The Chicago River is infested with alligators.
By infested I mean they found alligator #2 and have been trying to catch it.
While I doubt anyone really wants to swim in that green mess of a river....just, uh, watch out for gators??
Monday, August 23, 2010
Friday, August 20, 2010
I don't ride my bicycle
Because I am afraid I would be injured or done away with by my loving CTA.
Riding home last week on my beloved bus, I unsuspectingly took an empty seat. Innocuous enough. It was a pretty full bus, but it was the little punks who think they can't MOVE TO THE BACK OF THE BUS that were making it so full. I sat down, and the weird guy next to me said "Why stand when you can sit, right?" Right you are, Weirdy. Right you are. He continued to awkwardly look at me periodically...and then got off of the bus one block before my street. That doesn't make me uncomfortable at all. I just love when I learn weird people live in my neighborhood.
As you have probably noticed...the things that weird me out are probably just every day occurrences that I happen to over dramatize. So what? My life is far more entertaining this way.
This morning I was in a car (*gasp!* I will write my apology letter to the CTA and the environment later [ha. al gore. ha]. But considering the CTA and I have a very unhealthy and co dependent relationship, I don't feel the least bit guilty about it) and I saw a gentleman waiting for a bus. I use the term "gentleman" loosely.
He was probably 21, nice looking, khaki shorts, polo...nothing too out of the ordinary....until I saw him pulling at a wedgie (classy, I know. I shudder to type that word...wedgie...but there's really no other way to put it, and the story simply must be told) and noticed he was wearing white socks with his adidas athletic sandals. Ohmygoodnesswholetyououtofthehouselikethat????
Poor guy. Probably thought I was staring at him for totally different reasons.
A special thank you to Postcards for letting me chill out on their blogroll. I'm not tech savvy enough to make it really evident that I'm following them as a blogger, so here is a plug for them as a thank you.
Riding home last week on my beloved bus, I unsuspectingly took an empty seat. Innocuous enough. It was a pretty full bus, but it was the little punks who think they can't MOVE TO THE BACK OF THE BUS that were making it so full. I sat down, and the weird guy next to me said "Why stand when you can sit, right?" Right you are, Weirdy. Right you are. He continued to awkwardly look at me periodically...and then got off of the bus one block before my street. That doesn't make me uncomfortable at all. I just love when I learn weird people live in my neighborhood.
As you have probably noticed...the things that weird me out are probably just every day occurrences that I happen to over dramatize. So what? My life is far more entertaining this way.
This morning I was in a car (*gasp!* I will write my apology letter to the CTA and the environment later [ha. al gore. ha]. But considering the CTA and I have a very unhealthy and co dependent relationship, I don't feel the least bit guilty about it) and I saw a gentleman waiting for a bus. I use the term "gentleman" loosely.
He was probably 21, nice looking, khaki shorts, polo...nothing too out of the ordinary....until I saw him pulling at a wedgie (classy, I know. I shudder to type that word...wedgie...but there's really no other way to put it, and the story simply must be told) and noticed he was wearing white socks with his adidas athletic sandals. Ohmygoodnesswholetyououtofthehouselikethat????
Poor guy. Probably thought I was staring at him for totally different reasons.
A special thank you to Postcards for letting me chill out on their blogroll. I'm not tech savvy enough to make it really evident that I'm following them as a blogger, so here is a plug for them as a thank you.
Thursday, August 19, 2010
Dirty looks
I've said this before. I don't like drive-by-parenting...and I don't like dirty looks on the train.
I was being herded through the Loop with the cattle headed toward the Metra. Everyone is headed the same direction, except the one very tall gentleman in the fedora playing the clarinet. That was odd, but lovely. Good job, my friend. Well done.
As I head to the platform, I see the cattle, erm, passengers are waiting patiently (read: swearing, pushing, and shoving. Their kindergarten teachers would be so mortified) for the train. It was a minute or two late, so once it got there the cattle, erm, passengers spontaneously morphed into a swarm of bees and began loading the train. Despite my undying love for crowded, hot, and sticky train platforms in the middle of summer, I navigated my way to a less crowded car.
Thank you, beautiful man who sat next to me for the first eight stops. You were pleasant to sit next to, even if we both were listening to our iPods.
I selected my playlist for the ride, and at some point, some children made their way to the seat behind me and were playing their nintendo something or other (I don't know what the kids call them these days...we had a SEGA genesis growing up and that's about as cool as we got). I noticed the lady in front of me was quite disturbed there were children in this car. "Can they not see this is the ADULTS ONLY car? Did their mother not teach them children should be neither seen nor heard?" she mumbled under her breath. (Ok that is not true, but doesn't it make you hate her anyway? I knowwwww she was thinking it).
I must have been pressing too hard on the seat in front of me with my knees. I've got long legs. It's not my fault. Anyway, I barely brushed the seat in front of me and the lady immediately spun her head around exorcist style and gave me a look that could kill anyone in a twenty mile radius. As she turned back around and I tried to keep from imagining the ways I could irritate her further, Mr. Beautiful next to me started cracking up as soon as he saw me laugh at the lady ahead. Thank you, Mr. Beautiful, for laughing with me through this awkward and unnecessary interaction.
It's nothing a little Cake can't fix. The band, not the tasty treat.
I was being herded through the Loop with the cattle headed toward the Metra. Everyone is headed the same direction, except the one very tall gentleman in the fedora playing the clarinet. That was odd, but lovely. Good job, my friend. Well done.
As I head to the platform, I see the cattle, erm, passengers are waiting patiently (read: swearing, pushing, and shoving. Their kindergarten teachers would be so mortified) for the train. It was a minute or two late, so once it got there the cattle, erm, passengers spontaneously morphed into a swarm of bees and began loading the train. Despite my undying love for crowded, hot, and sticky train platforms in the middle of summer, I navigated my way to a less crowded car.
Thank you, beautiful man who sat next to me for the first eight stops. You were pleasant to sit next to, even if we both were listening to our iPods.
I selected my playlist for the ride, and at some point, some children made their way to the seat behind me and were playing their nintendo something or other (I don't know what the kids call them these days...we had a SEGA genesis growing up and that's about as cool as we got). I noticed the lady in front of me was quite disturbed there were children in this car. "Can they not see this is the ADULTS ONLY car? Did their mother not teach them children should be neither seen nor heard?" she mumbled under her breath. (Ok that is not true, but doesn't it make you hate her anyway? I knowwwww she was thinking it).
I must have been pressing too hard on the seat in front of me with my knees. I've got long legs. It's not my fault. Anyway, I barely brushed the seat in front of me and the lady immediately spun her head around exorcist style and gave me a look that could kill anyone in a twenty mile radius. As she turned back around and I tried to keep from imagining the ways I could irritate her further, Mr. Beautiful next to me started cracking up as soon as he saw me laugh at the lady ahead. Thank you, Mr. Beautiful, for laughing with me through this awkward and unnecessary interaction.
It's nothing a little Cake can't fix. The band, not the tasty treat.
Wednesday, August 4, 2010
Just because you can...
...Doesn't mean you should.
Riding the bus last night to meet some friends for dinner, I innocently turn my head to look at the back of the bus, because I like to be aware of my surroundings.
I accidentally make eye contact with a stranger (I try not to...)
He winked at me.
Awkward. Uncomfortable. Heart racing (not in the "I'm so flattered!" way, in the "I'm gonna die, I just know it." way). Breaths shortening. Anxiety rising.
My stop is up.
He follows me off the bus.
I pull out my cell phone. "Jon! Either you or your wife needs to let me in your apartment NOW. Please. Just. Be. There. Right. Now. Thanks."
Crisis averted.
Riding the bus last night to meet some friends for dinner, I innocently turn my head to look at the back of the bus, because I like to be aware of my surroundings.
I accidentally make eye contact with a stranger (I try not to...)
He winked at me.
Awkward. Uncomfortable. Heart racing (not in the "I'm so flattered!" way, in the "I'm gonna die, I just know it." way). Breaths shortening. Anxiety rising.
My stop is up.
He follows me off the bus.
I pull out my cell phone. "Jon! Either you or your wife needs to let me in your apartment NOW. Please. Just. Be. There. Right. Now. Thanks."
Crisis averted.
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