I’m sharing an office at work with a guy named K[censored]. So K for y’all. And I don’t mind that at all, as he’s fun. And having him there gives me an opportunity to rant, make mean comments about something so colossally retarded* that it’s almost beyond comments**, joke and run crazy ideas by someone. Oh, and did I mention he’s fun.

Across the court-yard, on the opposite building, there’s a dance studio. So every now and then they have ballet classes. K’s a big fan.

One day they had what looked like a private ballroom class. Then suddenly, the next time we looked out (yes, I’m keeping an eye on them too) the curtains are drawn.

K starts to laugh and winks, “oh, the next lesson… they drew the curtains for that.”

Me: Would you rather they hadn’t?!?

Of course I make fun of his new addiction to ballet now constantly.

——

One afternoon last week, K’s browsing the news sites online.

“Did you know monkey’s prefer Metallica to any other music?

Me: Huh?

K: Yeah, there’s been a study, and they preferred Metallica out of all others played.

Me: That’s kind of cool, really.

K: And their favourite song is my favourite too.

Me: So… if you think about it… you’re a monkey?

——

Because of where we work, the security restrictions are rather strict for our computers. Every now and then, I get this announcement when I try to access a web page that there’s an application the computer’s not allowed to perform or something like that. It happens. To everyone there.

Except K.

K gets other kinds of notices. His notices say:

“Access denied. The site you’re about to access contain with a 70% probability material of sexual or pornographic nature.”

Noone else in the place is getting that notice, and he keeps getting them all the time. And in all seriousness, he’s been trying to access academic articles and news reports.

Stop trying to watch porn at work, K!!

——-

Today Driver*** brought fruit for everyone (he was ordered to) to the break room / kitchenette. I saw him laying them out as I went to get a drink out of the fridge. Little later K returns to our office:

“There’s fruit in the kitchen.”

Me *not lifting my head from my reading*: Yeah, I noticed. Driver brought them a little while ago.

K: It’s nice, there’s all sorts of fruit, not just apples.

Me *still reading*: Yup, plums and peaches, at least.

K: And also monkeys.

*silence*

Both of us: Monkeys?!?

K *laughing hysterically*: I meant bananas!

Me: Right. There’s a monkey in our kitchen. Okay. *pause* Is he listening to Metallica?

* Thank you, Sgt Colbert. I’m totally keeping that.

** Original quote was “that’s so colossally retarded I can’t even comment that”. I guess I’m just better than Sgt Colbert. (Please don’t kill me now!)

*** Yes, we have a chauffeur there.

I had a conversation with my friend, and the mother of my goddaughter today with her on speaker phone so that Teddy could participate too. We were discussing the fate of few of her skirts.

Me: The brown one was cut apart to make Teddy’s leather trousers, wasn’t it?

My Friend, the Mom: Yes, it was. But the black one wasn’t, right? I decided to keep that still.

Me: Oh yeah, that’s true. *pause* You know what could be made of the black one? A biker jacket for Teddy!

the Mom: No, you’re not making a biker jacket to Teddy out of my old leather skirt!

Teddy (that is, my goddaughter in her ’Teddy-voice’): See?! I never get anything! This is so unfair!

Me *laughing*: Teddy, you just got a ton of new things when you visited me.

Teddy *in an innocent voice*: Can I come visit you again?

the Mom: No!

Me: *uncontrollable laughter*

… maybe even the month.

I might be in danger of developing a blog crush on Mr. Miller.

According to BF there’s a mysterious something about me that he called “you-thing”. A me-thing. How he got there is actually fairly simple. He was telling me about this totally ridiculous story about one of his team mates and said:

“really, it was such a you-thing to say!”

A me-thing?

Apparently a me-thing is something totally out of place in normal grown-up context and more likely to appear in either a Marx Brothers movie, or in my life. Like…

- when I managed to set a book on fire while reading in bath. I was going for the relaxing romantic feel, I got a good book, a hot bath with some really nice bath salts, some candles, a chilled (big) class of Gewürztraminer and all the time in the world. It was just lovely… Until I reached for my glass without taking my eyes off the page, held out the book for balance and, accidentally showed the book to a candle. Book caught fire, I screamed, tried to wave the book around to make it stop burning, actually not realising that fast that I’m sitting in a tub-full of water when BF rushes in after hearing my scream and just starts laughing his butt off.

- when I was pulled over by police for a breathalyzer (they were pulling everyone over). The cop, a young guy, looks down at me as I roll down the window, stops, takes another look and looks closer. I’m slightly confused until I realise he’s reading the print on my t-shirt. He starts to laugh out loud, calls over his partner to get a look of my shirt too, and finally they, still laughing, just tell me to go. They never made me blow into that straw-thingy. Oh, and what did my t-shit say? “Occifer, I swear to drunk I’m not God!”

- when I redecorated BF’s flat while he was on an away-game trip. When he asked me why I did it, I said: “I couldn’t find your copy of Coelho’s Alchemist.” He never really got to the logic behing going from looking for a book to redecorating an entire apartment, but that was probably because I distracted him with some lingerie. But I think he liked it. At least he kept it. edit: the apartment, not the lingerie. Though he did seem to like the lingerie too, come to think of it.

- when I said I need to focus on my school work instead of chatting with BF and watching a movie, and went to change into a plaid skirt and a white dress shirt. (what??? I concentrate better in that, it’s the whole school uniform -thing!) I did add knee socks but that was just for fun.

- when I was introduced to someone with a name “Lydia” and had to ask if she had any tattoos.

- when I had a debate with myself over which movie I want to see.

There are plenty of other examples, but you’re already getting quite enough potential blackmailing material on me.

Anyways, that’s a “me-thing”. Saying “I hate early. Must kill early” when the alarm goes off in the morning. Summing up my busy schedule to “thesis to write, shoes to buy”. Wearing sky-high heels, mini leather skirt, a turtleneck cashmere sweater and glasses to a dinner with BF and his agent to look intelligent and business-like.

Exclaiming “I have a me-thing!” as the last thing before hanging up with BF.