Stephanie- First and foremost,let me tell you that your magazine has changed my life for the better! Before Skirt! magazine was available to me on a monthly basis, I was lost in my womonhood, and unable to express the joy of being a lady. Now I find myself at the right parties, wearing the right clothes, and saying the right things! Isn't that every woman's dream? Speaking of dreams. I have a story similar to yours. It all begins when I was interning at the White House in my senior year at Georgetown University. I had such a crush on President Gerald Ford. I know! How crazy is that? I guess women will never fully understand our crushes during early womanhood. Everytime the President would play golf, I would daydream that I was his caddy that day. When he hit the ball into a sand trap, I would envision myself wearing a little plaid golf outfit with high heeled golf spikes, telling him " I think you should use the wedge Mr. President." Oooh! It still gets to me today. I better turn down the heat! I better get to the point of this story before I pass out from the steaminess of my daydream. I had two good girlfriends who were also interning at the White House at this time. One day I called in sick, and the two of them got the chance to live out my dream and caddy for the president at the annual White House staff and intern golf scramble. They handed my crush, Gerald Ford, golf clubs for over 90 shots that day. I guarantee that they did not appreciate it half as much as I would have, and I doubt they even wore my precious plaid outfit, with high heeled golf spikes. I was so upset after hearing the news about these backstabbing Betties, that I called in sick for the rest of my internship and did not graduate from college on time. I thought about setting their dorm room on fire, but that's considered arson, and I learned early on in life not to break the law when you have a broken heart. To this day, I still have a dream where President Ford is about sink his last putt of the day, and as I hand him the putter, we accidently touch hands. It gets me so worked up, that I wake up in a cold sweat. The weird thing is that everytime I do, I have a putter in my hand. That's right! I wake up in bed, with a putter in my hand. The putter that I was supposed to be handing my crush, Gerald Ford. Don't let this happen to you, Stephanie. You are young, energetic and sooo very Skirt! You have your whole life ahead of you. Forget about these backstabbing Betties (who are probably spreading The Clap as I write this), and get some rest! Thanks for time and the wonderful chance to correspond with my favorite editor . Tabby Smith

Thanks for writing such interesting posts!