(no subject)

Turns out that my cubicle can seat seven.
The new guy used to work in the primate house at UW. When I got there this morning I told him 'welcome to the monkey house' and then realized that, oh yeah, i'm the only one there that listens to the Dandy Warhols. But man, he totally worked with monkeys.
Dear coworkers, still not interested in a new boyfriend.

I could wax rhapsodic about all of the cute Douglas Coupland-reading boys, but I'd prefer to just think all about that myself and not share. But hi, I didn't make a -total- ass of myself, and he signed my books with an x with a circle around it, which we've decided means a hug and a kiss.
Oh holy shit, man, he -signed- my copy of Gen X. Signed it! And we talked about Florida! In complete sentences! And they're making a movie out of All Families are Psychotic! And he's finishing a sequel to Microserfs and they write letters to Ronald McDonald in it!
And he -signed- my fucking copy of Gen X, man! And shook my hand! Twice!
I'm practically made of exclamation points.

And now, now I'm wiped out. I'll answer emails tomorrow, I swear, in between meetings and happy twirling around in my chair.