Dude in class, mind elsewhere

I do so want to split that wandering part of my personality, that dreamer that so often intrudes on my attempts to engage with the world. I see a pretty girl and I go off into wondering about how it must be to be so pretty. I write this sitting in a class where it is whispered that the professor has pretty undergrads as his teaching assistants. Having identified the two said assistants, I find myself fascinated. One is obviously out of her league, her intelligence and/or education insufficient for the task of adapting to the other class. The other might be the same, but she wisely adopts the adage of the fool who appears wise with silence. She is also strikingly beautiful, in a way that sets me reminiscing. I’ve had girls like these in classes before and they’ve always been hazardous to my education. I’m easily distracted people, very easily distracted and she is very, very distracting. I’ll admit it. I very much admire women; Tall and short, dark and light, zaftig and lithe, whatever stereotype you’d like. I’ve been known to be enchanted with tall, pale, flat chested women; short and generously proportioned women, whether white, black or Asian; athletic redheads, silky haired Indonesians, froed and cornrowed Africans and African Americas, exotically dark skin and freckled paleness… Sue me, I like women, and in writing all that, I’ve paid scant attention to the description of ritual ecstasy being debated in class just now. Back to the girl who cause the first distraction (she’s of the tall, pale and flat persuasion by the way and she looks quite intelligent in the way we sometimes make judgment of that from superficial features), I wonder if she knows her presence in the class is attributed to her looks, how that makes her feel, if she resents it or appreciative of the opportunity to be in an advanced class that half the grad department couldn’t get into, - I interrupt this reminiscence to inform you all that, SHE SPEAKS! Her point is not unintelligent. I wonder if she is often obsessed about like this. Tell me reader, is this really, really creepy? Do you feel icky just reading this? You must be a pervert then. Note that there has been not one sexual reference anywhere in this piece. And while writing may be an act of possession (something we are actually discussing in class right now). I’ve indicated absolutely no desire for any other form of possession within that. Although you might reference one of my previous posts and comment that I never see beauty without trying to possess it. Touché. Now bugger off. I need to attempt a little learning now.