Those lips, oh daddy, those lips. Those eyes that make mine just roll back into my head. He's gorgeous. And the best part is, he's not gay. I've got nothing against gay guys, they just make lousy boyfriends. No scratch that. They make great boyfriends, just nor for straight girls. How do I know a guy is gay? I have (or have had) a crush on him. Is there a drug for that? To fix that?

I stare at him from accross the classroom and all I can think about is what it's like to kiss him and what our wedding invitations will look like. Our kids would be beautiful-- honey-caramel colored little lambs with unruly light brown hair. They'd get his startling blue eyes and we'd donate a Mick Jagger pout. They'd grow up to be supermodels or dancers or general manifestations of our brilliance.

All this comes to me as my Drama professor speaks to me of rock and/or roll. It should hold my interest, but the lights from Ziggy Stardust are catching in his eyes (we're watching a video). I think his name is Chris (I know it is, but love doesn't need names).

I don't mean to date my way into the English Mafia, its just my type: tall, thin, and most importantly, a writer. An active writer.