07.18.2004 / 10:32 p.m.

I kicked this weekend off by smoking a cigarette with M*tt D*mon and realizing that yes, I could be the kind of married girl who has affairs.

I'm not proud of this realization. Not at all. But when a cuter-than-you-realized (hello, piercing blue eyes and easy, down-to-earth charm) famous guy says nice things to you, praises you for your insight and thus pushes the right buttons on your horrible anxiety/inferiority complex, well...all it takes is a smile sometimes...and then I'm dreaming for days.

That's how I almost got into trouble with the Rock Star.

That's why I've got to learn to just seer clear of Trouble because as much fun as it is, Trouble is no good friend of mine.

I almost confessed all of this to K. over a glass of red wine last night... but she's so beautiful and social and easygoing (isn't it funny how two exact opposites became best friends...) and I'm not even sure if she would understand...and if she wouldn't, then who would?

Or maybe the real issue here is that I've got the Jo*n J*tt version of Starf*cker stuck in my head...yeah, that's all that this is about...right?

then ... now