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"  Despite the fact that I am completely over Almost Famous, I still woke up in a panic this morning, knowing I was going to have to see him.  As I tried on every outfit I owned multiple times, reapplied my makeup after applying it and washing it off, and flat-ironed my hair more times than necessary, I thanked my lucky stars that Brandon hadn&amp;#039;t spent last night at my (ahem, our) place. Did I mention that I have a wardrobe person and a stylist at work? But what if I somehow ran into AF prior to the taping?  When I arrived at work, AF wasn&amp;#039;t there yet. I headed in to get myself restyled, and emerged feeling much more confident than I had at home. I grabbed my notes and went to the studio. He was already there, perusing the craft services table with his manager and a couple of people I didn&amp;#039;t recognize. He was wearing designer jeans and a blazer, holding a Styrofoam coffee cup close to his full, perfect lips. He looked up when he heard my suddenly-too-loud heels clacking against the cement floor.  &amp;quot;K.,&amp;quot; he said, grinning, and for a moment I was transfixed by his gorgeous face. &amp;quot;It&amp;#039;s so good to see you again.&amp;quot;  His manager smirked, and I was introduced to the other people present; Sammy, his stylist, and Bob, his agent. Greetings were exchanged all around. I was flustered to see him, but I tried to pull it together.  &amp;quot;So here&amp;#039;s what I was thinking,&amp;quot; I said, all business. &amp;quot;We start with a little bit about what you have going on now, movie-wise, and then we&amp;#039;ll talk about your theater program, then a bit about President Obama&amp;#039;s plan for education and arts funding, and then we&amp;#039;ll do a bit about what&amp;#039;s next for you. Sound good?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Sounds great,&amp;quot; he said, still grinning, and I silently cursed him for being so ridiculously beautiful.  We started taping, and it was going well\u2026we had an easy, casual banter that was neither superficial nor flirtatious. Then I asked him what he&amp;#039;s been up to, and everything began to fall apart.  &amp;quot;I&amp;#039;m working on a period piece about the Italian Renaissance,&amp;quot; he explained. &amp;quot;We just finished filming in Tuscany.&amp;quot;  When he said &amp;quot;Tuscany,&amp;quot; he winked, and I suddenly remembered the postcard.  I stared at him in surprise. Why hadn&amp;#039;t that information been on IMDB, or in the info his manager had sent over? Was this all an elaborate set-up to embarrass me? What. The. Eff? In some faraway place in my brain, I felt anger beginning to rise.  &amp;quot;Cut!&amp;quot; Shannon yelled. &amp;quot;K., what&amp;#039;s up?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Sorry,&amp;quot; I mumbled, shaking my head. &amp;quot;I totally forgot what I was saying.&amp;quot;  AF was still grinning, and suddenly it looked insincere, and maybe even a little bit cruel. Just like that, he stopped being this fantasy guy who I was somehow not worthy of standing next to. At that moment, he seemed like a petty game-player who needed to find himself a hobby. Somehow, I got through the rest of the taping, but it was kind of a blur and I couldn&amp;#039;t wait to get out of there.  &amp;quot;Let&amp;#039;s have lunch,&amp;quot; he said after we wrapped, still with the stupid smile. &amp;quot;You can yell at me for all of the crappy movies I&amp;#039;m doing.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;So you&amp;#039;re still reading my blog,&amp;quot; I said. &amp;quot;Then I&amp;#039;m sure you know how freaked out I was when I got your postcard after being harassed by a coworker, who I assumed had sent it.&amp;quot;   He laughed.  &amp;quot;It&amp;#039;s not funny. What&amp;#039;s wrong with you?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;It&amp;#039;s kind of funny,&amp;quot; he said.  &amp;quot;Is being famous that boring?&amp;quot; I asked. &amp;quot;You seriously have time to read my blog and play practical jokes on me? We didn&amp;#039;t leave off on the best of terms last time around. How is that even remotely appropriate behavior?&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;Come on,&amp;quot; he pleaded. &amp;quot;Have lunch with me.&amp;quot;  &amp;quot;No thanks,&amp;quot; I said. &amp;quot;That was a total douchebag move on your part, and I&amp;#039;m not really interested in spending time with you.&amp;quot;  His mouth dropped open, and I walked off, feeling triumphant. I never thought I&amp;#039;d see a day when I got to reject him. It was kind of awesome. I do have a sneaking suspicion I haven&amp;#039;t heard the last of him, though. "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.cosmopolitan.com/sex-love/a7982/bedroom-blog-021609/>