I think I will take a lover. I'm tired of acting virtuous, pretending that this is the 50s and a dreamy kiss goodnight on my doorstep is the culmination of all my girlish desires. I'm 28 for God's sake! Who am I fooling?

I'm tired of listening to "time's winged chariot drawing near." I'm tired of pretending I'm scandalized by dirty jokes. I'm just tired of fussing with a losing proposition. Yet, biology is insistent. So here is my list of qualifications:

• Good looking
• Passionate
• Willing to experiment
• Possessed of some fatal flaw that makes him ultimately resistable (bad conversationalist, underemployed, Libertarian)
• Fun
• Sufficiently messed up in his own head that he doesn't judge me
• No weird guilt complexes

Now, Dr. Y, you BETTER not have told you-know-who about this blog. THAT would be mortifying.

And if any dear readers think of any candidates and/or additions to my list of qualifications, by all means, comment away.