Sunday, Apr. 13, 2003 | 6:02 PM

I am falling a little bit in love with the man I play opposite in Cabaret. Or rather, I am becoming my character so much and he is becoming his character so much that vicariously through our characters we are falling in love with each other. The feeling is actually sort of magical to play around with.

When I am on stage, I absolutely am 150% in love with him. Our chemistry, as I have been told mutiple times, is pretty amazing. Today when we kissed, he slipped me the tongue, and I was a little surprised, but also glad of it. It seemed natural. And we kept making out well past the point of when we should have stopped.

He's a sweet sweet guy in real life and I like him a great deal. But you always have to be careful of these stage romances.

That brings me to something I've been thinking about lately. This may not be true for everyone, but I honestly think that romantic love is more of a choice than people make it out to be. There's so much mythology surrounding it, and I think really it's a just a product of continual kissing and hand holding and spending more and more time with someone. I think we really and truly can grow to love almost anyone, and often times, we're more in love with being in love, with the flowers and hearts of it, than we are with someone else. The more I kiss my co-star for instance, the more I like him. I think there are so many people who can be "right" for us. And so much of it just depends on timing or what you can get from one person-- what it is you need at some certain point in your life. That whole concept of--

"Suddenly I realized I was madly in love with so and so"

usually really comes down to

"suddenly, after having gotten laid, I realized I was in love with so and so."

Does this make sense? I know I sound terribly cynical, but it's not really that. It's just the more I've observed myself and others, the less and less I believe in being "swept away" by romantic feelings into some deep true love. I think usually if you get swept away, it's a product of exploring, through someone else, a part of yourself you haven't accessed.

Take for instance Angus. Don't get me wrong, I do love him dearly, but I think what caused me to be so utterly captivated by him was the wild sexuality he allowed me to explore within myself. That doesn't make that relationship any less than it is, and it doesn't mean I don't legitimately care for him, but I romanticized it all so much in my mind a long time ago. Now having been exposed to so much and having been forced to deal with so much, I can see my feelings, passionate and REAL as they have been, for what they actually are. If feelings come on suddenly like that when they weren't there before, especially when it's brought to the forefront by some new physical contact, I've learned to be wary of the subtext. If you're a romantic person who sees the good in everyone, it's easy to get fixated and involved in the revel of it all, and miss the big picture.

But back to Curtis. I am glad to be playing opposite someone whom I enjoy exploring those romantic feelings for. And I like kissing him. A lot. (Shhh. Don't tell.)

In other news, I met Mr. Wonderful's girlfriend today, and she is as wonderul as he is. I was afraid she'd be some boring BU type "Pretty Girl" and she's not in the least. I mean, she's beautiful, in a very interesting way. And she was completely endearing and genuinely friendly. I liked her immediately.

It made me glad that he has such good taste.

Oh my wild crushing ways. When will I stop crushing? And now the multiple crushing! See, when it's Spring and the people you know are so attractive and bright and kind and talented, you can really fall for almost anybody.

And any tie that holds can be broken
Dare your little world to be open
Anyone can be your brand new love

And so I have to ask myself, will I ever be able to pick just one person?

The answer to that question is, I hope, a resounding NO.

After having made out with Curtis I'm feeling a tad revved up. I suppose I should just save it up for next rehearsal.

Gosh, why can't I ever get enough of making out? How many times in a week will be enough?