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I am pleased to report that since the heartbreaking "dog poo" incident there has been progress!  Ooto (I’ve decided I’m just calling her Ooto because Lisa is too damn difficult to remember) approached me in the hallway and asked about my weekend plans, perhaps implying "we should do something together!".  In an effort to look popular I said "Man, I don’t know. There’s so many things going on." to which she replied "Like what?", which was the point when I began to just blatantly lie.  "I’m going kiyaking" I said.  She was impressed by this.  "Kiyaking? Really? That’s awesome!"  Somehow I managed to shift the conversation from my faux-kiyaking exploits to my roommates being in Norway and me having the house all to myself.  She countered with "I’m all alone tonight too".  I suddenly became really uncomfortable.  Was she seriously implying that we do something together, or was this the biggest mind-fuck in history?  I couldn’t read her.  What was the right play?  I wanted to call a "time out" and call my friend Q-Dreams who is a serious gamer, but there was no time.  I just blanked.  "Well, have a good weekend" she said, and walked away.  And just like that it was over.  I went back to the mailroom and pondered these new developments.  At the very least she showed interest, and that’s something.  For now I’ll just play it cool…and go shopping for a kiyak.

Yesterday, July 27th 2005, was a great day! After eight long years I finally recieved my Honorable Discharge from the United States Army! BOOYAH! Even though I’ve been out of the service for four years, I was still considered a G.I., and in the event that beat the shit out of someone in a roadhouse bar I could be prosecuted for attempted murder because due to my intense Army training I am considered a lethal weapon. But NOW that’s over and I can kick all the biker roadhouse ass I want and only be prosecuted for assault!!! So tonight I’m hitting happy hour and not stopping until I get arrested running naked down Wilshire Blvd. singing Springsteen songs. I love you U.S.A.!

I think I may have reached the lowest depths of the office crush epic.  My beloved Lisa (who I have since forgiven for leaving me alone in the women’s restroom with a cockroach) approached me with important office related business.  Our conversation quickly turned to casual banter about our weekend and how the savages in my office were making her work on a photo shoot all weekend to which I excalimed "I’ll kill them!".  I must have said it a little too sincerely because she quickly responded with "No, no, no, it’s okay, really…"  Anyway, as conversation and death threats ensued she suddenly froze and looked at me funny. "Is that you?" she asked. "Is what me?" I said. "That smell Mike, what the hell is that?" It was true, there was a smell and sadly it was me.  I had stepped in dog shit on the way to work.  How my one-time uncanny sense of smell missed this all morning I do not know.  All I could think of was my damn neighbor with that horrible shitz-zu/terrier hybrid who keeps leaving little piles on the sidewalk in front of our house, but it was a moot point really because all that mattered now was that I was standing before the woman I loved smelling like dog crap.  "I stepped in shit!" I excalimed.  "I would do something about that." said Lisa as she polietely held her breath and walked away.  Devastated, I headed for the door where I was served the final insult as our maintence guy Miguel Padilla passed me and exclaimed "Whoa! You smell like shit bro!".  Yes, Miguel…I know.