2. Any time anyone doesn't like her or gives her any hassle, I instantly want to enact a horrible revenge on them. Her bosses were convinced for a while that I was a gang member, and they're lucky I'm not, because they often fail to cut her sufficient slack and if I had a running crew, they'd long ago have been jacked in the parking lot and left for the storm crows.
3. I dig on her in a certain obvious way.
4. When I read the website of the literary magazine she edits, I think about what she must have thought when she selected each story, and what it might have reminded her of, and I think about recommending particular books to her even though I know she doesn't have time to read them. I have fantasies about hitting the lotto just so I can tell her to quit her job, take some time for herself, and read and write all day.
5. When I send her an e-mail, it gives me a dopey little frisson just to type out her name.
She's swell. You're all lucky that you get to live in the same world with her.