are you an amateur or is it you're unkind?

title courtesy of The Bird and The Bee's "fucking boyfriend", which song was what was playing on the CD that I gave Little Trouble Girl after her romantic misadventure with her puppy-love/co-worker person thing when she was driving to work and ran into (figuratively) said puppy-love/coworker. Like some shit out of a John Hughes movie or something.

speaking to squirt yesterday she drops "you know the reason i never liked you romantically 12 years ago when we met was because when i asked what you looked like you were so negative that it killed it". i cock-blocked myself. I bummed about this on several levels.

got mail from skeeter's man that her kid (#2) had been born, with attendant pictures. They both look glowingly happy, her in particular but that might be a mix between relief and happy and tiredness. The amusing thing is on friday I wanted to call her and in fact got as far as dialing but she's still mad at me (justafiably, i'm a sellout although i take issue with her iron-gripped resentimiento, i'm guilty of the same thing so i can't really complain about that too hard.) and probably would not have answered but I never got to follow up and call again. Too much of that is annoying, especially when someone is pointedly not answering. But WWu mails occasionally, and I hear things on the grapevine de rato en rato so I guess it's ok.

It's hardly news that I am horrible about checking my messages. So yesterday I finally check my voicemail at work -- I haven't checked it since December, easily. There's a familiar number but I can't place it. Victor, telling me to fix the fucking LDAP lookups about two weeks before he died.