I'm having a midlife crisis. Those of you who know me, realize that much of my life has been lived in a state of crisis, but this one is different. It involves hormones. No, really!
Instead of triggering migraines, acne, and fluid retention, this one has me thinking lascivious thoughts and making cow eyes at a certain person who writes for a certain newspaper, and has had his own byline for a quite some time. (Okay, not that long. We're not talking 'Methuselah" here. He is a little older, but damn. I'm not into the geriatric set, y'know).
To protect the guilty (and most of all, myself), I will not be naming names. But I love the way he styles. The only thing he's missing is a fedora with one of those little press cards sticking out of the band. And no, dammit. It's not Matt Drudge. Blecccch!
Enough of this daydreaming (for now). I have to go renew my auto insurance. Life can be such a buzzkill at times...
One,
- D.
