Monday, May 31, 2010

I could have reported about myself

On Sunday there was quite a long wait for the Blue Line...so...since I had just stopped at CVS and bought some new nailpolish, I made use of the time.

The girl painting her nails at the (insert Blue Line stop of your choice) on Sunday? That was me. I'm not ashamed of it one bit.

Thursday, May 27, 2010

I still don't know how to inform somebody of the status of their unzipped zipper.

Tuesday, May 25, 2010

Conversations...

I spotted my lovely friend in the same train car that I was in on my way home from work.
Our conversation via text message across the crowded car was priceless, and went as follows:


Me:The guy in the white shirt to your left is a total looker
A:The one who is trying to elbow my eye out? Duuuuuude. Watch it.
Me:Hot, but dumb? 
A:Nope. Flat buns.
Me:Tragic.

A:Not butt. But dumb. Disregard me.
A:He's much to fidgety
Me: Bahahaha he just picked his nose. Also, someone stepped on my sandal resulting in bare foot on the subway. Resisting panic. . .
A: Breathe in. Breathe out. Namaste.
Me: Aaaand he caught me smiling. Little does he know, he's my next blog.
A: Nose picker, you will not be missed.
Me: Best blue line ride in a long time. 
A: Our powers combined, me thinks.
Me: For sure. It's amazing the whole transit system hasn't exploded. our wordless magnetism that beckons the strange is pretty powerful.

It also might be foot freak out day on the L. I accidentally bumped somebody's leg with my foot today as I was getting ready to get up from my seat. I was wearing flip flops...he was wearing shorts. Bare foot+bare leg=a whole lot of neurotic freak outs that had to be stifled as I ran out of the train car so I wouldn't have to think about it.

Wednesday, May 12, 2010

Cattle and gum chewers

The urge to say "mmmmoooooo" strikes me in overwhelming capacity occasionally at Clark and Lake. I can only move as quickly as the person in front of me, so please, stop crowding me. You make me nervous. I realize odd thing stress me out. Someone right on my heels at the escalator is one of those things.

Also, at risk of sounding like your mother or 2nd grade teacher, allow me to ask you something.
"Where did you get that gum? Why are you chewing it like a cow? Were you born in a barn? Did you know it is very, very rude to chew with your mouth open, even if it is chewing gum?"

Grossity-gross gross. I have this problem with sounds. Loud chewing is one of those. The others include clicking noises, smacking (i.e. chewing with your mouth open), "fat" noises (you would know it if you heard it...it sounds like something akin to what a vat of mayonnaise would sound like if it could speak, or stirring a pot of macaroni and cheese) and nail clipping. I encounter all of these on the train. I AM NOT NEUROTIC. Ok. I know that I am. But it's an endearing sort of crazy. I don't expect people to cater to these tendencies, I'm only letting you see a brief glimpse of things that make me shudder.

All that to say....PLEASE stop smacking your gum. //end rant that exposes my bent towards psychosis. 

Thursday, May 6, 2010

Intentional, Or Typo?

A tattoo I saw this morning on my way into work:
"In loving memory of Boobie."

Monday, May 3, 2010

Man Space

I'm a little tired of dudes taking up one and a half seats. It's like a snuggle fest on the train every day. In the winter I was fine with this...I know it's a tad creepy, but seriously, Chicago winters are brutal and I'll take extra warmth wherever I can find it. Pretty soon though our temps are going to top out at 80 and 90 degrees, and I don't want to smell test everyone's deodorant just because some dude has decided to be selfish with the seats.

Like today, for example.

I haven't ever sat that close to somebody I wasn't dating.

Does this mean we're dating now, random Blue Line stranger? Because if it does, I'm really, really confused.

Ok that makes no sense at all, but I'm trying to make a point. Putting your red eye on the seat next to you does not work like those jerkfaces who take up four parking spots at Target because they don't want their nice new Escalade or whatever you kids are driving these days to get a lil scratch on it. You can't claim two seats...one for you and one for your newspaper...

Also, last week a gentleman told me he was the ugliest king of the mountain, and then asked me to join his club. I'm still baffled as to how I should have responded. . . But it was the highlight of my commuting experience!