you may recall that james franco and i had a thing a few years back.
after reading a bit of his fiction, i thought i'd been cured of this, but no.
because then i read THIS, and now i'm all in love again.
"I imagined going to elegant parties arm in arm with my handsome, intellectual man. I thought about calling him James. How novel the name sounded on its own! Not James Franco, actor. James, my James. We’d show each other drafts of our work, and he’d read me Wallace Stevens under a tree in Central Park. We’d fly to California for Chanukah together. He’d look at me with those beautiful eyes as we’d plan a trip to Portugal—small towns only, to avoid the paparazzi. When we finally did meet, in real life, it turned out not to be my sister who brought me closer to him. It was my roommate’s friend’s cousin. Oddly enough, another Jew from L.A."