Running, Drinking, and Surviving

Dear Chris (I’d call you Mr. Evans, but you’re slightly younger than me)-- This is an apology. For all the women who profess a love for you when we’ve never met you. I know I’m guilty of this.  It seems totally cray cray.  And while I don’t claim to be the most mentally stable person on earth, I’ve got a decent grip on reality.  I would never actually, physically stalk a person or cause harm to another unless it was necessary to protect myself or others.  I do feel the need to explain this odd obsession that has developed, however. When I was younger, I thought I was in love with Donnie Wahlberg (fellow Bostonian, maybe we have a pattern), but alas it was merely a crush of a pre-teen.  Then there was Luke Perry--oh Dylan, you were so tragically hot.  I’m sure there were others, but those were the poster boys of my youth.  I didn’t know these people at all. I saw them on tv acting, or performing in music videos, but that was about it. I never even saw New Kids on the Block in concert un