DEAR E. JEAN: What's the secret of flirting? Seriously, E. Jean. If you missed learning to flirt in high school, what do you do? Resign yourself to editing the school paper forever? We smart girls want to know! How do we attract men? I'm in law school, surrounded by cute guys. Of course, I'm keeping my eyes on the books, but whereas I know how to read my criminal cases, reading the male countenance is definitely not in my skill set. -- Girl on the Verge

DEAREST VERGE: "Skill set?" Phoo. All you need is a pair of eyes, a tight sweater, and a tube of spankin' red lipstick, and you'll squash the hearts and mangle the brains of three quarters of the men on the Law Review. The Corpus Juris of Flirting can be contained in one statement:

TORTURE YOUR VICTIM.
Vex him! Thrash him! Keep him off balance! Even if you possess not a cc of C.C. (Coquetry Courage), stroll into the law library, pick out the most devilish (or sweetest or shyest) chap in the room, and as you're shaking back your hair and removing your coat-- revealing a delicious Creamsicle-cashmered torso-- throw a mischievous smile in his direction. When you've got his attention, drop your eyes. A minute later, as you're uncapping your Sharpie, tilt your head slightly away and gaze back at him through your lashes. When his eyes meet yours, smile and look away. Two minutes later, open your eyes wide and gaze again in his direction; by this time, the poor fellow (who may never have re alized you were on the planet before) will be rather excited. Some anthropologists are convinced this look/look away pattern is innate to homo sapiens. All I know is, after a protracted afternoon of this torment, the poor fellow will be filled with such unbearable longing for your next glance, he'll start smashing his skull with Sandra Day O'Connor's gavel.

The goal of flirting is love. And the essence of romantic love is uncertainty. And uncertainty will be created if, when you converse with the chap, you show not the slightest concern whether he lives or drops dead-- while at the same time entrancing him with your fire-apple-red lips and saucy flicks of genuine admiration, as in: "You nailed that guy in Torts!"

Flirting is orchestrated torment. Butterflies do it. Badgers do it. Birds-- hell, the entire animal kingdom flirts as if future generations depended on it. Read Dr. Tatiana's Sex Advice to All Creation by the prodigious Olivia Judson to see what-- Oop! Forgot to check my bleach. .. . Holy Mother of Miss Clairol! I look like a Banana Creme Smoothie! Excellent! Fabulous! Now just let me dump a little #26 D "Primordial Clam" toner on here, and look at the next question.

DEAR E. JEAN: I'm standin' at a fork in the road. attended Columbia, where I discovered the issues I want to be involved in, and currently work as a social advocate. Really DO care about helping the underserved. At the same time, a voice inside me keeps calling.

I want to be a singer! I took singing classes this year I enjoyed immensely. The open mikes are working out, and yet it's time to be getting my master's of social work. I feel like I should be pursuing realistic ventures, but I'm finding it hard to focus. Should I join a band? Try to Build a club act? Or should I lust get real and go back to boring school?-- Whipsawed in New York

WHIPSAWED, DEAR: Nuh-uh. You're not standing at "a fork." The fork you're talking about is in your charming, manicured grip. It has your initials on it, and you can either use it to spear yourself all the glamorama goodies from the Big Buffet of Totally Bitchin' Choices-- form a band, help the desperate and the needy, build a club act, and go to school-- Or you can wedge that tinned utensil up your backside.

You possess a noble heart. You want to do good work. So it's an incomparable disaster to think that taking up music and getting your master's degree isn't a "realistic venture." Here's my advice: To be truly alive-- in your wanky words, "to just get real"-- you must live the grabbing sort of life and (1) do what excites you, (2) don't do what doesn't, (3) and don't leave your freakin' toner on for two-and-a-half hours!

I look like Eminem with a whisk broom strapped to his forehead. So, dolls, I'm just going to fly to Target and pick up ANOTHER toner. Meanwhile, here's one of the most interesting questions to come into Ask Eeeeee in quite a while:

DEAR E. JEAN: I think I've fallen in love with a man I've been dating for five weeks. He feels exactly the same way and says this could be it. Sexually, we've been taking things very slowly. Last night, he told me he needed to tell me something-- and explained he had genital herpes. He said he'll understand if I do not want to pursue the relationship, but will be crushed if I don't and hopes we can find a way through this. I've spent my adult life (I'm thirty-one) being extremely afraid of getting herpes, and trying to avoid it. I've heard horror stories from friends who have it.

I can't believe how the universe works! Here's this awesome man, and he arrives in my life with this dreadful disease! Is choosing to be with him agreeing to get herpes? What if I become infected and things don't work out? Or worse, what if we stay together, I get it, and wind up resenting him for what it could do to me? HELP! -- In a state of Stupefaction

DEAR STUPEFIED: 0, spare me your "dreadful disease," you feeble little dewdrop. Genital herpes is not a pretty condition, it's not a fun situation, perhaps as many as one in five sexually active American adults have it-- but you're not looking at cancer here, you're not talking hepatitis C. Basically t'he horror-infested nightmare you're so "extremely afraid" of is a cold sore on his privates-- so go dig a pit and throw yourself into it.

Because if you're in love and can't solve a medium-size problem like this, ye gods, there's no future for the two of you as a couple. I've consulted a New York-based expert on genital herpes, the very handsome Dr. David Colbert, a dermatologist and internist, and this is what he says:

"My prognosis for this couple is absolutely hopeful. As long as they educate themselves, herpes will play a minor role, and they can have a fabulous relationship! They should see a dermatologist together, look at the man's pattern-- Are his outbreaks monthly? Yearly?-- and come up with a plan (condoms, drug therapy) to maximize the chances she'll never become infected. I'd suggest suppressive therapy-either acyclovir, famciclovir, or valscyclovir. Any of these drugs will decrease the frequency of outbreaks and reduce chances of viral shedding." (Weirdly, 80 percent of cases of genital herpes are transmitted when there are NO symptoms and the virus is "shed" from genital skin.)

Dr. Marianne Gillow, a renowned psychopharmacologist in New York, adds, "It's key not to panic. With intelligent care, herpes can be an easily managed medical condition." Amen! So visit a derm with your darling, make a plan to protect yourself, be joyful, and send me an invitation to your wedding.

And now that I've slathered on Nice 'n Easy # 106 on my locks and look like a colorful cross between a camel and a palomino, which is pretty much the way I always look-- i.e., as if I never think about my looks-- I'm happy. Plus, I've saved more than 200 bucks, which I'm sending to Sister Rose Mbewe, Homecraft Centre, P0. Box 69, Chipata, Zambia, to help the children orphaned by the truly horrid disease, AIDS.