Monday, April 21, 2008

My Work Boyfriend

I have a work boyfriend. I'll call him Mike, because that's not his name (although I work with two nice young men named Mike, but neither of them is my work boyfriend). I don't see Mike very often - he used to come to my building once every two weeks or so, but now it's more like once every six months. I am always very happy when I know that Mike is coming in. I usually try to look cuter on days when he's going to be there - I shower, I put on eyeliner, and try to wear one of the more flattering outfits from my closet. I like to think that I "sparkle" just a little bit brighter when he's around. And there's nothing wrong with that. Sparkling is good. It's fun to get my flirt on.

Does this mean I don't love my man? Not a chance. No one needs to be threatened by Mike. He's just a diversion. But I was a little sad to hear that Mike is getting married. I was hoping that I was his secret work girlfriend.

work boyfriend - B-

Friday, April 11, 2008

The Smell of Spring

I really, really, really can't stand the smell of worms. Did you know that worms have a smell? I smell it after every spring rainstorm, and it grosses me out. And then I see worms on the sidewalk, and that grosses me out even more.
From what I hear, worms are good for the planet. But I still think they're gross.

worms - D

Tuesday, April 08, 2008

You Have Got To Be Kidding Me

Word on the street is, Project Runway is moving to Lifetime. LIFETIME! What the fuck, Bravo? What happened? Seriously, how did this happen?

Project Runway on Lifetime is a tranny hot mess. I don't care if Tim and Heidi are still on (and that is not confirmed, one way or the other). It won't be the same. Dammit.

PR on Lifetime - F!

Monday, April 07, 2008

Hugs

I love hugs. I really do. I think that there are very few day-to-day problems that couldn't be solved by hugging it out. If you and I have any kind of friendly relationship, even if it's a friendly business relationship, I guarantee that we will hug before our time together is through. I offer hugs to many of my co-workers (some enjoy it more than others, and I feel that has more to do with my sizable chest than the closeness of our relationship) and the people I work with on an occasional basis, if I don't see them very often.
I've heard that a friend-of-a-friend doesn't like hugs. I don't understand this. If I ever meet said FoF, I will probably hug her, not only to see what happens, but because I can't help myself. I'm a hugger.
One summer, I worked at a camp where we instructed that hugs between campers and counselors could not last longer than ten seconds. At first, many of us thought that this was ridiculous... but then we timed it out. Ten seconds is a long damn hug. We were also told not to touch campers on the knee. I still haven't figured that one out.

hugs - A

Saturday, April 05, 2008

Dogulating

I want a dog. I want a dog so bad that I can taste it. I want a dog like some girls want babies... which is where the term "dogulating" came from. See, I'm ovulating for a dog. I see pictures of puppies and I get all maternal and baby-talky. Oooh, look at da puppy! Ee's so cute! I wanna hold eem!

This is the kind of dog I want. In fact, this is the kind of dog I'm going to get, in about two months. Consider yourself warned. I'll probably turn into one of those people who carries around pictures of their puppy. I'm definitely going to be one of those people who takes their puppy to work. I am going to be so excited when I buy a baby gate for my office.

dogulating - A-

Wednesday, April 02, 2008

Resurrection

I write my blog in my head every day. EVERY DAY. I can't tell you how many times I've written those two sentences. In fact, I have a small store of topics to draw from, floating around up in my little noggin, yet for some reason, I don't write them down.

As someone once said to me, I don't know what my problem is.

But I'm not ready for my blog to be dead. I just need something to inspire me, something to make me sit up and take notice and say, Yes, that is worth blogging about. Where are my out-of-control Hollywood starlets? Where's my ridiculous headline from AOL? Where is... everyone?

feeble attempt at a comeback - B-