I forgot that this is what driving is like

I am once again a driver.  After 2 years of city-living and 4 years in college I am driving regularly for the first time in 6 years.  Oh sure, I had a few months behind the wheel here and there.  A summer or 2 in college and that few months where I was living at home, but for the most part, I’ve been a non-driver since high school.

And I forgot what kind of crazies are out there.

Maybe you just don’t notice as a passenger, maybe people in Pittsburgh or Vernon aren’t quite as ruthless as they are in the Philadelphia suburbs, maybe it’s just because it’s close to Christmas.  Whatever the reason, driving has been, well, interesting lately.

What I’ve been noticing lately is that people behind you will cut you off on a turn.  As in, I’m sitting in my lane, with my turn signal blinking, waiting for the traffic to clear so I don’t get hit and then, out of nowhere, the car behind me, also turning, cuts me off.

HOW DOES THAT EVEN HAPPEN!?

The first time I experienced this was actually about a month ago.  I was turning left out of my neighborhood and the turn is, well it’s just that the road, well it sucks.  When you are turning into the ‘hood, there is this fake little half lane for you to get into but if you DO, you can forget actually executing said turn.  When you leave, you are stuck making a left hand turn.  Which, because of the little half lane means that your visual access to oncoming traffic is pretty much non-existent.  So you have to get way out into the road to turn.  So traffic is heavy and I’m waiting to turn and this guy in a little sports car comes flying out from behind me and tries to get into the turning lane before me.  ARE YOU KIDDING ME?!  Dude.  I’m sitting in the road with my LEFT turn signal on.  And you tried to turn LEFT and cut  me off?!  Where, with my LEFT TURN SIGNAL ON, could you possibly have thought I was going?!

And then there was what happened today.  I was near the mall, so maybe I was asking for it.  I mean, you don’t leave your house and head anywhere near the mall during the Christmas shopping season without expecting some lunacy, right?  So I’ve been driving down the street, being tailed by this stupid chick in a mammoth gray SUV.  It was like Jaws sneaking up behind you and then stalking you.  Uncool.  So I’m listening to Nuvi and I have to turn right onto this road and then turn right again.  Unfortunately, the road I need to turn onto is at a standstill because of a red light and the lane I need to be in is completely blocked.  So I get into the only lane I can access, the middle lane, and I put my turn signal on.  The absolute second that traffic starts to move and the lane starts to open up, I start to edge out into the right lane and that freaking SUV comes charging up from nowhere and cuts me off from my turn.

AGAIN!

Again I’m sitting, TURN SIGNAL ON, and the car behind me thinks that they can just cut me off.  Listen, if I could have gotten into the lane, wouldn’t I have just done it?  I’m not sitting there for my health.  I’m not sitting there to kill time or to act as YOUR blocker, and yet?  CUT OFF!

Admittedly, it’s been about 8 years since I’ve taken driver’s ed so I don’t know, maybe this is acceptable behavior now.  Maybe this is the cool new thing, maybe people are reverting to elementary school tactics and line-cutting.  Or, maybe, Philly drivers are just kind of jerky.

A post about pee, inspired by the one and only QOFE

So now that I’m finally getting back on my game (I shouldn’t type this b/c you KNOW that means I won’t be back for another month…whoops!) I have something I’ve been meaning to say and Crissy’s poll yesterday gave me the push to write it.

Peeing in the shower.

I have to say this is the grossest thing I can think of.  Peeing in the ocean?  Cool with me, just stand far away from me.  But a shower?  Aw hellllll no.

My shower routine has always been as follows:

• Enter bathroom
• Take off clothes
• Pee
• Get into shower

That 3rd step there?  Pee?  That one only takes 30 seconds!  So why are you skipping it?  Is it a timing issue?  Is it for the environment?  Skip the TP then, fine with me.  And you can always follow the “if it’s yellow, let it mellow” philosophy and save your pre-shower flush for later in the morning.  But please, for the love of all that is good and right and CLEAN in this world, don’t pee in the shower!!!

I’ve mentioned this before but I feel it bears repeating.  My junior year in college I lived with 4 other girls.  5 girs, 2 bathrooms.  And I was sharing a bathroom with the Monica Gellar of the apartment so I thought I was safe.  Then one day 2nd semester after one girl went off to her semester in Spain and I’d moved to the other bedroom/bathroom I found out that the clean freak had been peeing in the shower!!!  With NO warning to her fellow roommates!  How is that okay?!  Her “excuse” was that she did it while she was washing her hair and so the soap rinsed it out.

Oh, what, that’s not a problem for you?

Have you seen Ellen’s hair?

image via instyle.com

Or Sienna Miller’s?

image via instyle.com

Or perhaps Kate Gosselin’s ‘do?

image via instyle.com

Now do you see the issue?!  How much soap can hair like that use?!  There is no way shampooing a cut like that could produce enough suds to sufficiently rinse out pee!!  Especially from a college shower that never drains quite as quickly as it should.

I went through an entire semester getting into a pee-filled shower.  That was 4 months of pee-tainted showers.  And worse…baths.  *Shudders*  Are you kidding me?  You didn’t warn me that you were using my tub as a toilet?!  Oh noooo!  No no no no no!  That is sooooo not okay.

There are things I can see doing in the shower.  Brushing your teeth.  Combing your hair.  But answering nature’s call?  Noooo way.

You know–I’ll even give a pass to single people who aren’t sharing a bathroom.  If you can feel clean after your shower even though you just drained your tank in it, more power to you.  But the second you get a roommate, spouse, pet–cut it out!  Because seriously?

Ew.

Unemployment is a full time job

It’s been almost 3 months to the day that I left my job in the city.  I’ve spent most of that time fighting with the New York State Department of Labor.

Filing for unemployment is one of the biggest hassles on earth.  Oh not the actual question/answer filing part, it’s the aftermath that kills you.  After I filed for unemployment I was sitting pretty, waiting for the first day that I could call and claim my benefits.  During that waiting period I received a call from Albany asking me to clarify my address because they’d had mail returned to them.  They called to tell me this on October 23rd.  October 23rd. So for 20 minutes on my wedding day I sat on hold, waiting to correct my address so I could get my freaking unemployment, only to be cut off.  Juuuuust great.  I still called to claim my benefits (from my honeymoon in Key West no less) and figured I could sort everything out when I got home.

Back in my new apartment I had 3 letters from NY State.  2 questionnaires that needed to be returned w/in 7 days (despite the fact that one of the questionnaires actually said it needed to be returned w/in 21 days).  The return date?  October 23–the day Albany called to tell me they didn’t even have a correct address for me.  And the third letter?  Oh, that was the letter denying my benefits.  The determination: that I left my job “without good cause” even though I was now living over 100 miles from my previous place of employment.

So I spent a few weeks cussing out all things government related and sent in my request for a hearing.  So while I waited to hear about my hearing I kept calling each week to claim my benefits.  And then the letter came.  The letter that said that the Commissioner of Labor had withdrawn the determination in my case pending further fact finding and that should the contested determinations be reissued, a new hearing would be scheduled.

A new hearing?  I didn’t have an old hearing.  So what the hell?  Do I have benefits?  Do I have a hearing?  What the hell?

And then I was faced with the obnoxious task of calling the Dept. of Labor.  After typing in my social and my PIN, I spend minutes going round and round pressing 1 for English and 9 for the menu and 4 to ask a question and 3 to ask a question.  As I sit and listen and wait to press whatever number for whatever option I want I hear them say things like “if you have forgotten your PIN, please press 3″ and I wonder how in the hell those people managed to even get to that option.  And it doesn’t matter what the wait time is when you call.  Please hold, your wait time is approximately 20 minutes?  Great, you’ll sit for 20.  Please hold, your wait time is 5 minutes or less?  GREAT, you’ll still sit for 20.

So this morning, after going round and round and calling 3 different numbers this morning.  And I heard that the letter I had received wasn’t even on file.  And I heard that my claim AND hearing request were denied.  And then I heard that they can’t actually deny a hearing, simply delay it.  So I should be hearing about my hearing (and I apologize for the awkward phrasing there) in 4-5 weeks.  And in 4-5 weeks I could very well be employed.

But let me just say this.  There is no way that I’m missing out on the thousands of dollars I should have been getting from NY state.  Because seriously NY state?  You need to get your shit together.

Seriously?? We’re counting down the Christmas countdowns?! Stop the madness!

As a huge Gilmore Girls fan, I find myself on ABC Family at least once a day catching the reruns.  Unfortunately though, while I’m there, I’m subjected to ABC Family’s commercials.  Normally this wouldn’t be a problem.  They’d be promoting some stupid movie and as we all know, me likey the stupid movies.  But now–no such luck.

Currently on ABC Family they are advertising the Countdown to the 25 Days of Christmas.  Are you following me here?  They are counting down their own countdown.  And how are they celebrating this countdown to the countdown?  By showing Christmas movies.  They are debuting their NEW Christmas movies too, not just showing us last season’s crap (however I wouldn’t say “no” to an early showing of Holiday in Handcuffs.  Melissa Joan Hart, Mario Lopez and all the trashtastic movie features you could hope for in a made-for-TV holiday movie).

I am fully on board with the 25 Days of Christmas.  I happen to love the idea of 25 days of Christmas movies and shows.  If they would actually AIR Christmas specials (How the Grinch Stole Christmas, A Charlie Brown Christmas) instead of trying to pass off The Chronicles of Narnia and The Harry Potter movies as Christmas specials just because they have SNOW in them it would be even better, but still, I can’t complain too much.  I am all for the holly and the jolly.  I just prefer my holly and my jolly be seasonally timed.  As if I needed to tell you guys that.

I just cannot figure this out.  I am CONCERNED for the future generations.  This is clearly a phenomenon that is not ending anytime soon.  If you didn’t click on any of those links in the last paragraph, all you missed were my  previous posts on the subject.  2 years worth of gripings about Christmas displays 6 months too early and trees lit in living rooms while Trick-or-Treaters ring the doorbell.  But with the displays starting earlier and earlier each year, where does that leave us in a few years?  Will it just be socially acceptable to leave the lights up all year?  (Well…to be honest, I wouldn’t hate that–it would make life so much easier.  I mean, not for me because I’m not the one who would actually be hanging the lights, but I’m, um, looking out for Boo).  Will we be putting the lawn reindeer out in April or will that just confuse things during the Easter egg hunt?

Oh, wait, you know what?  I’m going to have to cut this short.  I just realized that we’re about 4 months away from Valentine’s Day so I should probably start counting down.

Don’t sit so close to me

This morning I came into work early.  I’m taking a half day to beat the Easter weekend traffic to CT and the earlier I come in, the earlier I’ll be out.

What did this mean for my commute?  It meant that the trains were on time–and practically empty.  It was awesome.  No one was even close to me.

Until 59th street that is.

A girl got on the train and sat RIGHT ON TOP OF ME.  I mean, there is an empty train car and she plopped right next to me (and my big suitcase) like it was a crowded rush hour train.

Don’t believe me?

don't mind the poor, unsuspecting kid at the end of the bench. i don't have blurring technology at work.

Do you SEE her proximity to my personal space?!  I kept wanting to ask her to just scooch down a bit, but you can’t really do that so I just sat there.  Sighing and giving her looks and being passive aggressive about the whole thing.  But honestly, creepy girl, WHAT is your deal?!

There is a concept known as “personal space”.

Learn it.

Embrace it.

Respect it.

What’s your deal CW/Pix 11?

Every Monday and Tuesday night Rachel and I park ourselves in our living to watch hour upon glorious hour of CW programming*.  We rush to make dinner before Gossip Girl starts and then we’re pretty much sedentary until we’ve seen the clips for next week’s One Tree Hill (though to be fair, Rachel is less invested in OTH than I am).

But this year the CW has decided to be, how shall I phrase this, sporadic at best with their scheduling.  We forgave them last year, given that everyone was striking about something but figured that programming would be back to normal this year.  Nay.  Gossip Girl took a longer winter break than I ever had in school.  But in January GG and OTH returned, with all new episodes, so I forgave the CW.

Until February, when they announced that after just 5 short weeks back they would be taking a 5 week break.  Really, CW, is that how we’re going to play it?  5 weeks on/5 weeks off?  Rachel and I were annoyed.  Again.  What were we to do without our weekly GG fix?  And for that matter, what were we supposed to read on Tuesday’s without our DailyIntel GG recaps?

I must admit, I was not happy about the scheduling.  But again, I was willing to let it go.  Until this Monday.  When it was announced that in THREE WEEKS we could see another new episode.  REALLY CW?!  REALLY?  You’ve been back for a measly 3 weeks and that’s it?  You’re taking another break?

As annoying as it that shows like Lost and 24 disappear for 8 months at a time, at least they don’t drag out the season like this.  Showing a few new episodes before jumping right back into reruns.  Even ABC family** runs like this.  A “season” can run from January to March, no repeats required and then take a few months off to return again, say, July to September.  That’s how MTV rolls.

As for our Tuesday nights, well, after it’s own lengthy hiatus, 90210 (which Rachel and I can’t honestly say we enjoy but still somehow managed to get sucked into) has returned.  For 8 weeks.  And they are announcing it like it’s some hugely innovative concept.  For 8 weeks, we’ll show you new episodes of a show.  You’re going to think this is awesome until you realize that all we’re really doing is finishing the season without airing any reruns.  Yeah, you didn’t realize that 8 weeks would take you to the end of May and that’ll end the season anyway, did you?  Ah hahahaha!***

The only redeeming quality that we’ve found on the CW in the past few weeks is the Pix 11 News at 10.  Which takes advantage of the commercial breaks to warn about the dangers of Smartie Smoking (that kid was our favorite).

So that’s it, CW.  I guess I’ll see you tonight for Top Model (since you’re not bothering me with reruns of that show–yet).  And I’ll bring my Smarties.

la

la

• It should also be noted that we do this on Wednesdays as well but since Top Model isn’t screwing around with the schedule, they get a free pass.  Additionally, we are parked pretty much every weeknight watching hour upon glorious hour of some station’s programming.
• *Yes, I’ll admit, Rachel and I DO have shows on ABC Family that we’ve been sucked into.  And I’m okay with that.  And do you know why?  Because now, when GG decides to take 5 weeks off, I have something else to fill that time slot.
• **I may have paraphrased that a bit.

NOTE: WordPress has suddenly decided not to let me make footnotes anymore and is instead turning my * into bullet points.  I don’t know why.

Some brief thoughts…

Not quite short enough for Twitter, not quite long enough to deserve a post of their own.

Brief thoughts on the Duggar’s:

I realize I’m the last person to talk about the infamous 17 kids and counting, wait, baby makes 18, family but I don’t care.  Roomie and I watched the show last night and we heard, well, some disturbing things.

A daughter (on the Duggar family hairstyle): Well, we all have long hair because my dad likes long hair. Does anyone else find this weird?  Like, ‘hey, why’d you buy that blue top?’ ‘oh, you know, ‘cuz my dad likes blue.’   Seems odd….

Another daughter (on changing the oil): I dripped oil on the camera but it wasn’t my fault.  It dripped because my father did not inform me that it was about to come. Okay, Rachel and I almost choked on lemonade and fell off the couch, respectively, when we heard that.  We were SHOCKED to hear that the editing crew let that one through.

A son: Jackson, stop it!  You made it splatter everywhere!  Again…what’s going on with the editing crew?

Rachel and I assumed that this crew hates that they got this show and since they are weirdly creeped out by the concept of a family that’s 9 times bigger than the average family, they are doing their best to make sure that the lines and footage they keep in really reflect the “crazy.”

Brief thoughts on the MTA/Albany:

New Yorkers are pissed.  And if they aren’t yet, they will be by March 25th.  Know why?  That’s the day that monthly unlimited MetroCard jumps, nay leaps, sky rockets even, from $81/month to $103/month.  That’s a $22 hike.  That is UNBELIEVABLE.  Like the signs say, for $103 there should be “a sauna, a pool and Pilates classes down there.”

Not only do I know have to shell out an extra $20 and change a month, I also have to have my route suffer.  AT LEAST once a week for the past 5 weeks I have gotten to 33rd street, a mere 2 stops away from my stop, only to hear the conducter make the dreaded announcement: “Attention all passengers, the next stop on this train will be 14th street.”

Do you know what happened to me today?  I heard that same freaking announcement.  I heard it after I battled to even make it to 33rd street w/o people yelling, pushing, shoving, and slamming in the face with their purses (I was INCHES from getting a bag to the nose).  And so I schlepped myself, my purse, and the 2 extra bags full of crap for work off the train.  Then I got shoved out of the way by a fat chick who couldn’t see that I had more bags than I could handle and figured that slamming her large ass into my little frame was the best way to act (a simple “excuse me” would have worked wonders).

I  high-tailed it to the other end of the tracks, hoping for better luck as I got away from the middle of the train.  No such luck.  I watched another over-crowded train, the 4th I’d seen that morning (including the few that passed us by at 96th and the one we finally shoved onto) shut its doors, me still on the outside.  After another few minutes I finally made it on to a train, where a businessman sat, unabashedly chewing his fingers and unnecessarily taking up 2 spots on the bench, and eventually got to 23rd street.

So I have this to say to you, MTA and Albany/the NY government: get your shit together.  Hurry the hell up with that 2nd avenue line.  STOP skipping stops during rush hour (which I know is something that I harp on nearly every time it happens…I swear, I’ll stop now!).  It’s really not doing anyone any favors.  In fact, it’s making things worse.

Oh, and if you see an angry mob led by a short girl with a mop of curly hair on her head–run.  Run far and run fast because that means I’ve finally snapped, assembled a mob of like-minded commuters (slash* bloggers), and the end result, well, it won’t be pretty.

Brief thoughts on spelling out punctuation marks*:

I have always said “slash” in conversation.  Don’t expect me to stop just b/c I have a blog and I’m working with the written/typed word and can just type a “/”.  It’s just not the same and every so often I like to type a good “slash.”

Design details, or, why hipsters shouldn’t be allowed to making clothing choices

Raw edges.

A design detail that, apparently, isn’t always recognized for what it is.

An artistic, aesthetic detail.

I was content to let this go.  I was going to drop it, roll with the punches, try to forget about it.  But I just can’t.

This past weekend my friend Rebecca, (aka my stylist, whose blog you should go check out and then pelt her with emails and comments so she gets back to it) graciously offered to go shopping w/me.  Sorry Rebecca, I’m about to seem ungrateful here (I’m not, I swear, I love shopping with you, please shop with me more!) but I need to bash some hipsters.

We went to Buffalo Exchange in my first trip to Brooklyn.  Okay, wait, hold on.  Stop LOOKING at me like that!  I’ve done Brooklyn before but it was always in the Elle car, running to and from the photographers or a photo shoot and carrying 30+ lbs of clothing.  This time we took the subway (we still had the excessive amounts of clothing).  When we walked into the hipster-populated store full of budding fashionistas and thrifters alike we were met with a line.  When we finally made it to the front, the girl at the register explained the process to me:

I’ll go through each item and investigate it for wear and tear, wearability, style, seasonal appropriateness, etc.

Translation: I’ll judge you on all of your fashion choices, eventually rejecting most of what you brought in, including things that you will later find replicas of already on our shelves/things that are in way better condition than things on our shelves, and I will somehow make you feel bad about yourself while I do it even though this is the closest I’ve gotten to brands like Marc Jacobs and Vera Wang and you and your friend worked with those brands extensively–oh, and we’ll give her $28 (which really means $19.60)  for dresses that retail at $500, which we didn’t actually know until we asked you.  (End rant–and run-on sentence).

As she pawed through my potential merch, she came across a tunic with a deep v-neck.  Something that, if you’ve walked around recently and seen, well, any females, you’d know is still quite “in” right now.  They are being paired with leggings, tights and jeans.  Boots and flats.  Short girls and tall girls.  Everyone is rocking the tunic.  Except that my tunic (worn just a few times since I purchased it) seemed to have one fatal flaw.

Hipster: Um, well, okay, so I’m not going to be taking this item because the sleeves appear to have been cut.

Me: They aren’t cut, they are raw edges.  That’s a style detail.  I bought it that way.

Hipster (investigating the garment again): Hm, well, yeah, it just looks badly hand cut to me, and that’s how our customer will see it too.

Me (seething): FINE.

I was irritated to say the least.  Not only had this little “fashionista” wannabe insulted my taste in clothes, she’d also implied that I was lying about cutting the sleeves off my shirt AND that I had done so with shoddy craftsmanship.  ARE YOU FREAKING FOR REAL?!

I was set to just sort of brush the experience off as a, “well, now I can say I’ve been to Brooklyn.  And I’ve mingled with the hip kids.  And now people will stop trying to make me go back.” (NOTE: I have nothing against Brooklyn.  I know lots of cool people in Brooklyn.  My aversion, if you could call it that, to Brooklyn is simply that it’s far.  I have to change trains and I’m on the train for at least 40 minutes.  And it’s not a set up like a grid.  And I don’t do well without grids.  That’s why I have trouble with the Villages, both East and West.  And those are basically the same reasons that I lived less than 30 minutes away from downtown Pittsburgh for YEARS and never really ventured into the city).

So, like I was saying, I was about to just forget the whole thing but then a strange thing happened to me at work the other day.  I was going over styles from our new line and I saw raw edges.  On men’s styles, on women’s styles, on sleeves, plackets, and hems.  And it struck me as odd that the same detail that deemed my otherwise still “trendy” garment COMPLETELY UNSELLABLE was the same detail making an appearance on not some, but many, of our current pieces.  As well as (I realized as I thought back on it) many of our past season’s styles.

So I would like to just break it down for you, just point out, if you will, the item rejections that I disagreed with.

Items rejected simply b/c the cashier/”buyer” didn’t immediately consider them items she herself would wear, without regards to their actual retail value:

• Sweet Pea top (retails at Nordstrom for $96)
• 2 California boutique tops (retail is approximately $78)
• 1 Audrey Hepburn top
• 1 Barbie studded top (Barbie is back.  She had a show at fashion week.  And her line of self-merch is expensive!)
• 1 tank dress (retail in CA in the mid-50s to mid-60s…oh, and “faded” is a washing technique.  Just so you know.)

Items rejected b/c their styling details didn’t fit this particular hipster’s aesthetic (yet which are details that are seen in upcoming lines (as well as past lines) of a certain company with which I am fairly familiar):

• 1 dress w/satin sleeves–it was though that the sleeves would pose a problem for the customer…if that’s the case, that customer shouldn’t check out our new line.
• 1 tunic w/raw edge sleeves–moments later I found a wool top that was totally unraveling, causing me to wonder about who was working register THAT day.

Also, discovered: a leather jacket that was more destroyed than distressed.  Paint/ink stains and holes where the “leather” is scratched away to reveal the lining underneath are apparently in more wearable condition than my sweater that barely needed the sweater shaver on it (oh, and by the way, some yarns have a more fuzzy look–they are called mohair).

So that was my hipster experience.  Do I want to go back?  Not necessarily.  Will that stop me from buying shirts with raw edges, sweaters that are fuzzy and therefore cozy, or boutiquey graphic tees?  Not a chance.  I just know that when I’ve finally gotten all the use I can get out of them they’ll be going to the Salvation Army instead.

We’ve got singers! Or, my sort of live blog from the train Sunday night*

When you get on a train it’s always a crap shoot–who will you end up next to?  Will it be some creepy fat guy who basically sits on you?

That is a TOTAL line cross

Note how dude fell asleep...angled...toward me...ick.

Or will it be a fratty group of dudes who are overly impressed with themselves?

Or will you like, totally luck out and get the girls who, like, totally think they are in a band.

Oh what if we try this arrangement instead?

I can’t go that high, can we bring it down an octave?

You don’t even have to try any longer…to make me want to kill myself–AND YOU!

Why?  Why could it possibly be necessary to practice on a crowded Metro North train? As soon as I realized who I was stuck behind–the cover band from hell–I looked to the guy next to me to try and get a sympathy eye roll.  I wanted to ask them, “excuse me will you be doing this for the whole trip? If so I’ll put my headphones on.” I don’t really want to hear you sing the same 3 lines over and over for the next 2 hours. I mean,  I just can’t take it. It’s bad enough that the dude behind me has managed to somehow get his feet almost in my lap but if I have to listen to the Doublemint twins in front of me jamming to the same bad Corinne Bailey Rae song the whole way, I’ll freaking lose it.

Damn.  The dude next to me is bouncing at Fairfield.  I’m losing all backup! At least he seems equally annoyed so I know it’s not just me. They haven’t made it further than one verse and they’ve spent most of their time on the same 4 lines:

I thought that I was stronger
When you gonna realise, that you don’t even have to try any longer?
Do what you want to.
Girl, put your records on, tell me your favourite song

Oh here we go; to make matters worse I am in the bathroom car AND I am facing the backwards car and a creepy middle aged man is making this weird pursed duck lips face at me.  Sir…that’s gross.  Please stop. I’m not looking at you,  you just happen to be in my line of vision. Now at least I can chat with Blondie who looks like my ex and my neighbor had a baby–weird–but he’s out soon and then I lose my backup.  And my buffer zone–that’s even worse. Knowing my luck on this train I’ll get an even weirder seatmate which I just can’t risk.  But how to make it look like someone’s here? Put my bag down and hope for the best I guess.

Oh this should be good.  A girl just got on the train and busted up their little practice nook.  It’s quiet.  But for how long?  What’s this?  THEY ARE STILL SINGING!  Ah, and this is fun–one of them is chewing gum. Now I stopped singing years ago but I do remember that gum is a no-no whilst doing one’s scales.  You don’t think Shower Singer is chomping away when he belts out his arias do you?

I can’t believe this–35 minutes on one verse. And it’s not even your own song– someone has already worked out the key changes and the beat and, oh yeah, THE WORDS so what about this is so hard for you?!  Could it be the acoustics on the train? Yeah I bet it could.  That’s why trains are generally no singing zones!!   Augh!

I wonder if they’ll take requests.  Maybe a little Beyonce or some Brit Brit? All my singles ladies, now put your hands up, you, you you are a womanizer!

Fortunately Milli and Vanilli got off the train at Stamford.  Ah…some peace and quiet–finally.  Unfortunately the train has slowed and now stopped and lost all power just outside New Rochelle.  At least they aren’t here to serenade us in the dark.

la

*Yes, I did actually spend my trip typing this post out and no, they never made it past that one verse and yes, the girl who sat through their rehearsal deserved a medal by the end of the night b/c just before Harlem some guy fell over and crushed her box of Special K–don’t feel bad for him, he lost his balance and tried to blame a leg cramp so he wouldn’t look quite so goofy.

I got stunk up

This morning, as Rachel and I were walking to the train, we heard the AMNY lady shouting about the day’s headlines:

AM! AM! READ ABOUT THE HOMELESS!

Not exactly the best way to sell a paper (yes I know it’s free, but that’s an expression so back off!).

I said as much to Rachel and she just shrugged her shoulders.

“Meh, they aren’t a problem.”

Not a problem?!  How are they not a problem?  When they stink and panhandle and creep me out and lay face down on the sidewalks with no pants (I really saw that) and take up whole benches on the train during rush hour and–

She clarified.  Not a problem for her.

Well, that’s fair I suppose.  I was content to let it go after that.

Then we got to 42nd street and Rachel got off the train.  And in her place came one of the most offensive homeless people I’ve ever encountered.  He stumbled on the train, his pants, well, I can’t even describe them because I’d prefer to keep a readership–let’s just say that the open fly was the least of his worries.

He was stumbling and swinging his arms at purse level.  I thought for a minute that he might be pickpocketing people.   You know, gross them out with his stink while he reaches into their purses and pulls out their wallets.

People began scrambling away from him.  The poor women who he chose to stop in front of couldn’t get up fast enough.  Then he took a seat.  Sort of.  He kind of crawled on to the bench, causing the woman to my right to move basically onto my lap.  I let her.  And trust me, that is the ONLY time that that is ever OK behavior.  I couldn’t take the stink anymore so I got up and moved to the end of the car.  Everyone around me followed suit.

The next thing we knew this guy was sprawled out on the bench.  No easier way to clear a subway car I suppose.

At 28th street I was happy to breathe in the fresh air when the doors opened.  Yeah, you read that right.  I just called stanky subway station air “fresh.”  Does that paint a picture yet?

I was so happy to rush out of the car at 23rd and I took huge breaths the entire walk to work.

But, as I sit here, I’ve noticed something upsetting.

I got stunk up!

I’ve sniffed my hair, my coat, my hoodie–everything.  And I can’t figure out where it’s coming from.  But I can still smell the stink of that dude.  It’s been burned into my nostrils.

And that, dear readers, is a problem.

But look on the bright side, I’ve saved you all the trouble of picking up an AMNY to read about it.