Kinda Sorta Live Blogging My Jury Duty Pt. 2

I hopped a bus around 6:45 right in front of my house, In the 10 years I’ve lived there that’s the first time ever that I’ve done that. Why yes, I am in fact a spoiled suburban-raised WASP who only drives everywhere, why do you ask? The bus driver plowed up into the snowbank to get me which, actually I thought was pretty helpful. The next guy we picked up tried to hop into the street to board when the bus approached and almost got himself run over. She scolded him for one really long minute before sending him to his seat. Yes, she ordered him like a schoolmarm to a recalcitrant student. He and I shared an eye roll. I mean, she was right, what he did wasn’t smart, if he had known what she was going to do, but he didn’t, so I didn’t think she had to be so bitchy about it. Moments later, stuck behind a line of cars, the woman pulled the bus into the oncoming lane and gunned it. Yes, gunned it into oncoming traffic. Suddenly, before she hit the car in front of us she turned left, while still accelerating, into a bus-only cut-through. I looked at Almost-Squashed Guy and mouthed “What The FUCK?”

We got to the station in one piece, miraculously, and I hopped on an inbound red line train. All the seats were either full or in between people. I figured, I’m a tough broad, I’ll just grab on to this pole, lean up against it and enjoy the ride. Moments after leaving the station, I hear a voice say, “Excuse me.” I look down and the elderly gentleman sitting on the end of the row I’m standing next to is looking up at me. I think, “Aw, I’ll bet he’s going to try to offer me a seat, but I won’t take it, I should tell hi—” “Excuse me miss, but you’re standing too close to my elbow, I need to spread out here.” His friend laughs and says “He has a space issue.” I do not say “Then why the fuck is he on public transportation?” Instead I smile coldly and move about 6 inches away and make a note that I seem to be swearing a lot this morning. The next stop I grab a seat and another fellow stands in the exact same spot I had been in. He does not get the “excuse me, but” from the guy. Interesting. I switch trains and at the next stop a man gets on who asks if he can have the seat next to me. I say “of course”, and he squeezes in. In the time it takes to get to the next stop I know that he thinks the seats in trains should reflect societies growing backsides, that he was one of 11 kids and that as a kid he wore the same size as his older brother, except in a “husky”. So, is this pretty much what I’ve been missing all these years in the public transportation experience?

Kinda Sorta Live Blogging My Jury Duty

I just recently learned about Live-blogging (credit goes to JoJOpinionated) and I thought I’d try it out today since I will have absolutely nothing better to do. Except maybe work on my novel. Which I should but I know I won't. Anyway, since there does not appear to be wifi at the moment I am going to write entries as if they were live, and then post them when I get home, or when wifi pops up, which I’m hoping will happen when more businesses around the area are open. At the moment it’s 7:57.

I woke up around 4:45 this morning. Strike that, I got up around 4:45. At 4 am my son screamed out that he couldn’t open his eyes. When I got in there they were crusted shut, but when I came back with the warm washcloth and eye drops (we’ve been through this before) he said, and I quote, “Go away. I’m sleeping now.” Little bastard. Who I love with all my heart, no, really. So this means my dear sweet sister-in-law, who, while a wonderful auntie, does not have kids of her own, and now has to deal with my little handful’s newest conjunctivitis battle. I pity her. This also might mean she has to keep him home for the day. I weep for her. I’m not kidding. She arrived at 6:20 while I was making sandwiches for me and the boy. I meant to skip my shower to make my self look less appealing to any attorneys that might be eyeballing me for their jury but in the end opted to shower, thus making me late. This means I have a sandwich and two dinky bags of chips. This will not last me. I could have stopped for breakfast but I honestly don’t like breakfast foods unless A) I make them or B) they are at a greasy spoon diner. I want to sit and savor runny fried eggs, toast and maybe some nice corned beef hash. I don’t do croissants, donuts, soggy bagels, egg white flatbread whozywhatzies. This limits me a bit. So I guess I’ll eat my sammich for breakfast and roll the dice at lunch for something in the area. The upshot of skipping breakfast is that I got to the courthouse bright and early and now I’m set up at a table, near a plug, by the window. This will make the torture easier to bear. But more on that later.

Conversations With My Son

Son: (walking into kitchen) I need help drawing a boat.
Me: I need help cleaning the kitchen.
Son: (turns around) I can draw a boat.

And a bonus classic "Conversation" from two years ago:

Son: Mommy. Mommy. Mommy. Mommy.
Me: Patience, young Padawan.
Son: (looking perplexed) I'm not a Padawan. I'm a Pada-three*!



(*He's five now, in case you were not aware.)

I Resolve...

2008 sucked monkey ass. I know I'm not alone in that assessment. I never make resolutions, but I think this year I just have to.

In 2009:

• I will go back to Physical Therapy.
• I will use the new ankle I got in 2008 and get healthy. (It would be about time.)
• I will try to finish that novel. (I refuse to set myself up for a guilt trip so as long as I try I'll be happy)
• I will get better organized with my writing and housekeeping.
• I will pay cash for what I need and stop relying on credit cards.

Feel free to share your resolutions in the comments, or tell why you don't make resolutions.

Merry Christmas to all fans of Lost!

I'm dreaming of a Lost Christmas
Just like the ones with Ethan Rom
Where the treeline rustles,
and Sawyer hustles
To shoot bears and boars and Tom.

I'm dreaming of a Lost Christmas
With every Other that you fight
May your bears and bunnies be white
And may all your Dharma Beers be light

I’m dreaming of a Lost Christmas
With marbles colored black and white
Where the tree frog’s singing
And ears are ringing
From when the hatch blew up that night.

I'm dreaming of a Lost Christmas
With every number that is cursed.
May McCutcheon’s knock down your thirst,
And may all your bad luck be reversed.

What the...?

I love going through the "recommended for you" items on Amazon.com. I shop a lot with them for pretty much everybody I buy gifts for, and it makes for some interesting recommendations. If you haven't used it yourself, it makes a suggestion and then says at the bottom what you have purchased or wish-listed that makes them think you will be interested in the item.

Today I got this recommendation:








If you notice, it says it has recommended this CD of Celtic New Age Christmas music because I bought an instant hot water heater for my kitchen sink.

Um, ok.

Is there a connection of which I am not aware? Do all the hip new-agers like hot water, but are impatient? Is this based on the stereotype that the Irish like to boil their food a lot? Perhaps it assumes I drink a lot of tea and would therefore be requiring a fun and quirky coaster made from a Celtic Christmas CD?

Looking at the play list, I see a song by the name "Un Flambeau". Did the "Recommendation Bot" think, "If you like scalding water you'll love a song about something that sounds kinda flame-related. 'Cause, you know, flames are hot too. And it's french. Pretty similar, am I right?" There is also a song called "Gloucestershire Wassail". Wassail is served hot, maybe they think I will filter cider, ale or mead right through the pipes and make a festive holiday beverage in an instant! Perhaps it's as simple as seeing the song "Snow" and thinking one would want a nice cup of cocoa after it's finished playing.

Well, whatever the reasons, Amazon, I will be taking a pass on this recommendation. Thanks, but no thanks.

A Christmas Ham

Last night was the Christmas show at my son's school. Who knew that having two parents with ties to stand-up comedy would produce such a shy and withdrawn child. Oh wait, mine is the one in the red vest? Then disregard that last statement.



My biggest wish this holiday season is that my parents' computers can play this video.

Merry Christmas, everybody!