It's good to know that at my age and level of cynicism, I can still get the nervous heart-fluttery screaming heebie-jeebies over somebody.

Time passes but unrequited lust never dies.

Or something.

Or, to borrow a phrase from a perpetually popular Monty Python movie now made into a smash Broadway musical, "I'm not dead yet!"


I'm almost old enough to be his mother.

Great Force, what am I thinking?


Oh well. I won't be seeing him again until Wednesday at the earliest.


Hell, for all I know he's got some 17 year old high school cheerleader following him around with her tongue hanging down to her kneecaps.


Gad. I hate being alone.