Anybody who knew me in seventh grade knew one thing to be true: I was going to marry Rick Springfield. It was only a matter of the stars aligning. To nudge fate in the right direction, I wrote Rick an eloquent letter that simply stated, “I Love You” one hundred times. Surely, my expression of devotion would bring us together. I’d said, “I Love You” one hundred times. Not ninety-nine. Not one hundred and one. One hundred. (My 13 year-old daughter loves this story and will tell it…