dear apolo ohno (i promise i'm not a creeper)

dear apolo ohno,

to get my mom off my back, i had to write you this open letter.  and i sort of kind of maybe secretly wanted to, too.  my mom is convinced we should meet.  and maybe date.  or at least go on a date.  i promise i'm not some creepy stalker fan.  (whether my mother is or not is entirely questionable.)  i mean i think you're pretty badass skating all wicked fast in your skin tight skating suit that resembles an ensemble of spiderman's, but that's not why i like you.  oh, and winning an unprecedented eight gold medals is not why i like you either, though that is insanely badass.  really i'm into your soul patch.  it's kind of hot.  okay, it's really hot, soul patches kind of do it for me, but that's also not why i like you.  and i hear you were pretty cool on dancing with the stars, though i have to be honest, i don't really watch that show.  sorry.  but i do know you won, so you've got to at least give me credit for that.  maybe we could go ice skating or something on our first (and potentially last) date.  i wear hockey skates, though, not figure skates or speed skates.  i hope that's okay.  and i'm not wicked fast, just fast enough to skate past all the five year olds clinging to their parents' legs.  oh, and i'm really competitive, so we could race if you wanted to, but you'd have to give me at least a two lap head-start.  ooooh, or i'm really good at rollerblading, so rollerblading is definitely an option.  i might even be a better 'blader than you.  we won't know 'til we try.

so here's the deal, i'm going to hit you up on twitter.  please don't block me.  i promise i'll only do it once a day and then i'll leave you alone.  maybe.  i just gave my mother my word that i'd do it, and i like to keep my word.  i love the woman, but she's relentless.  i'm sure you get tweeted, chirped, and peeped at all the time so i'll just be another one to add to the list.  quite frankly, i'm still not entirely sure how the hell twitter even works, so there's a very good chance you won't even see anything from me.  it'd be cool if you could holla back.  otherwise, my readers will think i'm a total loser and no one wants to feel like a loser.  thanks, polo.  i knew you were nice.  or at least i hope you are.  (fingers crossed)

hearts and tight spandex suits,
meredith

 

{they don't call me (flash) for nothing, yo.} 

p.s. readers, this is how i hit him up.  he's not responding.  sads. :(