Shira Sometimes

Shira Toeplitz has been my favorite young talking head for a while.  I understand that her dream career path would lead her to being a heinous village idiot like Andrea Mitchell, wealthy, eventually married for the second or third time to an even bigger, more famous fucking moron than herself, and spouting vile inanities with the security of Washington privilege, but right now she is especially alluring, like that girl you would meet at Cornell or Penn or Maryland or NYU--or Northwestern, apparently--that girl who is your roommate's girlfriend or fraternity brother's girlfriend, sleeping and fucking in the same room where you sleep and fuck, sharing your couch and your weed, sharing your shower and nonchalantly brushing her teeth while you're taking a dump (or vice versa) and much to your surprise just being cool as hell 24/7, making you question your rules about only having girlfriends that are taller and blonder and hotter than girs who might have been Shira.  She's the girl that you would hang out with on the landing or in the quiet hallway in the aftermath of one epic party night, after your girl and her man passed out, and shoot the shit, talking about everything, laughing and flirting and loving every second of it till the sun comes up, and only realizing just how fucking amazing it was in the days and years that would follow.  She's the girl that after college, if she was still dating your fraternity brother, that would be the reason you made sure you never missed a reunion or summer party.  Of course, she'll get old, turn into Andrea Mitchell, and your memory will falter along with hers, blessedly saving you from both the most scalding regret as well as the heaviest disappointment and saving her from eternal mortification.