The moment you realize the problem and understand its source, the fault is immediately shifted from the source to yourself.  All responsibility in changing what you are well aware of lies in yourself, whether it is your solo mission or merely your responsibility to enlist the help of a more qualified person.

I am guilty in several ways, if this philosophy is true.  Any input?

I find intelligence unbearably sexy.  Also wet hair.  If I had a beard, I would braid it.  I also find guys who are nice to their mothers and polite to their grandmothers alarmingly attractive.  And when they can play at playgrounds and yet be more mature than I am.  I love boys who can see me without makeup and not notice a difference (frustrating though that is at times, hehe).  I like boys who like poetry and horses and getting dirty (like, real dirt.  not "dirty." well, i like that kind of dirty too...).  You know what else I love?  Guys who can talk about literature and art and music, and history and....

And what, my dearest readers, do you find attractive in whatever gender you're attracted to?  Tell me in the comment box!

Haha.  Have you ever set your fingers down on your keyboard, gotten completely distracted while typing, and looked back to see that your fingers were, like, one key off?  It turns out to look something like this:

wekkm giw was tiyr dat> nube was orettt giid actyakkt

Translated:

Well, how was your day?  Mine was pretty good actually. 

Cool, huh? 

(look at my picture, my dreams have all come true!)

Austin, mon cher!  I missed you!  So yeah, I'm at a restaurant with a bunch of people and I turn to talk to someone next to me.  Unbeknownst to me, the waiter (conscientious man that he is) debonairly refills my glass of water.  Without turning away, I pick up the glass and boldly tilt it up to my lips, assuming that it was still about half full.  I end up with a lapful of water and it takes like sixty seconds for me to realize why I'm all icy and wet.  Sigh.  I will never be sophistocated.  I hope no one minds. 

A Quick Edit From Your Author
the afternoon of January seventeenth, two thousand six, at three fifty-nine pm.

Well, it's happened.  Sorry, folks.