My name is Ryan Ritchie and I'm pretty sure I'm in love with you. Let me explain.
A few days ago, I was browsing this here blog when I came across Gabriel San Roman's post about how you created a Kickstarter page in hopes of coming up with $15,000 for your full-length debut. One thing I am is honest, so I ain't gonna lie: That picture of you atop that blog was enough to get me to keep reading. Seriously, you are one good looking woman, the kind who makes lame dudes such as myself continue to read blogs they might not have otherwise read.
Anyway, I read the story and hoped for the best for you. Then I moved onto something else. But I was at the gym about an hour later, kicking mucho ass on the elliptical machine when your name popped back into my head, as if I knew you from somewhere but couldn't place where we had met. Well, after coming home and showering (because the first thing I do once I work out is shower. Otherwise, I'd be gross) was track down your Facebook page and your website, I can honestly say that I don't know you. At all. Which really is a shame, isn't it? You probably would answer "no" and I'd probably agree with you because someone once called me a "heightened loser" and I can't say I disagree with that statement. I'm a nice guy and all, but confident I ain't. Hence, this letter.
I realized two things after memorizing your online persona: 1. We have two mutual friends on Facebook. Two people who can very much vouch for me if it ever came to that. 2. I saw you perform at the 2011 Orange County Music Awards and that would have been a pretty awesome time to meet. Picture it:
Me: Hey. I'm a big shot reporter for the OC Weekly and I can make or break your career. Which will it be?
You: Make! Make! Make!
Nevermind the fact that I'm not a big shot reporter for the OC Weekly nor can I make -- or break -- your career. That's totally irrelevant. The point is...OK... I don't know what my point is. I'm a shy introvert who says stupid things online like how he showers after going to the gym because I get flustered when I deal with pretty girls, so you'll have to pardon my rambling. Usually, I'm pretty good at this whole writing thing. At least I'd like to think so, but I've never penned this sort of heart-on-sleeve story before and it probably shows.
Back to my main point...I listened to your music and damn it, you're talented, which is only making me like you ever more. I love jazz and before you think I'm just saying that to win you over, search my name on this site and you'll find numerous stories I've written about jazz musicians.
So we got that in common.
Next, I speak Spanish. Or should I say, yo hablo espanol. But I gotta warn you -- I'm not fluent or anything. I am, however, trying to improve and maybe you could help me. That would be awesome. In return, I could...uh...um...I don't know what I could do, but I would appreciate the help. And helping people is good, right? Right.
If I had $15,000, I'd totally fund your record. Unfortunately, I'm a writer, which means I'm broke. I'm also in grad school to get my MFA in creative writing, which means not only will I be $40,000 in debt in a year or so, I'll also be poor for the rest of my life. So no funding of your record for me. Lo siento:(
On second thought, forget I just said any of that. Instead, pretend I have lots of money. I do and it really makes me feel better about myself. I hope it will make you feel better about me as well.
Damn it. I lost my train of thought. I do that sometimes. Well, a lot actually. Wait. Now I remember. I was going to say how all this time spent thinking about you after realizing that I didn't know you was how I came to the conclusion that I might be in love with you. You might not believe this, but I've got some pretty crazy emails from people online before and most of them creep me out (I'm looking at you, Bob from Wichita), so I totally know how you must feel reading this. I'm creeped out just writing the damn thing, but sometimes you just gotta take that leap. Consider this my leap.
Assuming you think I am the biggest loser/creepiest dude on the planet, keep this in mind...I am way too shy to ever introduce myself in person. Not that I plan on going to see you at every show you have booked (Jan. 20 at NAMM and Jan. 21 at the Segerstrom Center for the Arts opening for the Mexican Institute of Sound), standing in the corner, staring with bedroom eyes and scribbling in my reporter's notebook or anything.
What I'm trying to say is, I'm harmless. Hell, I only weigh 145 pounds, so it's not like I can do much damage to anyone or anything. Besides, I'm a vegan for ethical reasons and we're lovers, not fighters. So you see? I'm ok.
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So whaddya say? Should we catch a big band at Steamers on a Monday? Maybe a Dixieland group on a Sunday? You can even bring a chaperone.
PS If you have a boyfriend/girlfriend/husband/wife/life partner/etc., please don't show this to them. The last thing I need is a black eye.