I'm also immature. I enjoy being young, and deep down, I wish I was younger and had even less responsibility. Half of the time I have the sense of humor of a teenage boy, and the rest of the time I'm cooing like a teeny-bopper over whatever has taken my fancy, be it shoes, furry animals, or the opposite sex.

So why is it at staff meetings that I seem to sometimes be the lone [and silent] reasonable person. Half of these women are twice as old as I am, and all they do is bitch and moan about the dress code.

"The dress code? Why frozen, what company is so stuck in the dark ages that it has a dress code worth complaining about every single week for an entire hour?"

I'm not sure really. After all, my hair is a shocking shade of pink, my earlobes are stretched to a 10 gauge, and I have my nose pierced. Today I'm wearing a skirt that comes mid-thigh and is sure to be giving quite a show to any under-desk webcams that HHMG may have mounted. I'm also wearing knee high tights and my pin-up pumps. Up top, I'm wearing my new camisole and cardigan that attracted leers from random guys in the hall. Dress code?? What dress code? Oh, I'm sorry, the dress code that says you can't wear denim except on Fridays and if your shoes are open toed; they must have a back or an ankle strap.

"That's it?"

Yes kiddies, that's it. Once a week, I am dragged from my work, dragged from my music, dragged from the quiet security of my cube where I am free to carry on extended conversations via email with some kiddies and get all hot and bothered by still other kiddies, to a staff meeting to hear middle aged biotches gripe about the important things in life.

Meanwhile, I'm glaring at them all and mouthing "Kill you."

In other news, I caught MI5 last night. So tasty. The best part of it? "Nice sweater Miss. Does your boyfriend like that sweater Miss? Can I be your boyfriend Miss?" Don't know what I'm talking about? Too bad for you.

And then, too complete my bit of weekly television, Queer Eye, a convenient repeat of the one I missed last week. Oh how I love Carson. *sigh* Sure, Kyan's the hottie, and I'm intrigued by Ted, but Carson is most definitely the coolest.

After that I turned in after a lengthy discussion about past boys. You know, even though I don't fuck, I realized that I'm quite the little slut. *grin* And on the subject of fucking, I could have used a quickie before bed last night. *sigh*

You need to be fucked often and by someone who knows how to do it!