On the elevator, I noticed today that the “state elevator inspector” has the initials P.O.S. Now, it could be PDS, but it made me chuckle… then it made me worried…
I don’t want the person who inspects the elevator that brings me up to my office every day being a piece of shit.
Also. Along the same lines of odd names.
On the bus to NYC, I noticed that there was an auto parts and security shop. Who owned it? Jesus. That’s right… Jesus…
Can you imagine?
Hey, where did you get your security system?
I put up on a FB status that I was melting. This is because it’s bloody 95 degrees, and I walked to work, and the humidity literally helped me lose about 5 pounds (which means I’m not complaining too much, just making an observation about the fact that I’m melting)
This then led to this text message convo with one of my friends:
Friend: “Why are you melting?”
Me: “Because I’m walking to work, and it’s so damn hot out that I’m sweating to death.”
Friend: “Well, at least we know it’s pre-bucket melting, so we can rule out wicked witch.”
Me: “What? Not following.”
Friend: “You started melting before you had water thrown at you.”
Me: “I’m not planning on having water thrown at me.”
Friend: “Well obviously. Did you think the wicked witch of the west planned to have water thrown on her?”
Me: “Well, no, but, I”m still not sure where this is going.”
Friend: “I’m just trying to prove that you’re not the wicked witch of the west, because you started melting without water being involved.”
Me: “Was there ever any doubt about me actually being the wicked witch of the west?”
Friend: “You never know. And since we don’t live in Kansas… I have water more readily available than a twister and a house.”
Good to know that my friend’s fears are now assuaged. Hate to have her keep wondering all these years if I really was the wicked witch of the west…
I freaked out today while walking across the bridge towards work. Which wasn’t conducive to the fact that it was 95 degrees and so humid that I felt like I was swimming to work today. But I digress… back to me freaking out.
About half way across the bridge I heard what sounded like fifteen cars hitting one another. First thought through my head was that the T had derailed. This then set off about a million other thoughts about the fact that if it did derail and was heading across the bridge, I may have to jump off the bridge into the water in order to avoid getting swiped from behind. This then also reminded me that I’d have to go near the edge of the bridge where the spiders were making nests among the rusted pillars. With all of these thoughts, if something had actually been wrong, I’d probably have been dead all ready, because I was thinking too much. But, thankfully, when I turned my head, I saw the T, and it looked fine… I saw the cars, and they looked fine… so I tried to figure out what exactly had happened… It was then that a truck passed me… and I read the side of it…
Um… so… he may have just lost all his inventory as he went over a bump on the bridge…
Oh well… at least I wouldn’t have to decide if I valued my life moreso than having to confront two of my fears- heights and spiders.
Ok. Usually my blogs are about random observations that make me chuckle. This one is kinda different.
Basically my evening was about to be over at about 8:30pm last night. That is until I received a text message from a friend informing me that she could get me into the very private Styx Concert…
I decided, what the hey, I’d love to go!
And I’ve never been more excited to simply say yes to a text message in my life.
It was a very small venue, we’re talking maybe 150 people… and we were at the front, literally leaning and kinda sitting on the front of the stage. At quite a few points during songs like I am the Walrus (*coughs Beatles coughs*) and Come Sail Away and Fooling Yourself and Renegade… Tommy Shaw, DeYoung, Chuck and Lawrence were literally over top of us jamming on their guitars, singing inches from my head. Lawrence even took my cell phone and started singing into it… I only wish I had had someone on the other end, cause I’d love to have seen their face… well… or at least heard their… “What the hell just happened?” “Oh, don’t worry, one of the singers for Styx just sang to you.” “Oh, ok… GAH!” lol.
Ok, let’s just say that before last night I wasn’t a big Styx fan. I mean… I’ve jammed out to Mr. Roboto and Come Sail Away and Fooling yourself… but I only own those songs… and mostly because they were popular… but now I’m really starting to listen to some of their music, and it’s really, just fun.
They’re fabulous showmen and I’ve never been so happy to do something completely spontaneous.
My Internet at work is down… So I took a long leisurely lunch break and went to science park in Kendall square to listen to a local little band playing.
As I was leaving, I saw a man emptying the trash can. Now… He’s probably an employee of the city, and works for the overall waste management or whatever it’s called department… However on the trash can it said “janitronics”. How frakking cool is that? Then I noticed his badge. It said “director of janitronics”.
And for a moment I envied him. How fun is it that the trash collector in the middle of US’s scientific hub (Cambridge is biotech central) has the title of director of janitronics?
On another note… One of my fellow colleagues has said that her title is “director of first impressions” because she sits at the front desk and answers all incoming calls.
It seriously is all about the name… Can make anything sound ten million times better than it really is!
Today I have good cleavage. I would like to thank this amazing tank top I have on for this pleasure. Today I also saw two benefits of this interesting phenomenon.
1. Having extra cleavage means you don’t have to wear something with pockets. It’s like a ready made pocket.
2. A man nearly had his hand taken off in the elevator to get it open for me. And while that’s nice, he never once looked at my face when he asked me what floor I was going to.
I’ve found that I really like being able to walk to work. It’s about a 25-30 minute walk, depending on how I hit the lights, but it’s a great way to wake up and also to get a little morning exercise.
Thankfully, it also helps to fuel this blog.
This morning, while walking… I happened to look down at the sidewalk, which I noticed had recently been reconcreted, or however you say that. Now… I’ve seen hands, feet, and names in sidewalks before… our own little way of trying to live forever I suppose. But this morning I saw… “Waffle” written into the pavement. Now, this was odd for a couple of reasons.
1. Who writes waffle? I mean… is that someone’s name? Or just someone’s very deep appreciation for the breakfast food?
2. It was done beautifully… As in… the person’s penmanship was remarkably perfect, leading me to almost believe that it was stamped into the ground. So… is this a marketing ploy?
I’m not sure about anything… all I know is that after that… I had this insatiable hunger for waffles… hm.
Secondly… on the whole communication morning I had.
I live in America… in Boston… now. I’ve done the whole NYC melting pot thing (2 years) and I’ve walked the city streets in that city and heard all kinds of different accents, and languages. But since moving to Boston, I’ve heard a couple of people speaking different languages, but seriously not many. This morning however… I did not hear one single person speak English. I heard Spanish, French, German, Mandarin, and something that may have been Swedish, or Slavic… (I’m not very good with understanding all of the different languages of the world)
Perhaps they ought to start calling Boston the epicenter of the melting pot… and NOT NYC. Hm.