So, a few things: first of all, you should all be watching The Real Roseanne Show, and not just because I know someone who works on it, but because it�s really hysterical. It�s all about Roseanne and her nutcase family and friends doing a bunch of crazy shit and talking trash about each other and everyone else. I mean, what�s not to love, right?
Also, she�s got this one friend, I think her name is Colleen, and�girl is crazy. I mean, wow. Just�wow. Like, Roseanne was trying to pick an Executive Producer for her new cooking show, so they brought in this Kabalistic Face Reader -- which might be a very respectable position to hold indeed in the hierarchy of the Jewish faith, but darned if it doesn�t sound like something Captain Kirk would have instructed his crew to zap with a phaser set for �Stun� -- to give them all the once-over, and he wasn�t even halfway through the first face before Colleen completely lost it and started bawling because�well, they never really explained that. And then she sat in on the rather innocuous, if somewhat unorthodox, Executive Producer interviews, immediately following which she started muttering darkly in the background about blood on the walls and people acting suspiciously and some other shit, like, please don�t invite Colleen over when I bring the kids, okay Rosie?
But seriously, it�s a funny show, even if a lot of the people in it are pretty extreme, and take a bit of getting used to. And, dude�what the hell else are you going to do on a Wednesday night? And don�t start answering me, because I�m going to get really depressed if people go on and on about these exciting �lives� they have that don�t revolve around what�s on TV. Like that�s even possible. Please.
In other news, I�m starting to crush really, really hard on the Cute Receptionist, and that�s bad, bad, bad. Although it makes complete sense, because what do I do best but end up falling for guys who are a) straight, b) taken, c) fucked up, d) totally out of my league, e) assholes, f) players, g) whores (and not in the fun sense), h) all of the above, or i) any combination of the above? And I know I should just relax, and shit, but, y�all? I�m so not a relaxed person. When I like someone, I go completely teeny bopper for them.
Take, for example, Jesse. I worked with Jesse in Chicago. Jesse was smart, funny, cute, smart, generous, courteous, considerate, smart, funny, and smart. And funny. And I was sooooo in love with Jesse! He was perfect! Except for this irritating habit he had of liking girls. But whatever. The point is, we worked across from each other, and I didn�t get shit done because I spent all day mooning over him and writing his name all over my desk like a love-struck teenager.
And it�s happening again! I�ll hang out in the lobby for no reason, just blathering on and on about�nothing (�So, like, my favorite color is blue. I mean, it used to be green for a while, except even then it was really blue, but everyone�s favorite color is blue, so I wanted to be different. But really, it�s always been blue. You�re favorite color is blue, too, right?�), until I�ve blathered myself out and I finally retreat to my office, where I sit and plan out new things to blather about for a while before coming to my senses and resolving to be smarter about this, knowing that it�s not going to lead anywhere healthy. But then I go back down to the lobby (for legitimate purposes), and Jetson smiles at me and my knees get that warm butter feeling, and suddenly I�m blathering again (�And this one time, my mom made us all run around the house fifty times because she said we were too hyperactive, because I guess we�d eaten a whole bunch of sugar, which we weren�t supposed to do, but we had all this candy -- I forget why -- and so we ate it. And then we ran.�).
I realize that kind of countermands my whole Try To Impress Him With Your Keen Wit strategy, but given that he�s NOT AVAILABLE, maybe it�s all for the best.
Someone Got Here By Searching For: justin timberlake actual girlfriend And: Evil marketing director I�m Watching: The Real Roseanne Show, and as crazy as she is, I think I love Colleen. I�m Burning: An incense cone, and, oh my gosh, it smells like someone set fire to an old dishrag. Note to self: no more incense.