the lines of a semi-lively bingo tournament complete with rows of sheet cake and glasses of apple juice. We'll laugh, sip, shout "BINGO" and be under our bed covers by 9 p.m. We have to think logical now, you know. We're not getting any younger. And please, no corsages allowed. Our allergies might flare up. xoxo<br /><br /><em><strong>P.S. Don't forget to enter the <a href="http://melissabxoxo.blogspot.com/2012/04/shopbop-100-gift-card-giveaway.html">Shopbop giveaway</a> for your chance to win $100 shopping spree!</strong></em><br /><br />[Photos via <a href="http://weheartit.com/">We Heart It</a>]

MEMO TO MEN: A second chance at prom?

MEMORANDUM TO: Men all over the planet FROM: Melissa RE: The joys of a second prom DATE: April 12, 2012 I'm taking applications for Prom...

Read more »

MEMO TO MEN: The value of honesty

MEMORANDUM<br />TO: Men all over the planet<br />FROM: Melissa<br />RE: The honest truth <br />DATE: March 27, 2012<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkoPu6_tenmmdOhAjgOaOZkYCcP3BFJo8psr5ekOZ8ZghOzSIiLqzTTJawzmaUyplO3jTPGL-K3-odMsqgihm_Sz7QC7zibFfyqDVA16sBhy8tScs16StrgLh0QoBB9ch1BguV-WL2hIs/s1600/aa2.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5724667005965993858" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgkoPu6_tenmmdOhAjgOaOZkYCcP3BFJo8psr5ekOZ8ZghOzSIiLqzTTJawzmaUyplO3jTPGL-K3-odMsqgihm_Sz7QC7zibFfyqDVA16sBhy8tScs16StrgLh0QoBB9ch1BguV-WL2hIs/s400/aa2.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 400px;" /></a>Boys, every so often when I'm watching TV, someone will say something that just resonates pure truth to me. Take a recent episode of <a href="http://beta.abc.go.com/shows/revenge">Revenge</a>, for example, in which <a href="http://melissabxoxo.blogspot.com/2011/12/man-candy-monday_26.html">this guy</a> utters these words...<br /><br /><em>Whether we're together for a day, a week, a year, 10 years or forever, I'll always be honest with you</em>.<br /><br />Oh, honesty. That little word. It's a pesky little word, isn't it, boys? And yet, it holds so much weight in relationships -- both romantic and platonic. Maybe that's why, then, it's always surprised me when I see basic honesty ranking pretty low on some people's priority list; sometimes, it seems like honesty isn't even valued at all, instead, merely cast aside as if it were yesterday's trend. Dishonesty. It's almost become one of those nasty habits. Sure, it starts out small. Maybe you tell little white lies about what you did with your friends last night. But before you know it, lies are rolling off your tongue so fast and easy that even you're beginning to believe them. It's a scary thought, isn't it? It would be so easy to fall in one fell swoop and fall down the rabbit hole of your lies.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7D8lw4ogmo4-2kkGWNvhH1cleIDaJfqyPmkeQD0wE2XBifLsHYx5HmFhGchlmHGJFfdGwhIEUCn6hjtwEeAgGVtSutEoFVg5UQThsu_THHRrxKzMrfNLvVY_XnXPj7EIsc7CpLwbDcR8/s1600/aa.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5724667004882579906" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEi7D8lw4ogmo4-2kkGWNvhH1cleIDaJfqyPmkeQD0wE2XBifLsHYx5HmFhGchlmHGJFfdGwhIEUCn6hjtwEeAgGVtSutEoFVg5UQThsu_THHRrxKzMrfNLvVY_XnXPj7EIsc7CpLwbDcR8/s400/aa.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 265px;" /></a>And by being honest, I'm not just talking about honesty when it's convenient for you, boys. I'm talking about full-blown, would-never-dream-of-lying honesty. There's comfort in knowing that at least one person in the world will always be honest with you, isn't there? It makes you feel as though you have someone to walk beside you in this crazy world, where everything can feel so uncertain at time. This can make all the difference in the world. I can guarantee that I will always be honest with you, boys. No matter what. Of all the ingredients for a healthy relationship, honesty takes the cake for me.<br /><br />Because honesty, boys, comes down to a matter of respect. Respect for the other person. Respect for the relationship. And of course, respect for yourself. It means that you value yourself and the other person to <em>want</em> to make things work, to try your best and see where this relationship will take you. And that's the honest truth, boys. What do you think...? xoxo<br /><br />[Photos via <a href="http://www.leloveimage.blogspot.com/">Le Love</a>]

MEMO TO MEN: The value of honesty

MEMORANDUM TO: Men all over the planet FROM: Melissa RE: The honest truth DATE: March 27, 2012 Boys, every so often when I'm watching TV...

Read more »

Beauty Queen

<em>It's sort of funny, but this one came to me as I was brushing my teeth and getting ready for bed last night. It's one of my more sassy ones about how not every girl is a Barbie Doll or a, well, beauty queen. It's a girl power anthem against fitting into that sort of mold because being real and being yourself is so much more beautiful. xoxo</em><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgihaUKHRukfN4iBKSlk0PVbBX0fLz-mH7HxasZh4RxcDTIYzY8G-IQgW5VUh31EAi9Hu-0NfArugRtXhdzK7scWkE04i_2eVSF2DcUyYXDg5mG6kqI2p4NfzEI32KqXpP1WOayctsmtLg/s1600/aa.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714245741851426258" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgihaUKHRukfN4iBKSlk0PVbBX0fLz-mH7HxasZh4RxcDTIYzY8G-IQgW5VUh31EAi9Hu-0NfArugRtXhdzK7scWkE04i_2eVSF2DcUyYXDg5mG6kqI2p4NfzEI32KqXpP1WOayctsmtLg/s400/aa.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 283px;" /></a><em><div align="center">Here she comes now<br />I can see her walking down the block<br />A picture of perfection with a million-dollar smile<br />Like she just walked off the assembly line<br /><br />Well, she's a walkin', talkin' beauty queen<br />That still don't mean she's got anything on me<br />So let her try to change the world<br />Bat those pretty little eyes<br />That don't mean there's any truth to her lies<br />Just remember, just remember, just remember<br />Sometimes the beauty queens are the ugly ones<br /><br />I know I don't look like her<br />You'd be surprised at what you'll find, if only you'd dig a little deeper<br />She may be a nice piece of arm candy to show off to everyone<br />But candy, it gets sour when left out in the sun too long<br /><br />Well, she's a walkin', talkin' beauty queen<br />That still don't mean she's got anything on me<br />So let her try to change the world<br />Bat those pretty little eyes<br />That don't mean there's any truth to her lies<br />Just remember, just remember, just remember<br />Sometimes the beauty queens are the ugly ones<br /><br />So you pinch her just to make sure she's really<br />And all the while, you wonder why you never feel anything when you're with her<br /><br />Well, she's a walkin', talkin' beauty queen<br />That still don't mean she's got anything on me<br />So let her try to change the world<br />Bat those pretty little eyes<br />That don't mean there's any truth to her lies<br />Just remember, just remember, just remember<br />Sometimes the beauty queens are the ugly ones<br /><br />Well, she's a walkin', talkin' beauty queen<br />That still don't mean she's got anything on me<br />So let her try to change the world<br />Bat those pretty little eyes<br />That don't mean there's any truth to her lies<br />Just remember, just remember, just remember<br />Sometimes the beauty queens are the ugly ones<br /><br />You never feel anything when you're with her</div></em><br /><br />[Photo via <a href="http://audreyhepburncomplex.tumblr.com/post/18043367374">Audrey Hepburn Complex</a>]

Beauty Queen

It's sort of funny, but this one came to me as I was brushing my teeth and getting ready for bed last night. It's one of my more sas...

Read more »

Question of the Week: Question #15

<em>Last week, I posted half of the recent interview I had with the lovely Sarah of <a href="http://www.yesandyes.org/">Yes and Yes</a>. She interviewed me for her True Story series, and I'd love to share the rest of my answers with you today, friends! I hope you enjoy it, and as always, feel free to send me your own questions to mellow1422 [at] aol [dot] com, or leave them in the comments below! xoxo</em><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKbt72uuJHv1BwWIK6WoaQ6P78xA1c2Pd_WKEFlol-qLuCu_d5KdzA3yz1a1hnTm-l3B7M62wZCY2BbNygSP5erbUhrwFcWjIINJamAXzYqtxF29K7UsYg4W9hv9KMiY2M4chh5waSivU/s1600/aa.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5714238034454439202" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgKbt72uuJHv1BwWIK6WoaQ6P78xA1c2Pd_WKEFlol-qLuCu_d5KdzA3yz1a1hnTm-l3B7M62wZCY2BbNygSP5erbUhrwFcWjIINJamAXzYqtxF29K7UsYg4W9hv9KMiY2M4chh5waSivU/s400/aa.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" /></a><strong>What are the biggest misconceptions about disability and dating? </strong><br />Definitely that women with disabilities aren't interested in dating. Sometimes, people forget that we're just like them. Maybe they think that we have "more important things to worry about," but we want love just like anyone else. <br /><br /><strong>How have the people in your life reacted to your dating life? </strong><br />Actually, people in my life haven't ever been very vocal about my dating life. I'm not sure if that's a good or a bad thing. Thank goodness, no one has ever said anything offensive. Maybe they didn't see me making a big deal about my dating life and took their cue from me. I've found with my disability that if people don't know what to say, then they don't say anything at all. And honestly, I'd rather have them ask than not ask. It's not like I have some big secret that I don't want to talk about. <br /><br /><strong>What advice would you give to anybody in a similar situation? </strong><br />Be honest. Be true to yourself. My parents raised me with the belief that I could do anything, and it's that sense of independence that has made me reach for so many things in life. Yes, there are obstacles in my way because of my disability, but I don't let them stop me. I'm grateful for all their encouragement.<br /><br />[Photo via <a href="http://www.leloveimage.blogspot.com/2012/02/gift-to-be-loved-by-you.html">Le Love</a>]

Question of the Week: Question #15

Last week, I posted half of the recent interview I had with the lovely Sarah of Yes and Yes . She interviewed me for her True Story series, ...

Read more »

An Open Letter To Rihanna

Dear Rihanna:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhneXhpLRAhiqMggpkVdaR9Ey2t02ixlnPNy7Hh7gEPfOZ1ni-W82YI5dBmEv1ud4irJa_KJqtfL4fhHplOf2uzYKFyk5ztoIlFNJ3pfshunUAXvOVcovyQONkbtjUDs5el8tq7Fnkjc5A/s1600/01.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5713918195370238690" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhneXhpLRAhiqMggpkVdaR9Ey2t02ixlnPNy7Hh7gEPfOZ1ni-W82YI5dBmEv1ud4irJa_KJqtfL4fhHplOf2uzYKFyk5ztoIlFNJ3pfshunUAXvOVcovyQONkbtjUDs5el8tq7Fnkjc5A/s400/01.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" /></a>I've always admired you. You've always projected this air of strength and independence that is so inspiring, especially in today's world where those very things are so easily looked down on. You're fearless. You're the woman who isn't afraid of anything.<br /><br />But now? Well, I'm worried that I'm worrying enough for the both of us. You see, ever since I discovered that you're <a href="http://www.huffingtonpost.com/2012/02/20/rihanna-chris-brown-reunite-on-two-remixes_n_1289805.html?ncid=edlinkusaolp00000003">possibly collaborating with Chris Brown</a>, I can't help but feel like my heart is sinking just a little bit. I worry about you. I'm sad for you. Everyone and their brother seems to be mad at you, and I'll admit that my face was red with rage when I first heard the news. A million little questions ran through my mind, like...<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">What is she thinking?<br />How stupid must she be?<br />Did she just forget everything he did to her?</span><br /><br />And the more I thought about it -- and the more questions I asked myself -- the more I realized just how anger-fueled these questions were. To paraphrase Adele, there was a fire burning in my heart. I was seething mad. Just like the rest of the world. But unlike the rest of the world, I'm not angry with you. I'm angry -- burning with anger, remember -- at him. <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwS2TOBoX3C2w9KLHFlQZyLMgy33-9mhZ1NwrWMRkfYRYBga-mIxmoTAxVun-26Mz-98VNVAxlSDTYwNSpRKhVPImljF6VnAq3m9tR1x_FHkrGCoE9WznuG-tWOgZ4VZQGs8mpJzVn8Eg/s1600/02.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5713918191598373410" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiwS2TOBoX3C2w9KLHFlQZyLMgy33-9mhZ1NwrWMRkfYRYBga-mIxmoTAxVun-26Mz-98VNVAxlSDTYwNSpRKhVPImljF6VnAq3m9tR1x_FHkrGCoE9WznuG-tWOgZ4VZQGs8mpJzVn8Eg/s400/02.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" /></a>So that's precisely what this letter is about. It's about how you're worth it. It's about how no guy is worth any part of you if he doesn't respect all of you. You're deserving of a love in which you don't have to compromise or settle. Yes, it can be scary to move on, but a lot of times, we're stronger than we give ourselves credit for. Sometimes moving on means getting in touch with that stronger self we never knew we had.<br /><br />You once sang about finding love in a hopeless place. Maybe that love isn't with another person. Maybe it's a love for yourself. Because once you have that love (it's the sort of greatest love of all that the great Whitney Houston once sang of...), no one -- especially a guy -- can take it away from you. It's yours. There's a certain power in knowing that, isn't there? So, I hope you'll find it. On your own terms, because you most certainly deserve it.<br /><br />[Photos via <a href="http://www.thefrisky.com/">The Frisky</a> and <a href="http://www.leloveimage.blogspot.com/">Le Love</a>]

An Open Letter To Rihanna

Dear Rihanna: I've always admired you. You've always projected this air of strength and independence that is so inspiring, especiall...

Read more »

Question of the Week: Question #14

<span style="font-style:italic;">Today's question is more of a series of questions from Sarah of <a href="http://www.yesandyes.org/">Yes and Yes</a>. She recently asked me half a dozen questions for her interview series, and I thought you'd like a little peek at my answers, friends. Here are the first three questions. Look for the other three next week. xoxo</span><br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNGIFxiaMic5u_rrIm7CPhWgX8Yb20069LUw0EweeVb8kYR6w5uI7-GB4-CAiFau5rMiXcXUxd8b1DOt8I5KfWExoOmFo0Eg0yBhN120XrYCFAUSQA9BPVIM9VoAHR0n4o9eqvAn7n-28/s1600/01.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5711613747663827394" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNGIFxiaMic5u_rrIm7CPhWgX8Yb20069LUw0EweeVb8kYR6w5uI7-GB4-CAiFau5rMiXcXUxd8b1DOt8I5KfWExoOmFo0Eg0yBhN120XrYCFAUSQA9BPVIM9VoAHR0n4o9eqvAn7n-28/s400/01.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 314px;" /></a><span style="font-weight:bold;">Can you tell us a bit about your disability?</span><br />I was born with <a href="http://ghr.nlm.nih.gov/condition/freeman-sheldon-syndrome">Freeman-Sheldon Syndrome</a>, a bone and muscular disorder. I've had about 26 surgeries to correct my bones and joints. Despite my disability, I've lead a pretty normal life: Graduated from college with a degree in journalism and now working as an adviser for a college newspaper. I enjoy getting young people excited about journalism and writing.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">How does your disability affect your dating life? </span><br />Of anything in my life, my disability has affected my dating life the most. I'm usually a pretty self-confident person, but when it comes to dating, I've always been a bit self-conscious. I often worry that guys won't be able to see past my disability.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">Tell us about your dream guy! </span><br />Oh, definitely someone who can make me laugh. Laughter is one of the most important things in life, and any guy with a sense of humor has my heart. I'm also a romantic at heart, so I love guys who are romantic and charming. My family mean the world to me, and you know a guy is a keeper if he's close with his family. <br /><br />[Photo via <a href="http://www.leloveimage.blogspot.com/2012/02/read-between-lines.html">Le Love</a>]

Question of the Week: Question #14

Today's question is more of a series of questions from Sarah of Yes and Yes . She recently asked me half a dozen questions for her inter...

Read more »

My 100-Word Love Story: On how my vacation fling turned into the real thing

<div align="center"> </div><a href="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7177/6913638833_92ed3ca372_z.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7177/6913638833_92ed3ca372_z.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 10px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 603px;" /></a>Vacation romances aren't meant to last. They are just flings. Traveling to Seattle was a last-minute decision. Life was a mess. Just before I left, my company folded. Romance wasn't in the picture. Then I met Russell. I was sitting at a computer searching for a job at a hostel, and he came by. The moment I saw him, I knew he was The One. He became my best friend. It was the romance that shouldn't have worked, but three years later, we have a daughter, are engaged and happy.<br /><br /><strong>--By Samantha from <a href="http://www.reinventedsamantha.blogspot.com">Reinvented In Seattle</a></strong>

My 100-Word Love Story: On how my vacation fling turned into the real thing

Vacation romances aren't meant to last. They are just flings. Traveling to Seattle was a last-minute decision. Life was a mess. Just be...

Read more »

My 100-Word Love Story: On how the brainiac fell for the jock

<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCV7no1Y9Gr_VdhYiuDNivwTahwyE-YN9wWXiALCFYqiXOldzdnU_EH_x1E_TfYVPlYgWPT0DwuWNGabcRHzqYI1jWd4YhagiZOmaO0P5F7Jw9J3guUJbGE3ZFN4mib2bARrTVrbvr8kU/s1600/01.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5711271940316849570" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhCV7no1Y9Gr_VdhYiuDNivwTahwyE-YN9wWXiALCFYqiXOldzdnU_EH_x1E_TfYVPlYgWPT0DwuWNGabcRHzqYI1jWd4YhagiZOmaO0P5F7Jw9J3guUJbGE3ZFN4mib2bARrTVrbvr8kU/s400/01.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" /></a>It was the stuff of teenage dreams. The <span style="font-style:italic;">jock</span> and the <span style="font-style:italic;">brain</span> were forced to sit together for the whole semester, far from their respective groups. Julian and I were that odd pair. I was so close-minded that when he first sat with me, I started counting the future tragedies. But as time went by, people started wondering why laughter and endless chattering often came from that particular spot. Yes, I had a crush on him. Him. I don’t know. However, he was the first person to say "<span style="font-style:italic;">You're beautiful</span>" and the first to offer friendship. I’m grateful for knowing him.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">--By Aisa from <a href="http://lovesand.blogspot.com/">LoveSand</a></span>

My 100-Word Love Story: On how the brainiac fell for the jock

It was the stuff of teenage dreams. The jock and the brain were forced to sit together for the whole semester, far from their respective g...

Read more »

My 100-Word Love Story: On surviving the friend zone

<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj76DtgIK7VnnLRSbqdC-vmwXdoqSnukgGYyCbPNTDbUcuCLTj69EBXe1XBJHJbBKXR3eHAnBO4LUUpTDPFyI-OXqLTcos_H05vRQLV4h0k1It33FegfDf9mCK04wPS6PwTIZKjeLeqgdg/s1600/love.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709918365758107186" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj76DtgIK7VnnLRSbqdC-vmwXdoqSnukgGYyCbPNTDbUcuCLTj69EBXe1XBJHJbBKXR3eHAnBO4LUUpTDPFyI-OXqLTcos_H05vRQLV4h0k1It33FegfDf9mCK04wPS6PwTIZKjeLeqgdg/s400/love.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" /></a>JJ and I met during my first week in college. He eventually became one of my best friends -- my constant moral support. Slowly but surely, I began to see him as more. We became a couple on October 18, 2011. Right now, he’s in London studying abroad. Times are tough, and while he’s not perfect, I love him and miss him dearly. I can’t wait for him to come home. I’ve been through rocky relationships, but he tells me I’m worth being loved. Everyone is. He gives me hope and shows me every day what love really means.<br /><br /><strong>--By Jennifer Ramos from <a href="http://www.lifelovewhy.com/">Life, Love and Why</a></strong>

My 100-Word Love Story: On surviving the friend zone

JJ and I met during my first week in college. He eventually became one of my best friends -- my constant moral support. Slowly but surely, I...

Read more »

My 100-Word Love Story: On marrying my best friend

<div align="center"> </div><a href="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7198/6886379433_b317dc55cf_z.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7198/6886379433_b317dc55cf_z.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 535px;" /></a>I realized that I loved him late one night. March 2008. Watching a movie. Sipping a red <em>way</em> past its prime. We had just attempted our <em>second</em> first date -- sushi. <br /><br />I sat there nervously, hoping he wouldn't notice the ferocious pounding in my chest. And after four years of friendship, I didn't just want him to kiss me, I wanted him to want me. And he did. <br /><br />This August, he asked me to share my life with him. I, of course, agreed! After knowing him eight years, I'm still surprised when I must remind my heart to be still. <br /><br /><strong>--By Ryan from <a href="http://www.thismustbetheplaceryan.blogspot.com/">This Must Be The Place</a></strong>

My 100-Word Love Story: On marrying my best friend

I realized that I loved him late one night. March 2008. Watching a movie. Sipping a red way past its prime. We had just attempted our seco...

Read more »

MEMO TO MEN: In defense of letting your guard down

MEMORANDUM<br />TO: Men all over the planet<br />FROM: Melissa<br />RE: Looks can be deceiving <br />DATE: February 15, 2012<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXQVBgXGj_O0-Hr0a6clFUPWMRUz_iQc3BsceiEjffZGNE3haTHr_U68NgJRjE9oUlTFPGa91QaIuWByf8cvFnArjfWYcScFKp3DlXN0KYMNVi9Jbj8CJCqxmgcwP4whOtAB2kGUimpII/s1600/01.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709399055629175346" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXQVBgXGj_O0-Hr0a6clFUPWMRUz_iQc3BsceiEjffZGNE3haTHr_U68NgJRjE9oUlTFPGa91QaIuWByf8cvFnArjfWYcScFKp3DlXN0KYMNVi9Jbj8CJCqxmgcwP4whOtAB2kGUimpII/s400/01.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" /></a>Everything looks good from the outside, boys. Perfect, even. The house on the end of the busy street, with its perfectly manicured lawn and its beautiful olive-green shutters. The majestic blue 1950s Corvette, its fresh coat of paint still soft to the touch.<br /><br />I'm thinking the same logic applies to people, too, and I can't help but question: Why is it so hard to tell people how we really feel? Why do we feel like we have to hide? And, if we're always putting on an act for people, doesn't it become that much harder to truly know someone?<br /><br />I'll be the first to admit that years ago -- and especially the first few years after my father's death -- whenever anyone asked the all-too-popular question, "How are you," I'd reply like I usually do.<br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">"Oh I'm fine."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">"I can't complain."</span><br /><br /><span style="font-style:italic;">"I'm good. And you?"</span><br /><br />I'm not really sure if I actually believed it, or if I had just said it so often that I tricked myself into believing I believed it. I got really good at it, though. It's not anyone's fault. No one is to blame, of course; it's just that we're a product of our culture, whether we like it or not. We expect people to "pull themselves up by their boot straps," to be the strong, silent type. Any hint of emotion and we get scared.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXjgNbCcrP9QJcb6G4Di45lUxtsMUzcV3f8R7NHJ449JwFaNoKoYHOx7VagBh00c83PZ_c4RPhiC9AAZq6Tp6x1R5Ssarc7rZlO3jc-B0n-oQbFyjePmrdHUhnBbDYDCW2QQRMEANNYxE/s1600/02.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709399051831701842" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgXjgNbCcrP9QJcb6G4Di45lUxtsMUzcV3f8R7NHJ449JwFaNoKoYHOx7VagBh00c83PZ_c4RPhiC9AAZq6Tp6x1R5Ssarc7rZlO3jc-B0n-oQbFyjePmrdHUhnBbDYDCW2QQRMEANNYxE/s400/02.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 263px;" /></a>Sadly, though, there has to be some point where we realize that's not healthy. We can't get to know someone, really know them, if we're not willing to get to know all of them. Scars and flaws and problems included. <br /><br />What would our world look like if, instead of soldiering our emotions, we laid them out. Not because we want sympathy (<span style="font-style:italic;">OK, maybe sometimes we do</span>), but because we can't go through life alone. We need people. No one is an island, contrary to that pesky rumor Simon and Garfunkel started.<br /><br />I challenge you this week, boys, to shred those stock answers you give — and get. Dig a little deeper. You just might realize you're not so scared of what you find after all. xoxo<br /><br />[Photos via <a href="http://www.leloveimage.blogspot.com/">Le Love</a>]

MEMO TO MEN: In defense of letting your guard down

MEMORANDUM TO: Men all over the planet FROM: Melissa RE: Looks can be deceiving DATE: February 15, 2012 Everything looks good from the outsi...

Read more »

Letters To My Future Husband: Letter #150.

Dear Mr. Melissa Blake:<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVgljf9bJM57p47HW0He2WoolxDnsnKaCEAcrSjsI_eHB673XtyoWLgQiteF2xw3zK3FzyCcI4XcxIC-MkxTi-p_x-6xWzrhLxzRzq27NUueJL1uqHBWHd8MrQo9NJ9uXNAJ-Yoz_JR4o/s1600/aa2.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709071734797756018" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhVgljf9bJM57p47HW0He2WoolxDnsnKaCEAcrSjsI_eHB673XtyoWLgQiteF2xw3zK3FzyCcI4XcxIC-MkxTi-p_x-6xWzrhLxzRzq27NUueJL1uqHBWHd8MrQo9NJ9uXNAJ-Yoz_JR4o/s400/aa2.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 240px;" /></a>Well, Sweetpea, today marks my 30th Valentine's Day eating from my small box of assorted chocolates as a singleton. It's sort of weird to fathom. As I sat in the waiting room this morning waiting to get my blood drawn (<em>ironic, on Valentine's Day, I know...</em>), I watched as several beautifully decorated bouquets arrived for doctors, nurses and lab technicians. You'd think it would have made my heart ache just a teeny tiny bit.<br /><br />Surprisingly, it didn't. At all. A few years ago, I may have ended up a puddle of tears right there on that linoleum floor, scared that love would never find me, that I'd be left to live the rest of my days as a spunky spinster and waxing poetic about how I was just generally unlovable.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj-Z1M52PcgiZmunatAyAWU9Ej63-KM7oMLnM9U1viSb6wZpOMQsMixI9GcIqVBtc1MneW4xK1JVyVDUcjqkJNewhD0snvq0yIY8vq_AABFQBJDiVwMmDNS5F8ZXCoQ2iPMH3kD8qRIr0/s1600/aa.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5709071736239116210" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgj-Z1M52PcgiZmunatAyAWU9Ej63-KM7oMLnM9U1viSb6wZpOMQsMixI9GcIqVBtc1MneW4xK1JVyVDUcjqkJNewhD0snvq0yIY8vq_AABFQBJDiVwMmDNS5F8ZXCoQ2iPMH3kD8qRIr0/s400/aa.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 296px;" /></a>But not this year. I've vowed to embrace my singlehood. And you know what, Sweetpea? It all feels very liberating. It makes me want to burst into song a la a Broadway musical. Now, it doesn't mean I'm not looking forward to meeting you, or that I don't need you in my life because I am -- and I do. I suppose it's just that right now, in 2012, I'm realizing that my world isn't going to end if I'm unattached for awhile. I'm probably the one making a big deal of it, not everyone else. Maybe I just need to live and let things fall place naturally. <br /><br />But I do wonder: At what age do you qualify for spinsterhood? I can't help but laugh at the thought of that. After all, if you don't laugh, you cry, right, Sweetpea? Until we meet...<br /><br />P.S. Oh shoot, Crimson and Clover just came on the radio on the way home. Is that a message from you? What? You don't know about my secret wish to have that as our wedding song? Well, more on that later?... :)<br /><br />[Photos via <a href="http://www.weheartit.com">We Heart It</a>]

Letters To My Future Husband: Letter #150.

Dear Mr. Melissa Blake: Well, Sweetpea, today marks my 30th Valentine's Day eating from my small box of assorted chocolates as a singlet...

Read more »

My 100-Word Love Story: On connecting through Facebook and college football games

<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNwe3xJ7xneD0t4Ei0-PVKcv7jiYL9q7pLe5wDoLUkWYK3EcqIeuNZ60vrDnGA2tZzcFw1la5TyYi-bndcZW5bv7BAnAL0e-gT1K7Ud0JVAoEBkE2tSqhyUKPPQoo5PSpIuvgQ-MTw_ww/s1600/aa.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5708363472356981090" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiNwe3xJ7xneD0t4Ei0-PVKcv7jiYL9q7pLe5wDoLUkWYK3EcqIeuNZ60vrDnGA2tZzcFw1la5TyYi-bndcZW5bv7BAnAL0e-gT1K7Ud0JVAoEBkE2tSqhyUKPPQoo5PSpIuvgQ-MTw_ww/s400/aa.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 340px;" /></a>Through a random act of Facebook contact, running into each other on campus and unknowingly sitting near each other at football games, I met my best friend (<em>and boyfriend</em>) during college. When I found out that his football student-ticket seat was near mine, I decided that the time had come -- I had to make a move! We hung out during that football game, after that game and we still hang out for games today! We’ve been together through two college transfers, three years of long-distance love across two states and a total of four awesome years!<br /><br /><strong>--By Ashley Parsons from <a href="http://www.thesweetashleylife.blogspot.com/">The Sweet Life</a></strong>

My 100-Word Love Story: On connecting through Facebook and college football games

Through a random act of Facebook contact, running into each other on campus and unknowingly sitting near each other at football games, I met...

Read more »

My 100-Word Love Story: On meeting my soul mate in elementary school

<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKfKXM5UtSZ-WEVbmWNwb_elPsM94-RuYCC0EWSMLEGMMTHvnU7jgt2LcT0s9UbF7d_fBsvl6nTTe9xtNE_j29tAj5UDvDxAobi_cI-MPSv24FMuw9Hh4Pu0hwBHL-U1iCLNnvRmyZFMM/s1600/aa"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5707504332723680818" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiKfKXM5UtSZ-WEVbmWNwb_elPsM94-RuYCC0EWSMLEGMMTHvnU7jgt2LcT0s9UbF7d_fBsvl6nTTe9xtNE_j29tAj5UDvDxAobi_cI-MPSv24FMuw9Hh4Pu0hwBHL-U1iCLNnvRmyZFMM/s400/aa" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" /></a>My husband teased me in elementary school. He wrote me love notes in middle school. And he was one of my best friends in high school. After we graduated, he was my confidant and my rock; he called me long distance to give me advice, tell me about his day and to make sure I was doing okay. We grew up together, we saw beautiful places together and then one summer night as we stared up at the stars, he said to me, "I've loved you for as long as I can remember." And I've loved him back ever since.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE1MUIzxja2-m8Uh3wA-Je0e8EBUmaGjUQOGmLH8ro8TUp7k55CXSEuH2wEys4a4b8_tuK78rzAKI8I2JFpxbBF-uyk4ourmj3RlMJywv_oCJwUi7zxKnpExlMzAbFCHx9OseTCo82FII/s1600/aa2.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5707504330257672674" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEiE1MUIzxja2-m8Uh3wA-Je0e8EBUmaGjUQOGmLH8ro8TUp7k55CXSEuH2wEys4a4b8_tuK78rzAKI8I2JFpxbBF-uyk4ourmj3RlMJywv_oCJwUi7zxKnpExlMzAbFCHx9OseTCo82FII/s400/aa2.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 299px;" /></a>(<em>The couple in middle school</em>)<br /><br /><strong>--By Stephanie from <a href="http://artistwifemom.blogspot.com/">Adventures of an Artist, Wife and Mom</a></strong>

My 100-Word Love Story: On meeting my soul mate in elementary school

My husband teased me in elementary school. He wrote me love notes in middle school. And he was one of my best friends in high school. After ...

Read more »

My 100-Word Love Story: On being able to laugh at yourself

<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghR-lZnNCMuFpSJ7o63A-ItXmQLSNMQ7IQ_Yyxi0wm2ZVb1LUKjWKd1cdwaZLBznKxaYdBXfPTh7cKMB6DFzYV3BLXSjob8A-C1TnRoIGgBHDFGo5MtJy-knpbAKuPJzDGzERy7MziOx0/s1600/00"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5707183495743607250" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEghR-lZnNCMuFpSJ7o63A-ItXmQLSNMQ7IQ_Yyxi0wm2ZVb1LUKjWKd1cdwaZLBznKxaYdBXfPTh7cKMB6DFzYV3BLXSjob8A-C1TnRoIGgBHDFGo5MtJy-knpbAKuPJzDGzERy7MziOx0/s400/00" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 300px;" /></a>In college, I got involved in a week-long charity event. I fancied the leader of the group so much that I did something I had never done before: Sing in public! But not just any singing -- karaoke singing of a Karen Carpenter song. Couldn’t have picked something more difficult, could I?! For years, I looked back in horror and embarrassment, especially since he chose another girl from the charity group instead of me. Now I can’t even remember his name. Moral of the story: No matter how bad it seems now, in 10 years, you won’t even remember his name.<br /><br /><strong>--By Roanna from <a href="http://www.lavaligiadiroanna.blogspot.com/">La valigia di Roanna</a></strong><br /><br /><em>P.S. Congrats, Roanna, on the little one on the way! :)</em>

My 100-Word Love Story: On being able to laugh at yourself

In college, I got involved in a week-long charity event. I fancied the leader of the group so much that I did something I had never done bef...

Read more »

Love Lounge: What would you include in your relationship agreement?

<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvUAltCEww7Fe1IASXuRSg6U1877aXGltLhZab5-3oc6yfFZbMPszyRFzh-Y0_hikZekMzgOFG7_opQ5Io9LGutgEnDefE2OtZ9q-Fq95Tp4lRwhp3UouGpOL9L3BO5mW-XyXZx7-ZyUM/s1600/01.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5707179948724701954" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjvUAltCEww7Fe1IASXuRSg6U1877aXGltLhZab5-3oc6yfFZbMPszyRFzh-Y0_hikZekMzgOFG7_opQ5Io9LGutgEnDefE2OtZ9q-Fq95Tp4lRwhp3UouGpOL9L3BO5mW-XyXZx7-ZyUM/s400/01.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" /></a>Confession: I'm not very good at spontaneity, though you've probably already figured that out by now. Frankly, flying by the seat of my pants, especially when it comes to falling in love, terrifies me. Maybe that's why I can identify so much with new lovebird Amy and Sheldon from <a href="http://melissabxoxo.blogspot.com/2011/09/fall-tv-shows.html">The Big Bang Theory</a>. They, like me, have no idea what they're doing, so they draft a little Relationship Agreement to help them navigate these new dating waters -- some <a href="http://melissabxoxo.blogspot.com/2011/07/love-lounge-what-are-your-dating-dos.html">relationship dos and don'ts</a>, if you will. A job description with a romantic twist. They define, on paper, their relationship, so that both are on the same page (<em>pun intended...</em>).<br /><br />It got me thinking: Would that really translate to real life? Could you really take something so intangible like love and put neat little parameters around it? I'm not quite sure, but there are some things I'm certain would go on my Relationship Agreement...<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZKvThpN-qNC0-MaladqQ6X5MG9IZ16fNih6fPnjriC2RAcVAxDyQye6SVxFaJus0dWr1BkXjqSH90Jaz7HU8TO0dfsAFkdivGYB269YJoe4nuOUtNqlI_rRH_voqB74zWIGVMWlcO_7o/s1600/02.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5707178638528173282" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEhZKvThpN-qNC0-MaladqQ6X5MG9IZ16fNih6fPnjriC2RAcVAxDyQye6SVxFaJus0dWr1BkXjqSH90Jaz7HU8TO0dfsAFkdivGYB269YJoe4nuOUtNqlI_rRH_voqB74zWIGVMWlcO_7o/s400/02.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" /></a><em>*Neither party shall go to bed angry.<br /><br />*Hand holding is discouraged in public.<br /><br />*All date cancellations must be made at least one day before date was supposed to take place.<br /><br />*All dates must be made at least a week in advance. Time, location and date activity must be agreed upon by both parties.<br /><br />*When either party falls ill, he/she shall be showered with chicken soup and the movie of his/her choice.</em><br /><br />Bottom line: Planning is romantic in its own way. It shows you care enough about the other person to invest a large part of yourself into making the relationship work. After all, you wouldn't make a Relationship Agreement with just anyone. It's reserved for those special people who you really feel a connection with -- those people you can see yourself with in the future. And that's a pretty special thing, if you ask me. <br /><br />When I find myself in that first relationship someday, like Sheldon, I may not know what I'm doing, but I do know one thing. I'll be armed with my own version of a Relationship Agreement. Pen included.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFMovky41nnonfX8InM-R7uWEGLdF4IaxmqWphD-rhCfK0zqpSxpnf0wmzZwOeU1yybx-PiDDEZ7Mc-dl097rlan0vlLULxooFJJe2g49Yvy9G-WGcNQc-vZanTJwv0QUR5oMlwPrZ99g/s1600/03.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5707178633773280418" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgFMovky41nnonfX8InM-R7uWEGLdF4IaxmqWphD-rhCfK0zqpSxpnf0wmzZwOeU1yybx-PiDDEZ7Mc-dl097rlan0vlLULxooFJJe2g49Yvy9G-WGcNQc-vZanTJwv0QUR5oMlwPrZ99g/s400/03.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" /></a><strong>So, tell me, friends, do you think a Relationship Agreement is unrealistic in real life? Would it even work? What sorts of things would you include in your list? Do you think men and women would put different things at the top of their lists? And for fun, what TV couple do you identify with the most? xoxo</strong>

Love Lounge: What would you include in your relationship agreement?

Confession: I'm not very good at spontaneity, though you've probably already figured that out by now. Frankly, flying by the seat of...

Read more »

My 100-Word Love Story: On finding my first love

<em>I'm so excited to share the first story in our special <a href="http://melissabxoxo.blogspot.com/search/label/valentine%27s%20day">Valentine's Day</a> series, friends! For the rest of the week and next week, look for a new ode to love every day! xoxo</em><br /><div align="center"> </div><a href="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7144/6843512069_a343999eaf_z.jpg"><img alt="" border="0" src="http://farm8.staticflickr.com/7144/6843512069_a343999eaf_z.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 533px;" /></a>When I first met Joshua through a friend of a friend I thought: Cute, cool and a genuine guy...hard to find at the age of 17! Time passes, and he experiences his first love. Then six months later, his first heart break. I had no intention of making a move; we were firm friends at this point, so I was merely supportive -- sharing typical metal music when he needed to rage. We went from From friends to best friends, and on September 12, 2010, we started our own relationship. I am so glad I can share my future with Joshua -- mi grande oso (<em>my big bear in Spanish</em>).<br /><br /><strong>--By Sophie from <a href="http://thebirdsongsxx.blogspot.com/">The Bird Song</a></strong>

My 100-Word Love Story: On finding my first love

I'm so excited to share the first story in our special Valentine's Day series, friends! For the rest of the week and next week, loo...

Read more »

MEMO TO MEN: Playing the game of love

MEMORANDUM<br />TO: Men all over the planet<br />FROM: Melissa<br />RE: The big game <br />DATE: February 6, 2012<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijyUl9jH2J0AA7_O0eeuoI1t-k-t5IEyM_80naEvCDBGKQ27PTTfBU-WqnT0FjmoD-3IiXkKkmI40NXVQXLJ7p9y5clF61L1Jc2RSLOc4Eu2B3yeR7I6jzhxXCQkGuJFzv1tw-wFj3QWU/s1600/01.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706060568948789922" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEijyUl9jH2J0AA7_O0eeuoI1t-k-t5IEyM_80naEvCDBGKQ27PTTfBU-WqnT0FjmoD-3IiXkKkmI40NXVQXLJ7p9y5clF61L1Jc2RSLOc4Eu2B3yeR7I6jzhxXCQkGuJFzv1tw-wFj3QWU/s400/01.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" /></a>So, boys, as I understand it, there was a pretty important sporting event yesterday. Frankly, I'm not too surprised that I almost missed it. Honestly, I'm not really a sports fan. They've never really been my speed -- all that competition, stress and sweat? Who could possibly stand all that?<br /><br />Well, apparently a large portion of the American population. There are people that live for this day, who hold it in high esteem above all other days. But this year, I thought differently. I wanted to be one with this national pastime; well, OK, that's sort of a lie. I really only wanted to use the Super Bowl as an excuse to eat all that delicious food. And enjoy that food I did, but not before I tuned in to the game just for a few moments -- for good measure, of course. <br /><br />And then I realized something: All this football business is a lot like love. Sometimes eerily similar, actually. Don't believe me, boys? I give the connections between football and the tango of love...<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4UfJoSg-6S3kG9wZtGP4_2JPUsKtmH61MEcEGD0wcjQKw-8FoqngEBo45VlCCWuG-2SwkmMFJjWWwt7rcssQsgyMkc6la_mcrHF6qJJk9NVSat-f4zTEaBuJHYy7dc6cXGXVMNofOAHE/s1600/02.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706060558934608466" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEg4UfJoSg-6S3kG9wZtGP4_2JPUsKtmH61MEcEGD0wcjQKw-8FoqngEBo45VlCCWuG-2SwkmMFJjWWwt7rcssQsgyMkc6la_mcrHF6qJJk9NVSat-f4zTEaBuJHYy7dc6cXGXVMNofOAHE/s400/02.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 267px;" /></a><span style="font-weight:bold;">It's all one giant game of chase</span><br />Chasing something. Running from something. Sending mixed signals in an effort to confuse yoir opponent. In football and in love, you want one thing: To win. It's just in football, you want to win by capturing the ball (<span style="font-style:italic;">is that even correct?</span>), and in love, you want to win by capturing someone's heart. But when you think about it, sometimes the chase is half the fun. There's a palpable excitement during the game (<span style="font-style:italic;">both the game of football and the game of love</span>) that can make all the stress and worry wash away, if only for a little while. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">There's so much anticipation leading up to one game</span><br />You create this fantasy in our heads about how wonderful it's going to be. Sometimes that fantasy turns out to be true. Sometimes, well, it doesn't. But no matter the outcome, the power of the fantasy is <span style="font-style:italic;">real</span> -- maybe more real than anything you've ever experienced. You get a thrill just thinking about what it <span style="font-style:italic;">could</span> be like, what the outcome <span style="font-style:italic;">could</span> be, what we <span style="font-style:italic;">could</span> say and how we <span style="font-style:italic;">could</span> feel. It all spins through our head faster than that tiny football can fly through the air. <br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">There's competition and sizing each other up</span><br />When it comes to love, like in football, we can be vicious. You get jealous and angry and confused and frustrated. Love tirelessly messes with you, and you sometimes start to wonder why you ever started comparing yourself to others in the first place. After all, they seem bigger, stronger, faster and more quick-on-their-feet than you are. But then you realize that you have something they'll never have: The courage to make it all the way to the 50-yard line (<span style="font-style:italic;">again, is that even correct? </span>)<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">It drags on for far too long</span><br />Sometimes, like in football, you just can't let you. Just when you think it's over, it pulls you right back in; you even try to avoid it, but sometimes, things just go on and on and on.<br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXgPQlv8UatILYl4DuwZj0-i56S7RTNzkI5fk-ZZEwwS2ABgHt4zXOkV5eAtrhcb1HflzAkLlfEFvXRAnXT7EGp8ufgtKQQT7h1sqhFeDgciNpL0qWWeMrZU5eHcWubaEPCgT9heQTVAI/s1600/03.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706060559037189810" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjXgPQlv8UatILYl4DuwZj0-i56S7RTNzkI5fk-ZZEwwS2ABgHt4zXOkV5eAtrhcb1HflzAkLlfEFvXRAnXT7EGp8ufgtKQQT7h1sqhFeDgciNpL0qWWeMrZU5eHcWubaEPCgT9heQTVAI/s400/03.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 266px;" /></a>So, what do you think, boys? I can't help but think I'm on to something here. And who knows...maybe I'll even learn to like football one day... xoxo<br /><br />[Photos via <a href="http://dreamyourselfalong.tumblr.com/">Dream Yourself Along Another Day</a>]

MEMO TO MEN: Playing the game of love

MEMORANDUM TO: Men all over the planet FROM: Melissa RE: The big game DATE: February 6, 2012 So, boys, as I understand it, there was a prett...

Read more »

Wanted: 100-word love stories

<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmuVSC82evvcEzNx-FpNl0dQcgLayl4qdusovnTajEgdoqAD4s4WgrFKtUs0-7taUiHX0nhrPJzWrWDF_SBuQ48ktO0gHamjw_xYDto7nGXfTXvTpJU9RtVlDJyWQxcz7smmLXkuL7_CE/s1600/01.png" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5706066645050142274" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEjmuVSC82evvcEzNx-FpNl0dQcgLayl4qdusovnTajEgdoqAD4s4WgrFKtUs0-7taUiHX0nhrPJzWrWDF_SBuQ48ktO0gHamjw_xYDto7nGXfTXvTpJU9RtVlDJyWQxcz7smmLXkuL7_CE/s400/01.png" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 223px;" /></a>As part of our <a href="http://melissabxoxo.blogspot.com/search/label/valentine%27s%20day">Valentine's Day celebration</a>, I want to feature <em>your</em> stories, friends. Your loves. Your heartbreaks. Your first crushes. Your most embarrassing moments. I want to hear it all...stories about your significant other, mother, father, best friend, former best friend. The fun twist? I want to hear these stories in 100 words! Doesn't that sound like fun, friends? I'd love to hear from you, so feel free to email me (mellow1422 [at] aol [dot] com), and look for stories this week and next week! Are you in the Valentine's spirit yet? xoxo<br /><br />[Graphic by <a href="http://www.someecards.com/valentines-day-cards/valentines-day-date-boyfriend-girlfriend-love-funny-ecard">Someecards</a>]

Wanted: 100-word love stories

As part of our Valentine's Day celebration , I want to feature your stories, friends. Your loves. Your heartbreaks. Your first crushes....

Read more »

Love Lounge: What does love mean to you?

<a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZGLQEgSCkMpcQjBijirf692i8NBx7uhqkmZUBfMtTULxBXbryv5W418RoTK0adRUkkLuOQj2_AwerWa7uHxUdFFkR-as1W0tgbITjDbklSO5116fqEV9qNO4S4awDjHR7gW61Z00Hths/s1600/01.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704599218167571218" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEgZGLQEgSCkMpcQjBijirf692i8NBx7uhqkmZUBfMtTULxBXbryv5W418RoTK0adRUkkLuOQj2_AwerWa7uHxUdFFkR-as1W0tgbITjDbklSO5116fqEV9qNO4S4awDjHR7gW61Z00Hths/s400/01.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 223px;" /></a>Love. It's probably the most powerful four-letter word in the English language -- well, aside from some other choice words, which I won't go into since <a href="http://melissabxoxo.blogspot.com/2008/12/my-confession-i-am-prude.html">I'm such a prude</a>, remember? But love...it's talked about. It's sung about. It's felt. It angers us. It makes us smile. It frustrates it. It confuses us. And sometimes, it even makes us just want to throw our hands up in the air and scream, " I give up!" But for some reason, we never give up. On love, I mean. It's the one thing we always keep running back to. Maybe because we know that as miserable as it makes us sometimes, the thought of being completely without love makes us even more miserable. Maybe we know that we wouldn't be the people we are without love in our lives. Maybe because, like oxygen, love is something we need if we're ever going to survive in this crazy, unpredictable world. <br /><a href="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6paGur8eHmf4F0GhMlpycrPZHSKKirT77CnjMQHy6dFsK3lq8uDXrae4w3bSmv6D9LNCXQU6FXlDlegybfAJhd8wOWcc_BC7xmecfz08_hiUS_wS4cSln-a0lHUD88e0MOFphEmPrl6A/s1600/02.jpg" onblur="try {parent.deselectBloggerImageGracefully();} catch(e) {}"><img alt="" border="0" id="BLOGGER_PHOTO_ID_5704599217606596594" src="https://blogger.googleusercontent.com/img/b/R29vZ2xl/AVvXsEj6paGur8eHmf4F0GhMlpycrPZHSKKirT77CnjMQHy6dFsK3lq8uDXrae4w3bSmv6D9LNCXQU6FXlDlegybfAJhd8wOWcc_BC7xmecfz08_hiUS_wS4cSln-a0lHUD88e0MOFphEmPrl6A/s400/02.jpg" style="display:block; margin:0px auto 0px; text-align:center;cursor:pointer; cursor:hand;width: 400px; height: 268px;" /></a>With Valentine's Day coming up, I've been thinking even more about love lately -- what it means, why we need it, the different types of love -- and I think I've figured something out: I'll never figure love out. But that's OK because I'm sort of enjoying just seeing where it takes me. But I do know one thing: Love means the world to me.<br /><br /><span style="font-weight:bold;">So, tell me, friends, what does love mean to you? What does it mean to love your mother? Sister? Husband? Best friend? Let's chat about all things lovey-dovey! xoxo</span><br /><br />P.S. And speaking of love, I've got lots of Valentine's Day-themed posts planned for next week. I'm so excited to share them with you, friends!! :)<br /><br />[Top graphic via <a href="http://www.someecards.com/valentines-day-cards/be-my-valentine-if-were-still-dating-then">Someecards</a>, bottom photo via <a href="http://www.leloveimage.blogspot.com/2012/02/happiness-of-present.html">Le Love</a>]

Love Lounge: What does love mean to you?

Love. It's probably the most powerful four-letter word in the English language -- well, aside from some other choice words, which I won...

Read more »