Dear $200 pair of pumps,
I want you. The way I feel when I look at you can only be described as pure, unadulterated lust. (You know you see me staring!) It's embarrassing, but I can't help it. I think of you and imagine how perfect we could be together, what I wouldn't do to have you! And yet I know, deep down, in my heart-of-hearts, that I must pass you by. In the end you would only hurt me, and what was once a joyous and wonderful relationship would turn into a black hole of resentment and despair.
Your not-so-secret admirer
Dear Starbucks' Grande Cappuccino,
How lovely you are to me! So exactly the opposite of everything I seem to stand for, you invite me in to a place of warm acceptance, and spoil me with affection. A little conservative, to be sure... and true, your corporate lifestyle is not to my taste. But the way you give me exactly what I want, when (and where) I want it, is enough to make me want to see you time and time again! Never too little, never too much, you are there when I need you, and gone when I don't. And did i mention how good you taste?
Your mid-morning come-and-go
I simply cannot get enough of you. An endless source of wit and wisdom, you are all I need to make the day seem worthwhile. You are always introducing me to new ideas, people, and ways of looking at the world. What can I say? I'm obsessed. Does it hurt to admit it?
P.S. I may someday leave you for Wordpress. Don't hate me!