Though Feb and I are still basking in the glow of our newly regained bliss (it's the one month anniversary of new re-relationship-ness today!), there is one teensy weensy problem that just doesn't seem to be going away.

I'm insanely jealous, Readers. I don't know what's wrong with me! I'm not a jealous person in general, really, and I usually try not to be around people who are because it's just so exhausting. But lately I have become a very jealous long-distance girlfriend who cannot stand the thought of other girls being around Feb.

I think that part of the problem dates back to when I was in Foreignland. Feb and I went on a little mini-vacation to Foreignland's most well-known and popular city. We toured the sights, enjoyed the shopping and food and some theater, and even managed to find an exclusive little night club where we secured a cozy booth and snuggled together while sipping overpriced cocktails.

Feb stood up and offered to get another round. I was feeling particularly affectionate by this point and insisted on coming with him. He headed toward the bar, and I was about two steps behind him when another girl stopped him with a hand on his arm. She stepped close to him, her long, straight brown hair brushing against him and her wide, shapely mouth curving upward as she leaned in.

"Excuse me," she smiled, hand still resting on his forearm. "Do you know where the bathroom is?"

"No, sorry," Feb replied.

"Oh." The girl paused, pouted. (By this point I was ready to jump on her and squeeze her dainty little throat). "Well," she purred, leaning ever closer, "would you like to come find it with me?"

I nearly choked. I was standing RIGHT THERE! Feb turned her down quickly and politely, grabbed my arm, and pulled me to the bar. I shot her evil ice daggers with my eyes and tried to make her feel lucky that I have an accent and am clearly a tourist in her country that she is liley to never see again.

The point of this little fable, readers? Feb is really attractive. As in hot. As in attractive enough that girls will try to pick him up while his girlfriend is standing two steps away!

And really, I'm lucky to have such a good looking guy who is also amazing, I know, but it is really not great when I am halfway around the world and am all too aware that the majority of hot young things in Foreignland are interested in MY prime real estate. (Was that too far over the cheesy line? I kind of liked it!)

Anyway, I was doing some myspace stalking the other day, and realized just how many girls Feb is friends with. I know he sees them as innocent friendships; he is an incredibly friendly person who is really nice to everyone he meets, male or female. It's just that most of his friends who are female have, at one point or another, tried to get together with him (and yes, that runs the full spectrum of meanings that that phrase can hold!) And he has rejected them, explained to them again about his lovely Canadian girlfriend who is holding her breath and waiting for him, and told them he is not available nor interested. Yet they keep hanging on his every word and laughing at all his jokes, believing deep down that no long-distance relationship can really work, and if they keep wearing their skimpy little outfits and playing coyly with their white-blond hair, they will eventually win him over. I can't stand it! It wouldn't be as much of a problem if they weren't all pretty, skinny girls, but they are, which makes everything worse.

Call me crazy, but when I go to leave a comment on his myspace page as a little surprise (I dislike myspace, so writing to him on it is a special treat for Feb!), I am not thrilled to see these aforementioned girls littering his page with their pictures and flirtatious comments. Today it made me so mad that I went for a run. A good long one, and with every step I told myself that I would lose more weight and become a thousand times prettier than Feb already thinks I am, and a million times hotter than the silly little girls that surround his life.

Shallow? Maybe. Perhaps that's not the best bit of arsenal in my collections of motivation for losing weight and getting fitter, but it works. Plus, if I can show up in Foreignland and be fit enought to look better than the foreign chicks in a great pair of jeans and be strong enough to wring their necks if they ever lay their hands on Feb again, then all the better!