Dear Boy,

It’s a super good thing that you are moving in a month, because you are trouble. Those laughing brown eyes and dimples are doing me in. Not to mention the fact that you sat next to me and laughed with me though all the performances, catching my eye, leaning over so I could hear you over the performers.

“What was your favorite part of the night?”

“You.” Heart stops. “Running up to the stage dancing.” *wink, broad smile* Heart sorta starts again.

Gah. Don’t. Need. This. You’re too good looking and have never paid any attention to me before two months ago and I know with certainty I am so not your type.

Probably didn’t help that Friend, who I adore but is somewhat crass and loud, leaned over to me and said (in tones I’m certain you didn’t even have to strain to hear) “How old is that hottie next to you?” If you could hear a blush, I’m sure that it would have drowned out a freight train.

Flirting with you was the most fun I’ve had in a long time. Promise me we’ll do it again on Sunday.

Julia

The other surreal experience tonight? Having one girl coming up to me, “do you know my brother Mike? He’s a nerd, well, I mean, he’s into computer I guess, I don’t really know. Anyway, he just wants to hang out. So can I give him your phone number?”

Me, staring at her: “Do you even know my phone number?”

“Your friend Sarah gave it to me.”

Sarah waves. “I thought you should have a good time.”

So apparently, Mike, whom I’ve never met before, is going to be giving me a call next week.

Next year, I’m taking to the stage. I think a little interpretive dance may be in order.