I've got this thought in my head that I think I'm supposed to marry a guy name Chris. It's weird as heck, I know, but I met two guys named Chris in the last two years and instantly had crushes on them.

First, there was Chris, the marina hottie boy from screenwriting class who I was like so hot for as soon as he walked into class. Me and every other woman in screenwriting class thought the same thing. This Chris is tall at 6 ft 4 in, has brown hair, pretty blue eyes, does yoga, used to play college football, and has a masters in psychology. Charming too, the guy is fraternity jock boy charming. Snappy dresser as well.

He was so darn cute, I was afraid to talk to him. But then I decided I didn't need him as a distraction in my life, and tried to ignore him. But we ended up becoming very casual friends for awhile, and I had wild fantasies about the two of us getting hitched, us having a previous incarnation together, him being the one - my krishna, etc. But well that fizzled out when I figured out that he wasn't a JC boy, and that his maturity level was right out of fraternity boy jock hell.

Now there's this guy at the new job and his name is Chris, and I'm working with him on a project and I'm so in crush with him. I hardly know the guy, and already I'm in serious crush mode. This Chris is a blondie with blue eyes, and about 5 ft 8 or 9.

The two Chris's couldn't more opposite. Chris # 1 was cute, and while smart wasn't that swift on the uptake. Chris # 2 is an analytical nerd whose intelligence blows me away; the guy is really, really smart. Chris # 1 is quite a fashionable dresserm while Chris # 2 has the totally WASPy preppy wardrobe.

And I'm like in love with both of them. I think they're both so cute! For some reason Chris # 2 is more attractive to me, but I think that is partly due to the fact that he reminds me of Steve. Part of my attraction to Chris # 2 is because of the curse of Steve, the one that got away.

For whatever reason I also feel more comfortable with Chris # 2, but that could be because I met him at work and we're working together on a project and Chris # 2 seems like a very, very nice person. With Chris # 1 I was practically tongue tied with him, but with Chris # 2 I have to talk to him because he's on my project team. I mean I should be more tongue tied with Chris # 2 because he's as cute to me as Chris # 1, but I'm at work and I can't. I have to work with him and be in meetings with him every week.

And I feel bad that I have a crush on Chris # 2 because I work with him. Work relationships are so messy, and because of sexual harrassment I'm afraid of throwing myself at him. And it's awkward because it's not like he's made any indication to me that he's at all interested. He's nice and all when I have to meet with him one on one for the project we're both working on, but it's not like he's been overyly friendly either. I hate having crushes on a guy who might not even be remotely interested. I mean it's San Francisco. Chris # 2 might not even do women. I can't tell anymore, and my gay-dar is definitely not working well.

I hate the whole just because a guy's name is Chris I have to fall in love with him thing. It's bad, bad for my nerves, bad for my self esteem and ego especially when the Chris person doesn't seem that interested.

It's just so weird that these two guys are so different yet I find them both amazingly attractive, and all they have in common is they're both named Chris. Chris # 2 kinda sorta looks like, reminds me of a preppy Christopher Robin from Winnie the Pooh. And Chris # 1 kinda sort looks like a brown haired, blue eyed Charlie Sheen.

I mean there's no other explanation for my attraction to both men, other than to say it's because some part of my being is looking for the Chris that I'm supposd to spend the rest of my life with and live happily ever after.

I'm either really getting old and senile or I'm especially horny or both. I can't tell.

I was talking to my ultra left wing film history teacher last night about the movie "The Piano", when the thought plops into my head that he's kind of an attractive guy and it would be kind of fun to have a flingie with him. And I'm like 'Oh my God!'

First of all, the guy's politics drive me insane. But a very close friend insists that most SF Bay Area men's politics drive me insane, so that's not unusual. But I'm like the guy has a paunchy tummy, which in itself isn't too bad, but I mean the guy really has a paunchy tummy. He's like portly!

He's gotta be over 50 at least, maybe even older. That's like really old for me since I've never had sex with anyone that old. He's got like graying hair, which makes me him look even older.

And last but definitely not least, his name is IRA! And again I repeat, 'Oh my God!'. I'm having sexual thoughts about some older dude guy with a paunchy tummy and graying hair, stupid ultra left wing liberal politics which I abhor intensely, and his first name is IRA! What is up with that?

See what I mean when I say I'm either getting senile and old or I'm bizarrely orny or both.

I just remembered that I turned Puffs on to "The Cure". He never liked their music until he started dating me. I like this thought. It still makes me happy after all these years.

Another blog game, this time with music from Camilo @ Mercurial.

1. Go to your CD rack/shelf/room.
2. Select the 13th CD from the end of your collection
3. What's the 5th track?
4. List it on your blog, with a story of why you purchased this CD.
5. Link back to me - if you wish.

Tracy Chapman - Tracy Chapman
5th track - Baby Can I Hold You

I purchased this cd because I associate Tracy Chapman's hit song "Fast Car" with one on my ex-boyfriends. There's a line in that car that goes:

I remember we were driving driving in your car
The speed so fast I felt like I was drunk
City lights lay out before us
And your arm felt nice wrapped 'round my shoulder And I had a feeling that I belonged
And I had a feeling I could be someone
be someone
be someone.

I can see Puffs and I driving in the rented convertible down to Death Valley to trip on shrooms, and that song playing on the tape he made for the trip. It was the end of our relationship and we were tyring to kind of save it by taking a trip together, hoping against hope that the mini vacation would be full of enough good memories to keep us together just a little bit longer.

Of course that never happened, and we broke up on Sunday morning the day we were driving back home. And walking away from Puffs was so hard, one of the hardest things I've ever done. I liked him so much, despite all the crap he put me, he put us through. And what still makes me sad after all these years is he never quite forgave me for walking away from him. He was happy that I left, even he knew it was the best thing for me, but a part of him felt so betrayed, so hurt that I didn't, couldn't stick around, didn't love him enough to prevent him from killiing himself and dying.

Puffs was such a trip! Mr. Fraternity boy, beautiful, dark haired and blue-eyed and kind of looking like Jack Nicholson, whom he adored. Stinky topsiders, ralph lauren wardrobe, and those huge 100% silky white cotton nordstrom dress shirts of his with the embroidered sailboat on the cuff that I used to wear as a coverup when I was at his place. That awesome incredibly expensive stereo with the sound processor and that glow in the dark sound wave that practically took up his whole living room.

Puffs was so smart, and so much fun to hang with as a drinking buddy, but he liked his bottle and his drugs way too much. But he was such a kick, and so much fun. Like the time he put on one of my silk shorty nightgowns and did a dancing peep show to music. He was so fun!

But the drinking and the drugs and the subsequent depression from it all were way too much for me, for us. And he wouldn't stop, and he never did either until he died a few years ago.

He used to wake up in the middle of night and grab me and hug me and tell "we were twins", which delighted and simultaneously scared the willies out of me because he was such a messed up person. Fun as heck but really, really very messed. Puffs had a heart of gold and would never hurt a fly, but he covered it all up with drinks and drugs and cigarettes.

Maybe I'm having a Puffs haunting right now. I hope he's happy in death, I hope he's at peace. I hope the demons which plagued his dreams every night have been laid to rest and he can finally sleep through the night without waking up because of a bad dream.