No, Ma�am. It may be "A Very Espanol Christmas" at your desk, but I won�t have it. ANY of it. Apparently she thinks her music is turned low enough that it surely won�t bother her co-workers. Well, Feliz Noyoudont, it DOES. This is the same chick with the extra-loud default Nokia cell phone ring. In our pin-drop audible environment, that f�ing Nokia ring might as well be a chainsaw. It scares the shit out of me, day in and out, and has undoubtedly taken minutes, if not hours, off my life. I�m gonna secret santa that bitch some earbuds.

The little webbed piece of skin that extends between my thumb and index finger was slammed between two 5 pound weights the other night. It didn�t break the skin, but stung like hell, and is now all bloody from the inside.

While Hurricane �Toothpaste Thief� Houseguest was in town, we ventured to The Roundup one evening. We encountered not one, but TWO of The Heartbreaker�s best friends. While one inquired about the identity of the hot guy I had been chatting with earlier at the gym (Toothpaste Thief), the other told me I looked hot. Too bad The Heartbreaker wasn�t around to see all this. And yeah, before the night ended, his best buddy told me twice more how hot I looked. More than basking in ego strokes, I just wanted to be sure the news made its way back to THB.

There�s this fun Irish guy in the office� he has a cute accent, always wears ugly ties, but it�s kind of cute because he�s outgoing and friendly. He may be family. He just came by to borrow my stapler. Mmm hmm. The ole can-I-borrow-your-stapler-oops-I-stapled-my-phone-number-to-your-shirt trick. Or not. He said hi, commented on my new desk decor, and was off.

The Real World is coming to Austin. Oh wait� so.