okay, fine, here's the post i've been working on.

all late about it, i know.

first of all, had a very interesting train ride the other night. [oh, the midnight red line.] 

1. about five teenage boys were harmonizing by the door, sitting across from each other. they were good - like boys II men, only a little more explicit, i think. ["am i the only one... or one of many men in your life..." i mean, good to know.] 

2. that blind guy was asking for money and food - which was interesting first because i recognized him from the last time he was asking for money on the train. but i'm really intrigued by the way he speaks. he says, "i'm asking for anyone's help, on the train. will anyone here notice me, on the train?" i feel like it's really direct - like, i see you. we're all here on the train. i've been doing a little bit of a study about how people ask for money ever since we talked about it in class. [call me a jerk for having an academic interest in this, though.]

3. a bunch of girls got on the train with matching big hair, fancy clothes, drunkenness, and apparent disregard for open container laws. it always freaks me out when large groups of people are dressed so much alike, but i guess they shop together and take their cues from each other, too.

4. i love it when the lights go out while the train is running. gives you such a careening out of control kind of feeling.

THEN, a guy on the bus the other day CALLED me FAT. as a precursor to this story, i think i'm pretty aware of where i am on the weight spectrum, and whether or not i'm okay with that isn't really the point of the story - it's just too good not to share.

g: [scoots over in his seat and hits me] oh, sorry! i didn't realize you were so wiiiide.

b: [smiling, because that's what i do] what?!

g: no, it's good. you've got a lot for a man to hold! [smiling, as if he's friendly and talking about something totally normal] i see by your rings, you've got a lot for a man to hold... it's good...

b: [decisively turns away]

like, overall, he was being really nice and not at all creepy. he was giving off kind of a grandfatherly vibe, even. but still, please don't talk about my weight or sexual activity on the bus, stranger. and what is it with this married vibe i'm apparently giving off? i wear a ring on the middle finger of my right hand, people. learn the code.

[later edit: i'm embarrassed that, apparently, i had no idea what was going on. sorry, guys.]

on a related note, saw a bride smoking a cigarette outside the church before her wedding. cupcake dress, bridesmaids, and a cigarette. it was so awesome. i made up a whole story about her while we were waiting at the red light in our apartment locator's car, to the mortification of my roommates. [they prefer awkward silence to my saying "congratulations!" out the window to smoking brides.]

and, interesting on the internet...

Let me make clear again why I keep referring to the overdiagnosis and overmedication of children today as a “narrative” – the sort of phenomenon that deserves to find its place among what Mintz calls “public panics” – and not as an established fact. It’s because I believe that, over the past decade or so, scattered reports of increased diagnoses of mental health ills and of increasing use of psychotropic medications by the young have been woven into a scary storyline that distorts the reality of what’s happening to kids in our country.

judith warner is always so interesting, i think, and i really like this article [and, if you're interested in her opinion about what's actually happening or not happening with overmedication, this previous one] not even because of the content, but because of what she says about narrative.

"all stories are true" is, i think, from things fall apart. i'm thinking about two things, weirdly - urban legends in general and whether anyone's actually been killed after flashing their headlights at another car, and that urban legend about abraham lincoln's calling harriet beecher stowe "the little lady who started this war," or whatever. but clearly something doesn't have to be true to be effective, which i like. it puts that whole "what is truth" thing into perspective. or out of perspective. lots more to say on this, but i think i'm done for now.

playing around on snopes.com with the "random" generator, this was the first true story i found. nice. and you guys say i never write about baseball anymore.

apparently i'm a catch.

best comment i've gotten yet, from a stranger - "reading a book, eh? not many women like to read books. your husband must be PROUD of YOU."

of course, i was on the suspenseful last twenty pages of the sparrow [which i recommend], and of course i agreed that my husband was proud.

what. it's not like the drunk guy in the park wasn't already lying to me.

[later edit: i was lying about being married. i am not married. but if you're a stranger, sorry if you originally thought i was married to a guy who somehow isn't proud of me.]

"sorry for eavesdropping, but it's kind of our job."

so, hung out with some undercover cops the other night. and by that i mean, we were sitting awkwardly close to some undercover cops at thai bowl [they had gotten all un-undercover by then, but they were still wearing awkward fake-college clothes] and accidentally hit on them.

and by that i mean, a certain friend of mine giggled and said, "i've never been this close to a weapon before." if you read this blog or know me at all, you know that i thought that was hilarious. so did most of the cops.

short selection of comments:

- it's a pretty powerful weapon!

- he's got handcuffs, too.

- he's got LOTS of equipment. a flashlight?

- he can be the cop.

- awww man, i ALWAYS have to be the cop.

they invited us to go on a ride-along with them afterwards. we said sorry, we didn't bring our bulletproof vests. they said they have extras, because most of them don't wear them. [eeek.] still, though, we passed on that one - if only for the fear that, as the same friend said, they were more interested in taking clothes off than in giving us more clothes. right.

rode the train to midway this weekend, and it struck me [not for the first time] how weird it is that the train says, "this is midway, as far as this train goes." i always think, what, does each individual train get to decide? like, as far as THIS train goes, we're at midway. but i was in the middle of telling my brother about this, and he said, what, it doesn't go all the way? 

when i arrived in manchester [the one in new hampshire], i saw two signs that are not supposed to be hilarious.

1. "dunkin donuts gets you running." dunkin donuts gives you the runs? anyone?

2. "sizzling cold - welcome to manchester, the gateway to northern new england." it was a coke ad, but still. sizzling cold? that's what we're promoting?

little girl on the plane: [pointing] is HE stranger danger? is SHE stranger danger?

her mom: umm, honey, don't point.

so last week, i meant to blog about how you should never sing on public transportation. [this was inspired by a group of 60ish women singing some song - i forget what, but it was something like "you don't own me." they were doing that fake-bad voice, too.] but then, on the orange line, two girls from this group of maybe five teenagers stood up and started singing, gospel-style. 

they were just okay, but what i liked was this little interaction:

- they're going to kick you off the train.

- they don't know who i AM. you know that guy who says "doors closing"? that's my dad.

WELL-PLAYED.

and even more my heart is the same

i'd like you all to know that i've seen both my favorite friends quotes ever today.

joey: i know what to do. you play hard to get!

ross: she already LIVES in LONDON.

joey: [pause] you go to tokyo!

rachel: still in love with? i'm not in love with ross. i like ross as much as the next guy... clearly, i have feelings for him, but feelings don't mean LOVE. i mean, i still have loving feelings for ross. i have continuing feelings of love, but that doesn't mean that i am still IN love with him. i have sexual feelings for him, but i do love him - oh, my God. WHY DIDN'T YOU TELL ME?

phoebe: we thought you knew! we talk about it all the time!

i'd rather blog than grade, obviously.

also, posting things like this when i should be doing work reminds me of how much i miss AIM, and i think this pretty much sums up why.

m: b, I don't know if you know that there is a typo in your profile of the worst kind.

b: are you serious?

g: oh my gosh yes.

m: yes. not a typo that just looks like a typo, but one that looks like you don't know the difference between an adverb and a preposition.

b: OH MY GOODNESS

g: I would laugh, but this is not a laughing matter.

m: I have to agree. my mouth is set in a grim line.

b: your face was already pretty grim.

it's kind of awkward [i mean, and awesome] that i have a co-worker now who remembers when i used to do things like, um, change my AIM profile several times a day. it was ARTSY, dammit. and i should mention that i originally started this blog because 1024 characters just weren't enough for me.

okay, i just signed on to AIM, just to see what would happen. guys, here's what my profile looked like last time i signed on, which i think was about two years ago. [i signed off again really really quickly, because i was afraid of what might happen if i relapsed.]

xxx-xxx-xxxx celly

L: what's sexier than God??

am i headed for the same brick wall?

is there anything i can do about anything at all?

except go back to that corner in manhattan

and dig deeper

dig deeper this time

- ani

there is an insane amount of power in choice.

all things have changed except my mind

and even more my heart is the same

"i suspect you're handling everything with your usual grace..."

drive until you lose the road

we are embarrassed by the intolerable compliment, by too much love, not too little.

- c.s. lewis

yes, all the spaces are necessary. [i can't believe you'd even ask.] and what an interesting look back in my life. am i headed for the same brick wall? well, i'll keep you all posted.

storypeople fixes everything?

so i was in a little bit of a mood today, and not really up for jewel's bullshit.

b: can you help me find something? spicy v-8.

jewel manager: hmm, yes. it's in the juice aisle.

b: THIS isn't the juice aisle?

jm: no. this is the pop and snacks aisle.

b: i looked over by the orange juice. that's not the juice aisle?

jm: no, that's the dairy aisle. [decides i need a lot of help] here, i'll walk you over there.

b: [feeling snarky] what if i want spicy v-8 as a snack?

jm: what? oh, well that's the thing. some people do. but see, it's not a refrigerated juice.

b: yeah, i wasn't sure whether you had to refrigerate it or not...

jm: [solemnly] only after you open it.

in my defense, i don't really drink juice unless i'm sick. and also, jewel sucks. i swear that they put things in the wrong places just to make you buy more stuff. it took me like six months to realize that they have on the border salsa, because it's in the chip aisle with the tostitos salsa and not in the mexican aisle with every other salsa. grrr, branding.

in better news, look what i got today!

for the record, i did NOT steal it from kristen. she put it back. THEN i picked it up.

i may also be suffering from a little thing called "i saw a lot of people i love this weekend, and then all of a sudden they all went home." let's hang out more, friends.

if you're looking for a theme, this post is about love.

so the irresistible revolution is pretty much rocking my life. i'm going to go ahead and recommend it to anyone who's interested in ending poverty, loving jesus, or changing their lives. or all three. i mean, i've had a crush on shane claiborne since i first read his stuff on the God's politics blog. [his commitment to the single life apparently isn't a problem for me.] i'm still halfway through the book, though, so hang on and i'll see if i can blog about it later. i think my favorite think about it so far is how honest he is about his own conversion. it's not preachy. so far, very well done.

i'm pretty sure i saw someone sharing candy with a stranger on the bus today. then he goes, "they're making these chocolate-covered now. werther's originals? i work in a store, so i know. we're getting them in next week." nice.

had one of the best waiters of my life today at the outdoor cafe - pretty sure he helped us pull together like nine tables, split our checks, and made sure we all got what we wanted and extra napkins, too. i mean, it was a busy touristy place on a holiday weekend, and he stopped to ask us why we were so dressed up. awesome. [we were like, oh, this is just what we do on sundays.] then i flirted with the barista at intelligentsia and got two punches in my punch card. took the bus to my favorite falafel place, and made friends with the guy there, too. [i said my falafel was for here, and he goes, "so you're eating dinner with us! yay."] and i mention all this because i think i either need to translate my flirting skills into the real world OR start dating people who work at places i like to eat. actually, that second one might be a good option. hmm.

i'm watching SVU and feeling really frustrated that i can't rewind it to figure out what just happened. [stupid parents' house, getting me all spoiled with your DVR.] i think fin just called eliot a "rat bastard," though, so that's something.

man, i had missed this commercial:

dad: did you kids choose your five yet?

sister: sarah, beth, crystal, jackie, and jenny.

little brother: that's funny, i chose sarah, beth, crystal, jackie, and jenny. [pause] your friends are HOT.

sister: [protests to dad] are you going to do anything?!

dad: maybe you should have uglier friends.

my pretty friends went to a wedding today, in which the minister apparently talked about how people think that marriage restricts your freedom. there were some comments [at the classic between wedding and reception get-together] about how there are always negative things about marriage in wedding sermons. today, after some debate, the people who were actually at the wedding decided that the minister turned it around by saying that marriage makes you more free because you can succeed or fail in life and still be loved. [note that i already feel that way, thanks to all of you...]

interesting, though - what do you say about marriage in a society with a marriage track record like ours? i think that the most badass marriage homily i ever heard started with negative statistics, then turned around with the phrase "but we know that our God lives." our God LIVES. BAM.

watch out - a gossip girl copycat is out and about in real life and causing some controversy, obviously. but does anyone else think this is really good writing for an eighth grader?

"you're a teacher?!"

NEW INDIANA JONES MOVIE IS SO AWESOME. so awesome, because it's just like the other ones, only better. no pretending to be something it's not. this is a classic, cheesy-as-hell indiana jones movie. lots of car chases and communists in this one - if you liked the other ones, you've got to see it.

there was a guy behind me in the theater who, in response to the annoying movie preview guy, said, "give me a shovel. somebody needs to die." i mean, a shovel? really?

guy behind me: it's amazing. we'd never watch all these commercials at home, but here, they make us watch them.

woman with him: yeah, i think that's exactly their evil plan!

gbm: it's like being on lost.

one of the commercials before the movie was about how cops are now enforcing seat belt laws. it's one of those commercials i really love to hate. in it, a 20-something cop pulls over another 20-something guy. the guy in the car's like, "hey, seriously? what did i do?" and the cop tells him he forgot his turn signal and isn't wearing his seat belt. the guy's like, oh, sorry - and the cop says he'll give him a warning for the turn signal. we're supposed to notice that they're friends. then the guy in the car's like, "you coming to the game watch saturday? hey, wait, what are you writing?" the cop writes him a ticket for the seat belt, and is like, "see you saturday, man." the voice over's all, "we're cracking down on seat belt violations, ohio."

i hate this commercial because apparently the message is that you have to wear your seat belt even if the cop who pulls you over happens to be your friend. not really a useful message for me.

n: i hate that noise. don't you?

b: not as much as i hate your FACE.

n: ahhh, we look alike. making all face jokes and your mom jokes invalid!

i always say that my brother is the only person who gets all my jokes. problem is, he also one-ups all my insults.