Today's news

Yesterday I saw a bumper sticker that read “Do You Know Today’s News? Thank a Journalist!” As a former and sometimes member of the maligned profession, I sympathize with the bid for appreciation, but knowing today’s news only makes me want to kill someone.

Anway:

-Priscilla Owen’s nomination was confirmed.

-The homeless guy on the sidewalk has not been spotted again.

-It’s been two weeks since I boldly declared here that I wasn’t interested in romance. Still true, but my peaceful indifference to men has been interrupted by the return of my libido.

Early this morning I was dreaming about a road trip to Baton Rouge with a group of eccentric men. We were at a strange museum filled with Catholic paraphernalia. I was flirting with a cute young guy and boldly reached out and rumpled his hair. But he rebuffed my advances and told me I should go out with a friend of his. The friend was a firebrand professor at LSU, he said, who was interested in another girl who was not interested in him, but I would be better for him. He talked to me as if I knew this professor, and I played along even though I couldn’t place him. I was willing to go along with this potential new romance, but when the professor came out of the museum he had a little monkey on a leash. He seemed a little too eccentric, and I waffled a bit. Then the cat woke me up.

Awake, I find this dream extremely irritating. I want to slap my dream-self. Why are you tousling the hair of a man who’s clearly not interested in you? Why are you willing to get interested in a man, sight-unseen, who is crushed-out on another woman, just because someone suggests him to you? Stop, stop, stop it already.

This dream might be relevant to the quasi-(possibly-semi-imaginary-)flirtation I have going on with a delectably under-aged fellow deejay. He just turned 24 and he looks even younger than that. He looks not yet fully formed. He’s even kind of dorky looking, but in a way I find almost unbearably delicious. One day I saw him on campus in a fresh pair of khakis and clean white shirt, and he was just like an unwrapped piece of candy.

He seems to think I’m a likeable, interesting person, at least. And I’m pretty sure he’s flirting with me, but whenever I try to give him an invitation to go further, he doesn’t take it. I think maybe I’m too cryptic or he’s too intimidated, but it might be that he’s just not that interested. Then I go round and round in my head about it, and the next thing you know I’m semi-obsessed with a perfectly nice but probably not terrifically exceptional 24 year old boy! And feeling rejected and insecure, too! Stop it! Stop it, stop it, stop it!

Sure, I’d like the chance to unwrap him and eat him up—and if I get the chance you know I’ll take it. Maybe I’ll make an overt move on him. Maybe I won’t. One way or the other, I’m not going to let myself get too worked up about it. Not until I’ve had the chance to unwrap him, at least, and he’s proven himself worthy of the hype.

Oh, there’s more to say—about work and school and real estate. But I’m tired of typing right now, and I know you really just want to know about sex and cute boys.