ARRRRGH! I CAN'T STAND THE SIGHT OF SEELEY BOOTH!

Angela just laughs at me when I tell her that...she thinks I'm fighting my sexual attraction for him and that it's causing me tremendous frustration, but I'm absolutely positive she couldn't be more wrong.

That man is a smug, arrogant, opportunistic rat bastard, and I detest him! I never want to work with him again!

Dr. Goodman thinks he can 'loan me out' to the FBI whenever he chooses, since the Jeffersonian and the FBI work together, and that's fine, I suppose, as long as he doesn't 'loan' me to Special Agent Booth again.

I know you're wondering why a rational, logical scientist such as myself has developed such an acute aversion to another person, but I have my reasons.

Angela says I'm making up reasons to hate Agent Booth because I'm afraid I might like him too much. She assumes that just because she finds him sexually desirable, I must think of him that way as well. That's laughable. I can hardly tolerate being in the same room with him.

Why? Perhaps if I provide you enough evidence, you'll understand.

For example, consider our most recent case.

Agent Booth requested that Homeland Security hold me for questioning after I refused to return his phone calls. It was definitely an abuse of his position within the FBI. There I was, in the airport after I returned from my trip to Guatemala, minding my own business, when members of Homeland Security took me into custody just because Booth requested it. Of course, they were upset because I resisted arrest and made them look incompetent, but they had no business stopping me in the first place. Then Booth shows up, of course, trying to prove that he's an alpha male and in charge. It was the 'I'm a badass federal agent, come to rescue a damsel in distress' routine. I wouldn't have needed rescuing if he had left me alone in the first place, but according to him he needed my help to solve a disturbing case, and drastic measures were necessary to get my attention.

Yeah, right...Basically he kidnapped me, or more accurately, he seconded me. That's one reason I've refused to work with him. He's obnoxious and arrogant, and it doesn't bother him to bend the rules if it suits his purpose. His overblown actions in this matter just proved it again. However, I chose to put aside my objections to working with him when he assured me I could have full participation in solving the case of Cleo Eller. I knew I could be a mature adult about the situation, and I could attempt to be tolerant of his condescending attitude toward me and my team in order to obtain justice for this young woman. I also knew that Special Agent Jackass must be in desperate need of my assistance, so I made a bargain with him. I would help him solve the case if he would allow me to go out into the field with him while he investigated it. I was tired of being tied to the lab. I wanted to see how my expertise was being put to use by the FBI.

He readily made the bargain, even invoking the names of two fictional television characters to seal the deal. (He's really quite ridiculous.) He took me to meet his boss, Director Cullen, who gave a somewhat less than enthusiastic blessing to our arrangement….not that I really care what Cullen thinks, since I work for the Jeffersonian. Anyway, the arrangement was working well until Booth realized that he might be in line to head the team investigating Ms. Eller's death. Then he wanted nothing to do with me or my team. He was going to handle this all on his own, because, according to some perverse wisdom on his part, cops solve criminal cases, not 'squints'. (Squints is Booth's derisive name for extremely intelligent people who have basic reasoning skills.)

So that was the crux of the matter...he had me detained and demanded that I help him with this difficult case, and then once I'm interested, and I want to help with the case, he tells me he doesn't need me any more. And Angela wonders why I'm angry….

But there is something else...something I'm slightly embarrassed about...I should've told Special Agent Fancy Pants to go to Hell and let him struggle to find enough evidence on his own to solve the Cleo Eller case. Obviously, he thought he didn't need me after all. But I was enjoying the challenge of being away from my palace of science and out in the real world. It was quite interesting to see what happens on the enforcement side of the law. So when Booth said he had to get his ducks in a row to be able to lead the investigative team…..I said I could be a duck.

That's right. I offered to be a duck. Seriously. I was willing to allow Booth to be my superior in this matter, even though I am far more intelligent than he is. And if that's not embarrassing enough, I blackmailed him into allowing me to continue on the case. I wanted to prove that science could be invaluable in solving crimes, and I was willing to go to great lengths to do so, even to the point of demanding to work with a cocky jackass federal agent who wouldn't know a femur if it bit him on the gluteus maximus.

So now I'm stuck working with this obstinate man who thinks scientific thought is useless in solving a crime. "Squints don't solve crimes...cops do." Fine, Booth. Go solve your crime. I'll just provide the evidence you need for the court case since juries won't be impressed with your gut instinct. Don't worry about thanking me…

Is tolerating his condescending behavior toward me really worth it? I don't know...I'm not sure I can tolerate his thinly veiled arrogance and his total lack of logic. I need to be around people who think rationally without being influenced by emotion. I think it's better if I just avoid him altogether. He makes me crazy.

I HATE SEELEY BOOTH.