Random Friday Things
There was a lady on the train this morning that talked for over 30 minutes about her 13-year-old son's growth spurt to her seat mate. It bored the piss out of me. I didn't realize one could talk about a growth spurt in such detail and for so long.
======================================
I managed to hop the "express" train home from work today. It normally takes about 30 minutes. Halfway through the journey home, the conductor came on over the loud speaker and advised us we would soon be stopping because a tornado was headed right at us. We were at a stand-still for about 40 minutes. No tornado came, much to the chagrin of the 18-year-old kid lounging on the seat in back of me, who called all of her friends and family and said "how cool" it would be to be in the middle of a tornado. She either has a death wish or just has an odd penchant for carnage.
This is also the same girl who coughed up a lung (without covering her mouth) and sniffed so much you could hear the boogers sliding around her sinus cavity. Like nails on a chalkboard. I literally was going batty. I'm now feeling sniffly. So help me...if that little bitch contaminated the air around me...I do NOT need to be getting sick, now of all times.
======================================
It's official: I'm becoming boring. The highlight of my night was doing a load of laundry. And oddly enough, I don't care. The upshot of this is there are other people in my building with an equally dull social life because all of the washers and dryers were quite full this evening. Maybe I should start a club. "Desperately seeking other lame-o losers who used to be cool..."
======================================
Big time pedi emergency being taken care of tomorrow. Rafferty and I are trying a new spa in a neighboring town called Lucyna's Goldfingers. I honestly cannot even take the name seriously.
======================================
And in the saddest of news, the one song I despised when it first came out is now the one I cannot get out of my head and one that sees the volume raised when it comes on rhe radio. Damn you, Justin Timberlake.
======================================
I managed to hop the "express" train home from work today. It normally takes about 30 minutes. Halfway through the journey home, the conductor came on over the loud speaker and advised us we would soon be stopping because a tornado was headed right at us. We were at a stand-still for about 40 minutes. No tornado came, much to the chagrin of the 18-year-old kid lounging on the seat in back of me, who called all of her friends and family and said "how cool" it would be to be in the middle of a tornado. She either has a death wish or just has an odd penchant for carnage.
This is also the same girl who coughed up a lung (without covering her mouth) and sniffed so much you could hear the boogers sliding around her sinus cavity. Like nails on a chalkboard. I literally was going batty. I'm now feeling sniffly. So help me...if that little bitch contaminated the air around me...I do NOT need to be getting sick, now of all times.
======================================
It's official: I'm becoming boring. The highlight of my night was doing a load of laundry. And oddly enough, I don't care. The upshot of this is there are other people in my building with an equally dull social life because all of the washers and dryers were quite full this evening. Maybe I should start a club. "Desperately seeking other lame-o losers who used to be cool..."
======================================
Big time pedi emergency being taken care of tomorrow. Rafferty and I are trying a new spa in a neighboring town called Lucyna's Goldfingers. I honestly cannot even take the name seriously.
======================================
And in the saddest of news, the one song I despised when it first came out is now the one I cannot get out of my head and one that sees the volume raised when it comes on rhe radio. Damn you, Justin Timberlake.
2 Comments:
There's something to be said about so-called "boring" Friday nights. Last night after a last-minute get-together, Spouse ended up babysitting our neighbor who was puking all over himself when he got out of the car. Who do you think had a better night???? Needless to say we're all locking our doors and staying in tonight!
By
RockerMom, at 9:54 AM
Please, please, pleeeeaaaassseee come back from the spa and tell us all that Pussy Gallore did your nails. Please. If you have to, make it all up, but make it plausable.
By
Elle Starr, at 2:26 PM
Post a Comment
<< Home