things and stuff and the like.
- People's behaviour on public transit fascinates me. Under normal circumstances, each person would build a wall of china between them and the next person if they could, if only to ensure their arm did not have the unpleasant experience of being felt up by a stranger's probing elbow. Everyone makes a beeline for the single seats, dashing up the stairs and shoving bystanders aside like a woman at a 50% off shoe sale, and failing that they build barricades around themselves, leaving 2-3 empty seats between them and the next person because God forbid they have any kind of human contact, who knows what deadly virus could be contracted by grazing another's sleeve? They sit clutching their handbags at their sides for extra insurance lest someone dare choose the seat next to them, staring with a fixed, intense gaze at the floor as though it was a magic eye puzzle, if only to avoid any type of eye contact. This applies to all hours of the day except during rush-hour, when the luxury and comfort of the shapely plastic bus seats far outweighs the annoyance of the clowns in a clown car effect.
Apparently, today was also an exception, because there I was, midday on the subway along with maybe 5 other people, and in shuffles an old blue-hair, who promptly plops down right next to me, shoving my bag of art supplies and laptop aside, and proceeds to take out a giant manuscript of sorts and begins scribbling furiously, her delicious scent of ointment wafting from every pore. Perhaps she was also observing the curious behaviour of subway people and wanted to gauge my reaction when she dug her elbows into my side and placed her giant bag filled with what I was assuming was hard candy, used tissues, and letters to the editor on my lap. I'm not sure. I'm not sure that I care. - I think I'm on the cusp of crossing over from "miss" to "ma'am". I was ma'am'd twice today, and miss'd only once. Am I really ma'am material?
- Is November a candidate for greatest month ever? I think so. I'd like to thank those who made it possible. Well, mainly one person. Willie and I are flitting off to Montreal on a mere six days for four days of glory, meaning December would also be on the ballot if not for the 3 weeks of agony that I'll be in Winnipeg, and thus away from him. I am now accepting offers for someone to go in my place. It would be an unpaid internship, and the only requirements are a high school diploma, a blonde wig and an extensive knowledge of indie music. Do you think I could advertise this on monster.ca?
And now I'm out like Rosie O'Donnell.¹
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¹ I have used that line before, back when it was a) relevant, and b) funny. Clearly I'm running low on material. From now on, I will be changing my ending salutation to "Fuck the Police".