AARRRRRRRRRRR (not like a pirate)

Ok, I seriously need to get something off my chest. If I am at work and you feel the need to make fun of me because I am young and then hug me to make me feel better about myself, you may get a heavy, hard kick in the balls...and I wear pointy heals. I say this as fair warning so that when it happens you cannot say that I didn't warn you. Yes, I was in 7th grade when Clueless came out. Yes, I was wearing diapers when Culture Club first shocked the planet. And yes, ten years ago I was just getting out of my awkward phase consisting of plaid, bad bangs, and a deep love of Kurt Cobain. This does not mean that I am not qualified to do my job just because I am not a fat, prematurely balding tool. In fact, I think it makes me that much more qualified. Especially because 10 years ago, you were the same person you are now, but with more hair on your head.

I feel better now. Yes, the Tool is the same guy who thought I was engaged. And the same guy who decided to go over and bug our better half...I don't know how old he really is, but my guess is 30, going on 55 looks-wise and going on 20 emotionally. I'm not usually this harsh about someone's looks. In fact, so long as I'm not supposed to be judging them for something based on their looks (like when watching America's Next Top Model, The Biggest Loser, or Access Hollywood...for the record, I don't watch any of these, but you get my point), I rarely care about people's looks. But this guy...THIS GUY pisses me off.

Like today, when I was on the phone, he screams at me from his office (that has a door...I just have a cubicle) about something stupid and completely unimportant. AND THEN because I didn't answer him (because I was on the phone) he came into my cubicle and tapped me on the shoulder. Right. Because I'm going to say to the person, "Oh, hold on, my colleague wants me to pop my jaw out again so I can show him how I can lock it out of joint." Mind you, the only reason he knows I can pop my jaw out in the first place is because The Angry Squirrel and I went on a joint-popping spree at lunch today.

He just...doesn't get it. It's like he has no decorum for working in an office. And I understand that he's fairly new and proving himself, but The New Girl is totally cool. She's not loud and obnoxious and completely in everyone's face all the time.

And, on an unrelated related note, if you are gay and you are out, congratulations. If you are in the closet, I completely understand and I hope that one day you will have the courage to be out. If you are in the closet and are going to try to convince everyone that you are straight and you make up a girlfriend in order to do so, don't pretend to be dating a financial planner in the bank of a local branch that many local people use. Eventually it will come out that she does not know your name. At least say she's in Nebraska or someplace similar that no one in the office will visit and no one will accidentally bring you up on conversation.

Ok...so now that I've vented, I feel much better. It's been a really long week. Something like a gazillion hours long and next weekend is completely shot because I have to be at various street fairs. The Sunday one, the Morristown Fall Festival, is going to have puppets. I may be one of the costumed folk scaring, er, entertaining small children. We'll see how that all goes.