Alright, perhaps I should start by saying I am thirty: THIRTY years old. I should not find any of my students even slightly attractive in any way, except maybe maternal. I mean, they are ten years younger than me. They are children. They are little boys. However, I realized I have a huge problem today, when my advisor mentioned one of my students, I blushed. Me, blushed. How often does that ever happen (never). He wore a really tight t-shirt today, and I do have to say: damn, damn, damn. Damn, DAMN!!!!! And I think he was wearing cologne. I'm sure it was for a girlfriend, somewhere, who is closer to his age. And probably doesn't know jack in bed. I could teach him so much more than USSR history. So we're being lectured about the millions upon millions of people that Stalin arrested, imprisoned, used as slave labor, shot, starved to death, tortured, ect. and all I can think is: yummy! (as I lick my lips). December cannot get here soon enough.