Last week, I was called a “pretty boy.”

Do I look like a pretty boy to you?

Decidedly not. In that picture I do, however, manage to come off looking like a zombie with turkey waddle.

At least it isn’t arm waddle.

I often use the women’s bathroom at work. It’s right next to the men’s, and when the men’s is occupied, I find that going to the ladies room is a better option than dancing in the hallway or peeing uncontrollably as I sit at my desk.

I even have a little joke worked out for when I get caught exiting the bathroom I’m not supposed to use. I once walked out and into a co-worker named Lenna, who looked at me suspiciously, which is understandable, as that room isn’t often used by anyone with a penis.

“There are things you don’t want to know about me,” I said.

What I haven’t got worked out, though, is what to do when I walk into the women’s bathroom and it smells like poop.

I entered and paused “Goddamn it,” I thought, while I considered making a quick run for it, far far away. It’s not that I couldn’t take a little poop smell. It was just that I didn’t want to become known as the guy at work that stunk up the ladies room something nasty.

I decided to listen to my insistent bladder and chance it. I finished my business, left the room and opened the door into the hallway…

No one. I would not be blamed for the girl-smell. This time.

Items of note: The new show I’m working on is going well. It’s as fun as I hoped it would be, and I’m so glad I chose to go with this job instead of the Bands Reunited gig. I signed a confidentiality agreement that would fine me $50,000 for every detail I gave away, but I’m more than willing to spill if you pony up, say, $54,000…you know, just for my trouble.

It’s really going great, though. The first episode is awesome, and surprisingly, although it isn’t a comedy, it’s going to be really funny. I hope everyone gets to see it. If you have Showtime, keep an eye out for it, or bug your friends with cable to tape it for you.

Friday morning, I’ll be back home in Chicago. That’s notable in itself, but the extra twist is that I’ll be seeing Sally.

We hadn’t really talked since January, until just last week. It was mostly her idea to not talk, the idea being that it would help her finally put “us” behind her. I agreed, because I thought it would be a good idea for both of us. Besides, at the time, I was trying to focus on things with Robin.

My birthday and Sally’s are on the same day. Between that and my coming in for the Taste, we had ample reason to talk, and we did.

There are still feelings on both sides.

I’ve been in Los Angeles, we’ve been apart, for two years. That’s two thirds of the time we were actually together. And, despite serious efforts, we still haven’t been able to fully extract ourselves from one another. I guess that story isn’t over yet.

I’m not sure what it means when two people continue to act this way after such a long period of time, and I have no idea how it’s going to play out.

We’re just going to take this slowly, one moment at a time.