I Just Need To Think of A Cool Tag Name To Deface Things With

I woke up this morning to discover the world's largest pimple taking up prime real estate on the southern tip of my chin. Part of me suspects that it is because I did not get my daily fruit (singular) allowance in the other day and this is my body's way of telling me it's craving an apple, and another part of me thinks my body is just rejecting my face. I can go for weeks without a single blemish and then all of a sudden my complexion looks like a minefield. This zit ain't jokin' around either. It has established quite the stronghold. It's one of those ones that kind of forms under the skin so nothing short of a cheese grater will reduce its appearance and I'm sure it's only a matter of time before it invites a few of its' friends to the party.

Oh well I don't have anyone to look nice for anyway. I haven't spoken to My Pretend Future Husband Who Doesn't Know It Yet in days in the hopes that just maybe he would miss me and realize his life is meaningless without me in it. But the other day I broke my talking-to-him fast by accidentally messaging him. And get this shit, he called me a lameass! I mean he was joking... and it was in response to me calling him a lameass...and he did it in an away message.. but still. This is a very bad sign for our pretend future relationship! How am I supposed to keep on pretend dating him when he doesn't show a shred of appreciation for me and degrades me so? I don't think I can tolerate his abuses much longer. I may pretend future divorce him or have a pretend affair if this nonsense keeps up. Unless of course, lameass is his term of endearment for me now. Awww... how cute! That's so much better than pumpkin or sugarbottom or something stupid like that. Maybe he IS pretend in love with me after all!

Still until he asks me out, I am reinstituting my conversation blockade with him forever!... or until the next time I talk to him. And yes I am an 11-year-old girl at heart.

Today was slightly less enervating than yesterday, though almost everyone in my office is getting sick for some reason. To me this means one of two things: One, I am soon going to come down with whatever plague is working its way through our building or two, I am typhoid Mary and everyone is getting sick because I am host to some disease which doesn't effect me.

Now it's just down to me, the reference librarian, the map librarian, and our Indian Graduate assistant who might quit at any minute because anything makes her shake like a leaf. Lemme explain. Around the office we like to play a little game called "What's making that weird noise?" and when the answer isn't me, it is invariably the air conditioner. The other day it was making some odd sound which kept growing louder and louder and the Indian graduate assistant was telling everyone she was afraid it was going to explode. Being the comforting person that I am, I assured her that her cubicle was well within the blast radius of the air conditioning unit and later, when I walked back into the office, it was turned off. AHAHAAHHAA!

When I wasn't making my coworkers paranoid I was busy trying not to fall asleep. Very boring day, so I decided to take a little tour of the bathrooms (which I don't actually use because I've got a mild phobia of public restrooms). After checking out my monster pimple in the mirror, which by that time had grown even larger (if it keeps up at this rate it may be able to declare statehood), and I journeyed into the stalls to check out the graffiti it had to offer. To my surprise there wasn't any in the first or last (the handicapped) stall, but the middle stall certainly delivered.

First there were the sage words of advice, "Smoke weed everyday" followed by some political commentary in the form of "Give peace a chance Kill W". The illustrations were a bit of a let down - an indescribable gang symbol with little googly eyes and the World Wrestling Federation logo, but I was certainly pleased by one comment.

"I wear thongs" scrawled on the stall door with a thick permanent pen. This last piece excites me for some reason. I don't know whether I'm more tickled by the idea of a girl using the men's bathroom or some thong-lovin' guy excitedly expressing his appreciation for his underwear, but either way I LOVE it.

It kind of makes me want to bring my own contribution to the table... err wall, but I don't want to be unoriginal, I want to entertain people or at the very least make them go "What the fuck?!" while they're doin' their business. I was thinking maybe I would write a word search or better yet a scavenger hunt where you have to look at various parts of the stall to find the answers to a riddle. The possibilities are endless... I don't know when I'll be able to do it though, what with my busy schedule of dropping pencils into the map cases and hiding in the microfiche room. One man can only be so productive for so long...

In the meantime I'll definitely be brainstorming... while I should be like doing stuff at work and figuring out how the hell to get rid of this pox on my chin. Gah!

Does anyone have any secrets? Tooth paste? Special astringent? Virgin's blood?

2:^)