Hot for Teacher

My professorial* crush can no longer be denied or repressed. I am waaaay too into my professor. At the beginning of the semester, I thought he was hot. But that's not a surprise, or anything, because I tend to think everyone is hot (except for maybe old, fat gu...no wait, I love Gregg Allman, too...oh dear). But now, my love for this professor of mine is totally out of control!
I had a pretty hot prof. this past summer for English 300, but then he just became arrogant at some point and the things about him that were like cute at the beginning of the semester just became assholey. Plus, he lost my portfolio and for that I hate him. :)
So, I approached my little crush on my Essay Workshop Class prof. with hestitation. I decided that I'd make myself not like him. Even if he is hot and just a grad school student. I mean--he said he lives in Bergen County (unless my hearing deceived me and he really said something else, which is not altogether impossible). No one--no one--lives in the suburbs when they're single! This man is either totally married (but no ring) or totally living with his parents (but...but...no way!). But of course, since I can't accept those theories, I am going to push them all aside for, "his grandmother is very old and very weak now that she's a widow with Alzheimer's, so he moved in with her to take care of her and give her the dignity and respect that an elderly woman should get since her nurse just works to fulfill a function." ...even though then his grandmother's in a diphthong sitch and that's sad...
Now, up until last week, I was cool. I was totally shimotily cool in class. Because really--a crush on teacher? So cliche. But I can't do that anymore because he's leading me on. He is leading me on!
There was a day last week (Wednesday) when it snowed. I was wearing a long skirt, naot, a tee-shirt under just a denim jacket, my sexy-fuzzy scarf, and my hot purple bag. I ended up running from 5th to school (across four avenues) in the snow, in my open back shoes, with my sockless feet, looking like a nutjob. No thanks to accuweather.com that told me there was a chance of rain but no mention of anything else.
I ran into Hunter West (thirty minutes late for class) and as I was hurrying toward the elevators noticed my hot professor walking toward my direction, laughing--I'm assuming at the obviously ridiculous spectacle of me (and I admit that you'd have to have a serious lacking in the sense of humor department to have not laughed at what I looked like). He said "hi." I said, "hi." And we both continued on our merry little ways.
But see, the next day in class, he kept smiling every time he looked at me. Just in a good mood? Possibly. But it's more fun to think it's because he likes me. I tried pretending to my brain that he was just still amused by my weirdoness. Yesterday in class, though, he kept laughing at me. LAUGHING! Have you ever heard of this in your life, from a professor? I mean, not laughing in a bad way. Laughing in a, "oh, that Dina..." way. And yes, I have come to recognize that kind of laugh quite well. I cannot be fooled!
Then, of course, when we were discussing Fitzgerald's The Crack-Up I was added some of what I thought to the comments (which was an awful lot, as usual) and I realized that I had just psychoanalyzed Fitzgerald and found all these cool things in his essay but that maybe my comment wasn't so relevant to the class's purpose, which was more along the lines of studying the essay structure and what not. So I stopped and said, "actually, never mind because maybe this isn't even relevant." I tend to have lots to say in class and I hate when I hear my voice too much.
Professor Hotness said something like, "well, actually it sounds really interesting--can you go on?"
"Oh, I'm sorry professor, did you just ask me to have a crush on me or was that when you sent me an e-mail this morning that said, 'Those were great - excellent work - thanks for sending them,' in response to the unintelligable e-mail I sent a kid in my class with comments for his essay I wrote at 5am after having been up all night because I had left it at home for class?" For serious...I even wrote in that e-mail, "If you're making the case that any sexual content in children's entertainment is either there unintentionally or completely missed by whatever-it-is's (film, movie poster, etc.) target audience because they haven't been exposed to what those suggestions are hinting to yet, saying 'it's okay for their to be a spire on the castle that resembles a penis because boys don't watch the Little Mermaid anyway' seems to weaken your argument because it seems like you're saying even a little boy wouldn't be looking for such symbols and it would thereby go unnoticed." And yes, I wrote their instead of there! Mortally embarressing. Even worse than that actual sentence. I can't believe I actually sent it and cc'ed my prof. like he asked. But then, I am trying to uncrush myself from having a crush on him. Not that he'll ever be able to resist my o-girl awesomeness anyway.

*How totally cool is it that is actually a word? Okay, so my syntax is all wrong for it, but whoa!