04.17.03 - 7:23 p.m.

Something interesting might be happening soon at work but I'm too scared to talk about it right now.

I went to the screening on Tuesday. I took Kerry for emotional backup, and good thing, because the sight of Evan's long, bushy mullet hair was pretty damn scary. The movie itself was decent, and for a while I was feeling a few pangs of jealousy over leaving, like maybe if I had stuck it out a little while longer, things would have been better. Fucking fame. It lures me back like a moth to the bug zapper every time.

Then we went to a bar to celebrate, and I remembered why I quit in the first place. Everyone talking about how Jack has actually gotten worse since I left and he became Assistant #1, and everyone talking in their little cliques. Even if I don't have my own posse at my current job, it's better than suffering there.

Oh, but Jack wasn't there in person. My prayers were answered.

I was pondering this while watching the travesty that is Buffy last night and then the Two Guys and a Girl rerun a few minutes ago: Why does Nathan Fillion insist on having the dorkiest haircuts known to man? Is it his head? Is he so oddly shaped that any haircut would look all Lloyd Christmas on him? I am mystified.