Maybe I can pass him a note in gym class...

Oh no. Am asking for trouble. Am going to get hurt. Is almost guaranteed.

There are about 16 reasons why I should not allow myself to obsess about that technical director guy. We have only just met, he is way older than I am, he lives in a different city, blah blah blah. I get this.

*sticks fingers in ears and sings "I'm Henry the Eighth, I am" in order to drown out voices of reason*

I couldn't care less! Oh I love him! Swoon swoon swoony swoon swoon. (Now that is a funny-looking word.) He is just so charming and manly that I keep drifting off into daydreams where he and I are picnicking in a park, or wowing an audience with our flashy dancing skills, or he is cooking breakfast for me wearing only an apron and chef's hat...

*5 minutes later*

Oh, hello! I'm back now. The last couple of days have whizzed by due to these, er, spells I keep having. Today has been especially blurry, because he has sent me an email saying it was too bad he had to rush back to work early from the bar, and that he would have liked to sit with me and "find out more about me, perhaps on the next show?" I keep re-reading the email, because I am 14 years old again. I have lost the battle and am officially obsessed.

I am off to buy a Trapper Keeper, on which I will scrawl his name repeatedly in big loopy script, with a fuzzy pink pen.