Before I was married I dated. I was no slut but I got around. I remember dating one guy very sweet, very nice and I know the only reason I was attracted to him was because he graduated from UC Berkeley. I thought to myself “Hey anyone who graduates from there HAS to be smart.” He graduated and got a job at Starbucks. He was really into foreign art and music and was a world traveler. Yes I know, foreign art and music = gay. Honestly, I don’t think he was. I think he was just a metrosexual before his time. But I do remember one particularly gay thing he did that at the time didn’t seem so weird. (Then again, as many friends have told me, I have NO gaydar. Liberace could be friggin in front of me and I wouldn’t get the clue.) We were driving around in his parents SUV (you got it, he didn’t have his own car) and he popped in a George Michael CD and blasted Freedom. As a girl, I love that song. It’s got a great beat, you can dance to it and it just screams well….freedom…I know lame. But it was like an anthem for individuality…and for a gay guy that’s great. But for a straight guy blasting that song around in Torrance…hmmmm.