Like two sides of a very strange little coin.

The other night, Mister Mister’s friend Matt said that Mister and I are so alike, that I am like a female version of him

Does this mean that Mister also suffers from uncontrollable urges to put rhinestones in his mouth, and flees in complete terror from squirrels?

God I hope not.

Going to the chapel.

Beaker Callahan is getting married next week.

And while, in reality, this wedding will make her Mrs. Beaker Wermerskirchen, I think in the spirit of brevity (and my own personal sanity), we will leave her name as Callahan on this blog.

During next week's much-anticipated nuptials (the wedding of the season, as far as I am concerned), I will be standing in as Beaker's Maid of Honor-a job that requires little knowledge of hand to hand combat, but has everything to do with making sure the bride has an (as close as humanly possible) worry-free experience.

As this is my second time in the role, I believe that I am prepared for whatever challenges may come my way....save perhaps a squirrel infestation in the ball room, in which case, Beaker-you are on your own!

However this weekend, I will be staying close to home to help my new boyfriend-that's right, my boyfriend-celebrate his birthday. I started dating Mr. Mister a little over 2 months ago-and am really enjoying the whole thing. Although, having been mostly-single for the better part of three years, it is an odd thing not having to worry about being the only single member in attendance of an otherwise couple's night out, or desperately having to scrounge up a plus one-for any weddings or couple-centric events that might come my way.

I haven't told Mr. Mister about Super Secret Rantings; however, I hope that when I do, he can accept my many quirks, including the fact that I have numerous fears, many of which are fictional or could fit comfortably inside of a lunch box.

It's not me, it's you.

Last night my latest crush "friended me."

"friended (verb) : When a girl or boy you have been on a few dates with decides they just want to be friends. Once you are 'friended.' you are not allowed to be romantically interested in them. Friending can appear to happen without warning." (Urban Dictionary)

This serves as a sad little end-of-the-week blow to yours truly's otherwise grandiose ego.

Never mind that the guy made widely close minded remarks on our first date declaring that he would never date a person of my political persuasion, or that he liked to interrupt me when I was weaving one of my famously entertaining yarns.

The fact of the matter is, that I did not have any say in the matter-and that disappoints me.

On another note, I have 5, count them, FIVE spider bites on my left leg-does this mean I am going to get super powers? Because, in the event that I DO get powers, I will probably have to take the contents of this blog in a slightly different direction. For example, rather than agonizing over my latest crush or whether or not a squirrel is going to ambush me from a tree above my head- I will have to change my approach to topics addressing new concerns; namely, the everyday hassles of a person with superpowers.

For starters, how can I harness my super powers to see maximum results from exercising without having to put forth maximum effort? Is there a way these new powers of mine can ensure that only the best spam e-mails make their way into my e-mail inbox? Should I change my blogging tag from Little Miss Westchester to SUPER Little Miss Westchester? How about a discussion about how my new cape looks better with sneakers rather than the typical female super hero boots! Then there will be the inevitable diatribes regarding my efforts to find new ways to use rhinestones as weapons (in addition to their value in t-shirt making and arts and crafts projects).

Clearly, I have a LOT to think about.

C.R.U.S.H.

What I am about to say should not surprise you. In fact, if you have read any of my previous postings you will probably just shake your head and affectionately reply, "Oh Westchester, you crazy, loveable bitch." And your sentiment would be right, although I wish you wouldn't swear.

But as you might have guessed, I have a new crush. Coworker X has just not stepped up to the plate, so he will just have to be a friend; until such time as he DOES ask me out, in which case his friend status will have to be reevaluated. But new crush, oh new crush just oozes possibility.

Now comes the delightful, process of navigating the flirting/pre-dating phase and trying to figure out if he likes me in that way. The reality is I am bad at interpreting the behavior of men, which always leads to confusion; and, if the crush I had on Rico Suave a few summers back is any indicator, it also does not help that I have absolutely no gaydar.

Stay tuned!

Good news for people who hate bad poetry.

On the up side, Coworker X and I are still on speaking terms (despite my best efforts yesterday to sabotage any chance of me ever finding a boyfriend)...on the down side, however, X is now sending me his poetry to read.

Now I appreciate the modern sensitive male as much as the next gal-but nothing is worse than PRETENDING to like bad poetry because you are desperately attracted to the author.

I would post his latest poem about friendship here-but I don't want to scare off the 7 readers I have left...you'll thank me later.

Fight Club+Romance=Disaster

I just challenged Coworker X to a cage match...to the death...via a meeting request.

Could it be that I lack that necessary gene that keeps me from acting normal around boys I am attracted to?

He Sham-rock's my office environment.

In a turn of events that I could not have seen coming, Coworker X has proved to be a nice guy-as well as a cutie mc’ cutie pants…forget I just said that.

Earlier today, in a conversation about St. Patrick’s Day, I asked Coworker X if he would like to make a Shamrock Shake run with me today (translation: take a trip to McDonald’s to get a shake). X replied that he is, unfortunately, lactose intolerant and is not be able to drink shakes.

I told him that this was unfortunate, not only because he is missing out on one of the best food groups available (translation: cheese), but also because Shamrock Shakes are a delicacy…and only available one month out of the year. I then proceeded to make a strong case as to why, I believe, Shamrock Shakes should be given their own spot on the food pyramid before heading reluctantly back to my desk.

Not two hours go by, before I hear someone say my name over my shoulder-and there, with a Shamrock Shake for yours truly, is Coworker X.

Whatta guy...whatta shake!!!