Through The Looking Glass...or out the T Window

Whenever I ride the T I have a heightened awareness to my surroundings. Not from the "See Something, Say Something" messages constantly flashing at me or ringing over the loud speaker, but from my desire to understand people. People watching. Today I noticed some things. They mainly focus on one element: people will do as people will do. As we approached a stop I saw a man get into his SUV and light up, not a cigarette but a cigar. This struck me as odd. Cigars are normally reserved for celebrations, good times and a nice summer cookout. Smoking one while driving seemed out of place. As I contemplated what this guy must be like my eyes wandered to a woman dressed as though going on a hike but looking rather frail. She stood for multiple stops (like I was). The man to her side was sitting down, in his business suit, on his PDA, with his bag on the empty seat next to him. He did not offer. She did not ask. However, as soon as a seat further up became available she took it. And so began her conversation with a similarly aged woman regarding the disrespect of today's generation. He was too self-centered to offer and she was too proud to ask. I'm hoping to land somewhere in the middle...

People will do as people will do.

Running...with or without the scissors

So I've never been a runner. I joined track once. The end of that story. For something who doesn't run, however, I use the verb very frequently. I'm running on empty. Running on fumes. Running on coffee. I must be American, because America Runs on Dunkins. Here's the thing, running makes you tired. Today my friend was telling me about her run, all scheduled for tomorrow. Yesterday another friend chronicled her run with her boyfriend. The ideas seems nice, but I don't run. So what do I do? Replace the run- use what I need to get a "runner's high?". I'd like to start running on other things, maybe chocolate, dance and music? And I'd like the word run to stand-alone. People always talk about a "run in the park" or this or that. Let's just let life run people...

Skipping and Waiting in Lines

We've all been in a grocery store (insert: Target, department store, etc) line where we have run in for an item or two and as we get in line the person in front of us has purchased enough to feed a small country. This happens to me more often than not as I often need just one thing to complete a recipe. As I stand there I can't help but think, 'please, just let them say "oh you go ahead, you have SO much less than I do,"' but alas they rarely do. So patiently I wait as the scanner clicks for what seems like over an hour as the seemingly endless supply of sustenance crosses the register barrier.

However, when I am sitting at a red light and don't immediately tap the gas the moment the light flickers to green people get angry; honking, fingers and yelling may ensue as I move my foot anxiously from the brake to the gas. Drivers swerve across lanes to pass each other, going well over the speed limit (or in Massachusetts just above the flow of traffic).

Here is what I want to know: how do those people handle the doldrums of waiting in a store line?

Getting Your Guacamole...A Lesson in Patience

Last night I went out to dinner with a couple of good friends. I went to a place I had not been in quite a few years, but I remembered the atmosphere of the laid back, hippie staff well from the moment I opened the door. The Mexican fare rumbled through the air like spicy nostalgia coming to life. As my friend and I looked over the menu we settled on splitting a nacho platter. She's vegetarian. I don't like jalapenos. I like guacamole. She doesn't. We wanted extra sour cream. Not picky, just a bit complicated. As the food arrived we were short a few requests...mainly the guac and sour cream. Three times later our extras came. Each time the waiter was apologetic and each time he forgot. He was running around like crazy, but only had two tables. He made us laugh. And I realized that it's not about when you get something, but how you get it; and also to never make nachos so complicated again.

Lights, Rain and PA

A good friend and I were having a conversation yesterday about the weather, ok about more than the weather. After a gorgeous New England summer we have been getting monsooned with rain the last few days. Anyone who has lived in Massachusetts knows what happens with any form of precipitation: people forget how to drive. As I sat cozily in the warm yoga studio finishing my day's tasks my friend went on about the apparently horrid fiascos happening on the highways in the rain: switching lanes, un-kept speed limits and (gasp!) driving without your lights on. As a Massachusetts native I felt it was my right to defend my state and those licensed within it. The conversation then switched to how different drivers in difference states and their own rules of the road. We discussed PA. While driving later that evening, thumping and splashing over rain soaked streets, I saw a car from PA that was driving erratically (probably just lost). As I started to get frustrated I went to switch lanes to avoid the lost driver. Then I realized my lights weren't on...

Good thing it's just an urban legend: http://www.snopes.com/crime/gangs/lightsout.asp

When Doing Good Turns Messy

Really messy...

Yesterday, while already feeling slightly nauseated, I woke up at 5am to help my mom place multiple items curbside. These items were neither trash nor recycling but ones for donation. Cups and dishes packed carefully, children's books stacked neatly, pictures, electronics and fabrics all placed outside and carefully covered with a tarp to be protected from the rain. As I dozed back to sleep in my semi-conscious state I felt good about donating so many things that would be put to good use. Then a few hours later I heard my dog whining, and my mother whining and then the worst noise of the morning *bang**crush**crash**. Despite our best efforts to cover and protect the valuable items for donation, disregarding the sign specifically placed and protected in a Ziploc bag for the donation truck, our items had been picked up by the recycling! Half of the items aren't recyclable, none of them were packaged properly and worst of all my ideals of donating had literally gone in the trash. So I went back to sleep, nothing could be done, and hoped the recycling people didn't make this same mistake throughout our town. Next time I'll schedule a pick-up.