A Shot of J.R.

I'm suffering from transference. My acupuncture posse take such good care of me that I love them now. One of them is male and yesterday when he took my pulse, my eyes started to fill. Last week, my general physician declared me fit, then chatted me up about semi-prescious stones. I now desperately want to be girlfriends with him. So last night, while watching Primary Colors -- primarily to relive the Clinton era and counteract the Obama kids approaching me on the street -- Larry Hagman appeared and my heart pounded with love. Maybe it was leftover euphoria over the notion of Father's Day or residual worship of J.R. Ewing, one of the best characters ever.

Or maybe, I'm starting to respond to dirty old men. This has to stop immediately.