My Travel Trip From Hell: The Trip Home

It started normal. It was a beautiful day in Denver - the men there are super attractive. So thank you, men of Denver, for the wonderful view.

The conference ended early, we strolled the 16th Street Mall. Got close to the state capitol. It has a gold top:


We called a shuttle service to take us to the airport. We got there a little early, check my luggage - assign our seats so that we're next to each other - with an aisle separating us. Both get aisle seats, score!

It's a crowded plane, a lot of uptight people going back to DC. Just like I could tell New Yorkers/Northern New Jersey-ers from the bags under their eyes... You could tell a DC-er by how uptight and annoying they look.

We board - on time. We even LEAVE on time. And let the torture begin:

In front of a me was a woman w/ a large bottom, a mother and her 2.5 year-old and an infant on her lap. The infant cried, often. But it was usually just a wimper, that could be forgiven by upping the volume on my DirecTV I got for free. (score.)

Then? I smelled poop. Her other daughter needed to change her diaper. So the mom, brilliantly leaves her infant with the scary unknown lady with the large bottom. What we heard next could be equivalent to this:



Yeah... that sounds about right. Lady with the large bottom would get in this poor infant's face with baby talk. She didn't want your baby talk, lady - she wanted her mom... who decided it would be ok to leave her scared child with an unknown crazy. Nice work mom. Flight attendant to the rescue - after reading her the instructions on how to properly dispose of a diaper at 35,000 feet, the flight attendant snatches the screeching infant and shows her where her mom is. This quiets it a little bit. That ordeal took about 7 minutes of my sanity.

Our flight is supposed to last 3 hours and 2 minutes. 2.5 hours into our trip home, we are flying over Ohio and Virginia. The captain gets on the loud speaker:

"Folks, this is your captain speaking. We just got word from Air Traffic Control that there are some pretty bad thunderstorms in the DC area right now, and we can't land. So, we're gonna circle around here for a bit and hopefully get us down on the ground about 30 minutes later than expected. Sorry for the delay; we'll keep you posted."

I look over at my friend and say this: "We don't have the fuel to circle around to long, hope we can land soon." Planes aren't like cars - you don't fill 'er up. You put just enough fuel to get you from point A to point B.. otherwise - it's not efficient, or something.

Sniff, sniff... great. The kid shit her pants again:



That was another 5-10 minutes of my sanity. So we're up in the air circling... Sweet, at least I can watch So You Think You Can Dance while I'm waiting to land. FYI, we were supposed to arrive in DC at 9:50. We're getting close to 9:45 and the captain gets on again:

"Heeeey folks, it's your captain again. We seem to be running out of fuel. So, we're close to the Akron/Canton Airport. They've given us clearance to land. We're gonna get some fuel, and then hopefully we'll get clearance from Air Traffic Control to land in DC. Hopefully we can get you guys into DC by 11:50"

Fuck. Really? I called this. It's time for a drink. I ask the flight attendant if they'll be coming around with the cart on our way back to DC. I get an affirmative, and tell her that I'll be looking forward to purchasing an insanely expensive beer from her. She found that amusing.

We land in Akron. We're down there for about 30 minutes. Refuel, get paperwork done, back up in the air. Pure efficiency on the behalf of Frontier Airlines. I can definitely say that this the way home was NOT their fault. Except for this suckage from the flight attendant:

"Ladies and gentleman, the captain has informed us that we will be able to immediately land in DC. As a result, our current flight will last only 42 minutes. With such a short flight, we will not be able to come around with the full beverage cart. We will be coming around with some bottled water instead."

Are you kidding me?! Sorry, sweetheart, but water is no substitution for my need of beer at this point. Thankfully, the kids are sleeping at this point. I'm now watching Team USA get pummelled by Costa Rica.

It's 12am, we land. We bolt off the plane, only to hurry up and wait for our baggage. That took quite some time. I guess we waited for a half an hour. 12:30... the Metro has stopped running. I missed the last Yellow line train by like, 4 minutes. That's fine. I'll just take a cab, yeah? This is what we walked out to:



That's 100+ people waiting for taxis. After waiting for 30 minutes and the line not moving, we realize a brilliant idea of calling a cab company. I called the Red Top Cab Company. They will have a cab for me in 10 minutes (it's 1am), and yes, they would be pleased to take my credit card. Sweet. I'm on my way home.

It's 1:15. About five Red Top cabs have now driven past me. One finally pulls up, "You need a cab?"

Side note: No. I don't need a cab. It's clearly a pastime of mine to hang out outside of airports at 1 in the morning. Asshole.

"Yes," I reply. "I called your company 20 minutes ago."

"Hmph," she says, "You and like 70 other people... Where you going?"

"Alexandria."

"Oh no... I won't go there. I'll take Arlington." Well, CLEARLY she'll go to Arlington, since it's a longer ride, ergo a larger fare. Of course. She then tells the woman that is going to Arlington that she refuses to take credit cards (you know, since there's a fee associated with credit card payments). This is completely false - because I specifically asked the Red Top Cab Company that same question when I called.

So, I called the Red Top Cab Company again to ask where my car was. While on the phone I told them the story of what just happened. If you are wondering - almost three weeks later, I still remember the number of that lady's cab: 83. Her cab was number 83. I reported her. I'm sure there were no repurcussions for her actions, but it still felt better to tattle.

Finally, another Red Top cab drives by and stops. It is now 1:45. I don't ask questions anymore:

"You're a Red Top cab. I called for one. You're taking me home."

"Where are you going?" He asks.

"Alexandria,"I tell him. In return I get a huge sigh.

"Can't you find anyone else to come with you?"

"I am not going to fucking round up a crew. I've been waiting here for 45 minutes since I called and you're driving me home." I was angry. I was yelling. The man standing next to me thought I was going to get violent. I cursed at the cabbie. I was supposed to be home 4 hours ago. In times of desperation, the Jersey comes out.

At this point, I'm rambling... complaining about the woman that refused to drive me home and everything else up to this point. He grabs my bag and reluctantly puts it in the back of the car.

"You're going to take my credit card, right?" I ask.

Another sigh, "Don't you have any cash?"

"No, I don't have any fucking cash. I will tip you just fine to make this worth your while. And just think, in the time it would take you for one fare to Arlington, you can drive me home and come back for another fare." I totally understand that this guy needs to make money. But I need to get home.

During the ride home, I apologize for my actions and explain to him the travel trip from hell. He was rather understanding, and we had a pleasant conversation on the trip to my apartment.

At 2:05am, my travel trip from hell ended. I sent my boss an email explaining that I would be taking sick leave that day. I also told him that I didn't feel like traveling for a little while - like a year. Read more...

I Need to Move.

I've disliked my apartment complex for quite sometime. While it is not a slum, and I do have a roof over my head, it is by far the worst place (and most expensive) that I've ever lived in. The apartment itself is spacious - and have only had one major problem that was fixed very quick, but some of our neighbors in the complex are questionable at best.

I feel like I have already mentioned the 13+ burglaries in the complex. So there's that. In addition to the apartment burglaries, there have been numerous attempts on people's vehicles - both simple vandilization and burglary. So that's old hat. Let's now discuss the weekend.

I decided to catch up on laundry. I'm a lazy housewife, and tend to do a number of loads of laundry at a time. We have a laundry room facility. There are a lot of washing machines and dryers. I took two machines in the corner - near no one else and do my laundry. I left my detergent and liquid fabric softener there since I was going to be doing more laundry. Much to my surprise, when I came downstairs to move my clothes to the dryers - my special pet detergent (gets out pet odor and whatnot) and liquid fabric softener were gone! Oh... but they were nice enough to leave my regular detergent... that was basically empty. That's sweet. I go upstairs to make sure that I didn't forget that I had brought it upstairs - nope. It's been stolen. What do I do? I post this up:
I don't know if I used "whomever" correctly, but you get the point. Nobody brought my detergent back. I'm pretty miffed about this - simply because I have to order that Nature's Miracle online, as they do not sell it at the PetSmart/Petcos in the area anymore. Who the hell steals detergent? I guess it's just a sign of the economic times. Oh yeah... somebody tore down my sign the following day. I will put another one up today. Right next to the "The Management is not responsible for items lost or stolen in the laundry facility" sign.

In the past, we've had incidences of obnoxious drunkards in the complex. Including a woman screaming racially fueled obscenities at the people down in the parking lot, skinny dippers in the pool... and just loud people. Loud drunks I have no problem with. I'm one myself - especially during a football game. Other background to the story - we have a beautiful magnolia tree right next to our patio. Here's a nice shot of last year when it was in bloom:
It's a beautiful tree, especially around this time of the year. The flowers start blooming - they're huge flowers and are nice to look at. Except now - this is in the tree now:
Those are boxers. Hanging in the beautiful magnolia tree. They've been there since Friday, at least. Nobody will get them down. I wonder if I call maintenance, they'll get it.

These were the humorous experiences, that I can look back and laugh at. Hell, I can still stare at the boxers and laugh at them while on my patio - which I cleaned this weekend, yes! The following story bothers me, so it'll be quick.

We have a pigeon problem. There are a lot of them. We're not supposed to feed them - clearly. But they're still around. Walking out to our car, we saw an injured pigeon hanging out by the front of our building. Amid the process of calling animal control, and the wildlife rescue league - we hear *THUD* and see another pigeon fall from the sky. The thud made it sound like a bird hitting a really clean window - but this is impossible for 2 reasons:

1. Nobody's windows are THAT clean in our building.
2. If they were to fly into a sliding glass door, they would have landed on the patio - not fall down to the ground.

So basically, somebody was throwing shit at the pigeons and injuring them, and then just leaving them there to suffer.

Long story short, we rescued the pigeons and left them with a wildlife rehabilitator. I'm going to call her tomorrow to make sure they are ok. I'm glad I made an attempt to rescue them. We called maintenance and management. Both said that it wasn't their responsibility to take care of injured birds. I don't like seeing any animal suffer - even if it is a pigeon. So we saved it.

Needless to say, we need to move. The place we found is beautiful. Our lease application is in - and it has now been forwarded to the owner/landlord. Keep your fingers crossed. I should find out in the next few days. Read more...

I Hate the Elevator People

Whoever may be upon high has something in for me every time I ride the elevator. It's like they know that I can't handle the one-floor rider. And as Doug has recently mentioned, I always have run-ins with 2nd floor elevator takers. This is evidenced by my experience yesterday:

My ride up to my cube (6th floor): The same lady that said "Have a nice day everyone" and took the elevator to the second floor got on the elevator. I still won't respond to her. So that was a person taking the elevator to the second floor on my way to work. Thanks.

My ride DOWN from my cube to the gym: From the 6th floor, we stop at the 5th and people get on. Then we stop at the 4th, and then the 2nd. Some guy seriously got on at the 2nd floor to go down to the first. Wait. Let's talk about this. Some guy has gotten onto our elevator at the second floor to go down to the first floor. So some guy, with more balls than me says,

"Well, at least someone got an express ride down to the first floor."

And that was funny.

My ride up from the gym: Yes, somebody else took the elevator to the second floor. And it was at this point I have begun to realize that someone upon high has it out for me.

My boss understands my problem, and each morning he asks if I had to ride the elevator with someone who takes it to the second floor. And almost every morning I have to say yes! So he brought up a solution:

Take the stairs.

So do I start walking up 6 flights of stairs to avoid the mess that is a 1-floor elevator taker? What are your thoughts? Read more...

A Friendly Letter to My Neighbors

Dear Neighbors,

Some days, our hallway smells like rotten garbage. I have to run into my apartment to get away from the stench. Please throw your garbage out, so our hallway doesn't stink. Simply lighting incense may mask the smell for a while, but I'd rather just a stink-free hallway instead of a hemp shop hallway. Thank you.

Neighbors down the hall: your child runs with very heavy feet. Right past our door. We hear it each and every time. As a result we have resorted to yelling "FALL" every time she runs past. Because clearly, the only way she will learn not to run is by falling - because you won't tell her not to.

Neighbor who lives on the second floor: I see you exercise... well, I see you walking around our apartment complex. You like to walk. I've seen it. So tell me why you insist on taking the elevator up one flight of stairs... after you've been walking! If you're so into walking around, walk yourself up the one flight of stairs!

And a general message to all my neighbors: I can still see you walk past me even if you dart your eyes to the ground. You're still there. And I will try to make eye contact and say hi to you. You may as well just accept it.

Thanks and have a great week,

Me. Read more...

Why I Need My Vacation

In 14 days and oh... I guess 10 hours... Husband and I will be going on vacation. We have a beach "house" (more like an efficiency) for a week. I'm beginning to realize that this vacation will not only be a luxury - this vacation is a necessity. Why a necessity?

Have you ever felt that you were teetering on the edge of sanity? I felt that yesterday on the train ride home.

After a 10 hour day, I just want quiet on the train ride home. You would like to believe that most commuters on the train have just finished a long day and would like to be quiet also. But no. There's always that one person. And that one person yesterday, was conveniently sitting right next to me.

When riding the metro underground, the only cell phone provider that has service is Verizon - conveniently, this bitch had Verizon. Phone rings, LOUD.

"HALLO?!"

It has begun. This woman kept yapping for a good five minutes. YAP YAP YAP YAP like a fucking Shih Tzu in your ear. But then she hung up. It was nice and quiet. I was enjoying my crossword (which was tough yesterday!) and my music. But then it happens again.

"HALLO?!"

Are ya fuckin' kidding me?! There's a good 15 minutes left on this train ride. YAP YAP YAP YAP. Bitch wouldn't shut up. My blood was beginning to boil. People on the train were giving her the glances, but apparently, she was completely oblivious to the social cues! I've turned my head to look at her a number of times as well, but I just can't bring myself to say anything. But it gets worse...

Two stops away from being home free, this guy gets on. He is listening to some obnoxious rap song, on his cell phone for the entire train to hear. And where does he sit? Oh yeah... to the other side of me. So on one side I have this asshole's music and on the other I've got the yapping of a Shih Tzu. I had to close my eyes and go to a happy place... try to find my happy face.

As my eyes were closed, I pictured myself ripping the cell phone from that woman's hands, throwing it down on the ground and stomping on it. Then, I visioned punching the music man straight in the face. It's not often that I have violent visions like that.

Had the train continued for maybe another 5 minutes, I probably would have reacted in a negative manner towards that woman (thankfully, the rap star had exited the train already). Teetering on this edge can't be healthy for me - which is why this vacation is a necessity. I am afraid for the person the pushes my button way too hard - and not in a good button-pushing way.

So I've rambled quite a bit on this one, but I needed to get this off my chest.

May you all have an annoying-free weekend. I have already started mine.

Read more...

Another Ridiculous Gym Experience

Friday was my long cardio day. No matter what, I was going to spend 45 minutes on the treadmill. When I get on my treadmill, the gym isn't too crowded. The treadmill to my right was empty, and to my left, an older gentleman jogging.

I get on, and about two minutes in, I start smelling something wrong. That's when I realize that the big fan is blowing at me, in turn, blowing the older gentleman's body odor right at my nose. Nice.

So at least once a minute, this guy's stink wafts up towards my nose. At this point, I still have 40 minutes left. I continue to try and breathe through my mouth as much as possible.

As I continue to run (it's really more like a jog), someone gets on the treadmill to the right of me. Oh no, it's this lady.

Who is this lady? Well, she's the lady that works too hard. She gets on, and for the first minute she walks at about 3.8, and all of a sudden - she goes up to 9.0 miles per hour. I'm sorry, but how do you expect to maintain that speed? Here's how:

• Stomp your feet and run on your own for about 20 seconds. After that, brace yourself and lean all your weight on the treadmill as your feet swing through.
• After about two minutes of this process, slow back down to a brisk walk for about one minute.
• Continue this pattern for about 20 minutes.

You have to see this woman. She is honestly a spectacle. From her weird purple tank top and her green shorts, to the way she slams her feet down on the treadmill. Just chill out, lady. I'm sure if you ran at like, a 6.5, you wouldn't be leaning and your workout should be just as good.

OK. I only have 15 minutes left. I feel like I've finally adjusted to the stink. And then stink man finishes his workout! This is great. I glance over at his treadmill after he left - nice... Sweat drops are all over the machine. Delish!

And if my luck couldn't get any better, working-too-hard lady finishes her workout too! Yes!!

And now, I have five more minutes left with just me, my music, and the treadmill.

I successfully completed 45 minutes with a few distractions in the process. And then? I went home and took a two hour nap. Read more...

Elevators

There is really nothing that makes me angrier than an able-bodied person taking the elevator from the first to the second floor - or taking the elevator for a one-story trip in general.

The other day, this occurred twice. It's bad enough when it happens once, but twice? To top it off, the first instance occurred on my way in to work:

The elevator opens, and four of us walk in. The floors pushed: 4, 6, 7, 8. As the doors are closing, a woman yells to hold the elevator. Somebody is nice enough to hold it open. The woman hustles her way in, and proceeds to press... wait for it... the second floor button.

I'm sorry, but what the hell is wrong with you?! We just held the door open for you - you hustled your way in here... and then you press the button for the second floor?! No. I cannot stand for that. And look, you could have used that little bit of energy you wasted asking us to hold the elevator and trot your way in here to hike your ass one flight of stairs.

Either, way.. I was setting up a little of this in my ears for the ride:



But let it be known that I was totally giving her a dirty look.

So, the second floor arrives. Woman has the balls to say, "Have a nice day!"

Here are some repercussions you'll have to face if I am on the elevator and you take a ride for one floor:

• You will receive dirty looks from me.
• I will not like you.
• If I know you, I will give you shit for it.
• I will not acknowledge you for saying "Have a nice day". It doesn't make up for the fact that you have just taken the elevator up one floor.

So that's it. If you're an able-bodied individual, don't ride the elevator up/down one floor. I won't like you. But here's a quick disclaimer: If you have a lot of stuff in your hands, I may let things slide. Read more...

My Evening: A Four Act Play

Most of this was written yesterday, the evening occurred two nights ago, now. It's a long play, for my favorite part, skip to Act 4. But I definitely had an interesting evening the other night.

Act 1. The First Train

It was a balmy 70 degrees when I left work. I caught my usual train in my usual spot. At the usual stop, I expect to see trench coat man. As expected, TM arrives in his usual spot - without his trench coat!! Donned in a 3-piece suit and his Carmen San Diego hat, TM carried his suitcoat and fanned his face with his hat. Oh, TM, how are you going to survive the summer?! Doug, May was way off as a guess. It should be noted, that he was without leather gloves the prior day.

Act 2. The Second Train

The second train, as usual, was a little more crowded. But I managed to find a seat behind 3 loud "suits". One suit was standing, holding onto the rail behind my head. Clearly, having no regard for the notion of personal space, he moved freely along with the movement of his conversation - all the while, I was moving to avoid his flying elbow.

During my game of Dodge Elbow with the suit, there's a man in the seats next to me. An odd fellow, he sat on the outside seat, preventing anyone else from taking the spare seat. Side note: I hate that. So my coworker and I continue our conversation, and all of a sudden we hear a very distinct fart sound. We stop talking - I glance over - and odd fellow is wringing his hands making fart sounds... Seriously? I start laughing. I make eye contact with the guy standing between me and odd fellow, and he starts laughing. And then? Odd fellow makes the fart noise, again!

Act 3. The Shuttle

The shuttle is usually nice and quiet. People are usually courteous with their phone calls, but I've never really heard anyone's music from their ear phones. Until yesterday. First you hear the hi-hats and the claps - but then, the combo of the shuttle being to quiet and the music being so loud, I hear the whole song:

Now - I can usually handle that song in moderation, but when you hear it through someone else's earphones, you can't hear words - just the repetitive melody - and that's rough. The song ends... thank God. Wait - you're playing it again?! That bitch was on repeat. When we get to my building, I finally get to walk past the source of my torture - and it's a DiscMan! So you're telling me, you're ok with paying around $1,700/month for rent in the "special" building, but you're still rocking the DiscMan?? Wow.

h/t to tecmo for the comic strip generator

Act 4. Dinner

The husband and I decide to go out for dinner. As we're enjoying our dinner, another couple gets sat at the booth behind us. Now, my back is to them so I can't see them. But I can definitely hear... We continue enjoying our meal and conversation until we hear this from the girl:

"How fat did you think I was??"

Now let's pause for discussion:
I think we all know that there is no right answer to this question. If you say, "Well, not really fat,"
You'll get, "Oh, so you did think I was fat."
And if you say, "Oh, not fat at all,"
You'll get, "You're a fucking liar!"

Personally, if I were the guy, I have two options:
1) Back-pedal, then spin. Re-phrase what you had previously said to make her ask that in the first place. But that leaves room for the question to be asked again. I prefer option 2.
2) Get the fuck out. Leave. If she's asking it now - who knows what else the crazy bitch might ask. It's not worth your sanity.

Unfortunately, I didn't hear how he responded, but I did get to check this spectacle out on our way out the door. Now, I don't know how fat she was, but I she was currently carrying a couple of extra pounds on her. And her FP was at a very high level. We laughed about this the whole way home.

Small story to end the night - As we're walking to the car, we notice this couple in a very intense conversation. As the man leaves to his car, the girl goes into the car one over from us and proceeds to cry. Maybe she asked the same question and he said, "Well, pretty fat, actually."

Read more...

A Letter to the Annoying Fishwife on the Train Last Week

Dear Annoying Fishwife on the Train last week:
I have understood from your conversations that you are upper management. You appear to be an important woman, I get it. You're important. Although you're an important person at work, you are just an irrelevant cog in the wheel of commuters when you leave your office. Here are some things that the other cogs don't care to hear:

• Your husband's ACL replacement - and his love of golf.
• The meeting you had to have with "those lower level people".
• The fact that you don't like your husband to like golf.

The people you were with seemed to understand the concept of six-inch voices - because I could only hear your part of the conversations.

Look, maybe you caught me on a bad day - No. You didn't. You were loud, annoying, abrasive, condescending, and just downright awful. If you're such an important person, and want to feel so important - drive yourself to work. Don't bother us "lower level people" with your annoying important person drivel.

Thanks!
Me. Read more...

Karmic Justice

A type of person that kind of bugs me is the person that takes the elevator one floor up/down. This type of person bothers everyone that I know. It's not rare. But yesterday, I experienced a sort of karmic justice that made my day.

Getting on the elevators at work, we need to scan our badges to get up to the floors above the ground level. So yesterday after my lunch hour, I get onto the elevator with a nice lady, we scan our badges and we're both going to the same floor (yay!). As the doors are closing, this man runs into the closing elevator. As the doors are closing, he scans his badge and tries to press 2. But he can't! Because we're already past the second floor! A-HA! You can't go there, buddy! You have to ride up 6 floors with us, and then ride down to the second floor. Kinda makes you re-think skipping the stairs, huh buddy?

That little experience made my day. I walked off the elevator smiling. Read more...

Tech Support

I begin this with an admission - Yes, I was stupid enough to believe the guy. There. I said it. Now on with the story.

Our laptop crashed. System 32 error or whatever - all I know is that I just need an XP recovery cd and my problems "should" go away. But, our laptop didn't come with a recovery cd, so we were going to have to buy one. I knew that I would need a certificate of authenticity (or some product number) in order to use the recovery cd I was to purchase.

My goal of calling tech support was where to find this number.

Keep that in mind as I continue this story.

Tech Support (TS): Thanks for calling... blah blah.
Me: Hi, I have a question for you. *Repeat story above*. Is my COA found on the bottom of my laptop?
TS: Oh. You don't want to do that by yourself. You should speak to one of our technical specialists.
Me: No no, I know what to do, I just need to know where I get this COA number.
TS: Oh, but our technical specialists can remote access your computer and fix it for you - then you won't have to buy the cd.
Me: But how? I can't even get Windows to start.
TS: All they need is an internet connection.
....
Me: Ok, let's do this. What if they can't fix it? Will I be refunded?
TS: Oh, sure!

I think you know where this is going. That first conversation is an abridged version. The original took about 25 minutes.

After this, I was on hold for about 10 minutes. The technical specialist then came on. She was very friendly. I explained the the situation, and the conversation I had just had. I explained what TS had just offered me.

Me: So, can you fix it?
Technical Specialist (TSp): Uhh, no. You can't get to your desktop.
Me: I know, I told him that. He said that was alright.
TSp: Well, no. If you can't get to your desktop, we can't access your computer.
Me: That's what I thought. So, do I get my money back?
TSp: No.
Me: Why not? You didn't fix anything.
TSp: We told you what was wrong with your computer, and how to fix it.
Me: No you didn't. I knew that before I called you. All I wanted to know was where to find my CoA. So, the guy I spoke to earlier, does he know anything about computers?
TSp: *chuckles* It doesn't appear that way.

Wrapping this up: I spoke to the supervisor. My money was refunded, and I got a free XP Recovery cd that should have been in the mailbox yesterday (alas, it wasn't).

I think I know what the CoA number is. We'll see though. Read more...

Musings from the Metro Notebook: I'll Smack a B.

To the obnoxious man (woman?) who yelled at me on the yellow line last night:

1. I am not a "bitch".
2. I was trying to let you and your 80 Target bags off of the crowded train. But what your self-absorbed mind didn't realize was that there were other people trying to get off of the train, too.
3. I was going to take your seat, yes. But please review #2.
4. You and your 80 Target bags were taking up two seats when over 20 people were standing in the train.
5. I could have learned the words to your shitty Beyonce song that you were listening to so loud.
6. Say it to my face next time. I will smack a bitch.
   

Read more...

Musings from the Metro Notebook: People that Kind of Bug Me

Slow, Diagonal Walkers

If you've walked in crowded places, you've experienced the slow, diagonal walker.

Just like on a multi-lane highway: If the person in front of you is walking too slow, you wait until there is psace, move aside, and pass the slow walker.

But wait.

You can't. After you've moved aside, the slow walker is still in front of you somehow! You've just encountered a slow, diagonal walker.

Now don't think the slow, diagonal walker can't morph:

The slow, diagonal walker notices that the train is coming soon. The slow, diagonal walker begins to pick up the pace and has now morphed into the Diagonal Walker: Quick, but just as bothersome.

You both pick up speed and approach the turn styles. Again, similar to cars approaching toll booths, when you two are almost parallel, you stay in your lane and continue to approach the turn style in front of you - assuming that the diagonal walker will go to the one in front of them since both are available.

But wait.

The newly morphed diagonal walker has diagonally crossed in front of you and took your turn style!

And that is why slow, diagonal walkers kind of bug me. Read more...

Signs You Probably Shouldn't Redesign A Website

Image courtesy of crazy-picsblog

• You say, "Oh.. I don't like to read things on the internet."
• Or, "How do you undo something that you didn't want to type?"
• Or, "What's Mozilla?"
• You don't know what a Microsoft Office product is.
• You don't know how to scroll with a laptop mouse.

That's all I've got today.

And you probably shouldn't talk to me if you don't know who Ben Roethlisberger is, or that the Superbowl was on Sunday and we won. Read more...

Musings from the Metro Notebook, 1

I've started carrying around a notebook so I can write my thoughts down while I'm riding on the train. I tend to get frustrated with the crossword puzzles early, so having the notebook helps me pass time on my trips. The following is the entry I wrote on the way home last night.

Seat Etiquette

I'm a small person (go figure, what with my name and all). Basically, I can squeeze myself onto 3/4 of one seat - if necessary - like say, when a larger person were to sit next to me.

What it does not mean:

If you are carrying two bags, do not assume that I'm going to squish myself against the window so your bag can sit between us. One bag on the floor, one bag on your lap. Simple! In addition, if you want to rifle through your bag, put it on your lap. Rifling through your bag only pushes me further into the window.

You, sweetheart, have now elbowed me 3 times on a ten minute train ride. Next time, I will elbow back.

And I hope you are reading this as I write. I see you peering over my shoulder. Maybe it will teach you to be conscious of your fellow passengers. Read more...

A Morning List

Gross and/or Annoying Things on the Train into Work:

• Grease spot on the window - undoubtedly from someone's hair.
• Loud burp from the lady standing next to me on the platform. Totally thought it was a dude before I turned around.
• Guy hacking up a lung behind me.
• Burp lady playing games on her cell phone with the volume way up.

I really need to re-consider not listening to my iPod in the morning. Read more...