So here's my day.

Last night, there was a smoke problem late last night in my apartment probably caused by the restaurant down below. So I figure that it would be best to open the windows and allow all of the smoke to air out. But what I wanted to do in order to isolate the heat in the apartment was to close my bedroom door. Made sense, right? Right???

Yeah, well, it was one of those priceless fucking mornings. I woke up at around 6:30 in order to get to work early, and I heard a noise from the other room behind my bedroom door. It was the combination of a low tongue roll and a wing-flapping. I shut my eyes and try to fall back asleep because I had hoped I was dreaming, even though I knew that I wasn't. I didn't want to see what was behind door number 3.

Suffice to say, two big fucking pigeons had made their way into my apartment and were chilling on the sofa, apparently trying to watch TV. I, however, outsmarted them because I had gotten rid of my cable three weeks ago. So I literally took the next hour to try and get them out of my apartment. Whenever I thought I had success, the pigeon would take a left right before the window as if to say, "Shit, it's COLD out there. I'd rather be in here with Captain Zebrapants than out in this weather."

Needless to say, when I finally got them out, my apartment was Poopfest '04. There was pigeon shit EVERYWHERE. I still cannot fathom how they managed to poop in some of the places they did... like my toaster??? INSIDE the toaster? I mean, first of all, it's a difficult shot. Secondly, why INSIDE the toaster???

So, needless to say, I showed up at work on time (which meant I was late) and finally got the crap I needed to done. I did a little work, bitched on Erin's Xanga for awhile, and then did a little work. Melissa, one of the project managers, made me work on a project for an hour and a half that ended up getting completely scrapped. Yay.

The bright spot of my day occured in two places: 1) when Justine responded to my emails and 2) when I got on the DDR Extreme machine. I finally beat Dance Dance Revolution with no problems and also beat Burnin' Heat heavy. I made a list of all the songs I haven't beat and I'm flying through most of them. Paranoias are tough for me for whatever reason.

Regardless, as I came home after DDR, I had my iPod on my head as I normally do. I got to my door, and opened it. I let out this big fart (it was one of those farts that you need to take and you assume nobody's around to hear it). Big problem: my next door neighbor who is a gorgeous Columbia Law student about 25 years old had opened her door thinking that I was her husband. Upon hearing the airhorn I let rip, she laughed as if her jaw was going to fly south for the winter. I took off my iPod and whirled around to see that I had made her day and ruined my decade. "I always think you're Sam [her husband]," she exclaimed as she quickly shut the door. I was left alone to bear the embarassment of that beast-rip.

It's definitely bed time.