Dear Josie and the Pussycats (2001),

Do you remember the first time we met? I was six, and my mom had taken my siblings and I to Blockbuster Video. I remember seeing you in your new DVD glory sitting amongst the other new releases. I was drawn to the women on your cover, clad in purple, glittery halter-tops, with instruments in hand. At six, I dreamed of being in a cool all-girl rock band (glittery halter tops included). I knew this was fate.

I watched you that night. I was instantly enthralled by the musical stylings of the Pussycats. Your soundtrack became my favorite album; I listened to it day and night. I felt like Josie, Valerie, and Melody were my best friends, and Fiona, my personal enemy. Eventually, my dad gave me my own copy of you. I no longer had to go to Blockbuster to immerse myself in your beauty.

Over the years, our relationship has had its ups and downs. At six, I was confused by your continuous use of product placement. Why was DuJour’s plane covered in Target logos? Who was Mr. Moviefone? (You slept with him?!) Years went on, and by the age of eight, I still did not understand. That was when we had our first down. I will always be sorry for neglecting you from the ages of nine to 14, and thankful for your forgiveness, since. But the day we were reunited was the most amazing in all of our time together. I finally understood all of your intricacies. Your inherent use of product placement was equally ingenious and hilarious. Your fashions were no longer in style, yet I could not help but long to wear them. I had even begun to learn Melody’s parts on my drums. To this day, I believe drumsticks to be the best utensils for eating ramen noodles.

Just like Josie and Alan M, I believe we were meant to be from the start, and even though I may have forgotten our pizza night, I will never forget our day at the aquarium.

Forever your backdoor lover,

Casey

—By Casey N., 19, Cincinnati