BART (METRO/SUBWAY) VOICE: Doors Open
::I attempt to get off of the train as my ENTIRE leg is run over by this small man's suitcase who is also pushing me into the side of the door so he can get out first::
ME: What the heck!!!
::As I kick the rude guy's suitcase hard enough that it rolls down two flights of escalators::
RUDE GUY: ::silence and an extra mean look::
BART PASSENGERS: ::applause::
ME: Excuse me ::as I walk past him stumbling to get his things::
Maybe I should feel bad, but PEOPLE CAN BE SO RUDE!!!
peOPle aRE sO rUDe....
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mY kID, tHE fOod criTIC....
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Now this is by no means turning into a mommy blog, but I felt the need to vent:
Dear cyberpeople,
I'm convinced that the little person renting space in my uterus is a food elitist--he/she has something against EVERYONE'S cooking. My little food elitist will get a taste of this and a taste of that and then not even 10 minutes later spits it out like yesterday's trash--resulting in mommy having lots of one-on-one time with her new bff, Porcelain Pauline.
It's even gotten to the point where my little food critic has suppressed mommy's urge to eat for hours at a time--probably because he/she doesn't respect my palate anymore.
Hopefully I'll regain his/her trust again soon (before his/her 40week eviction) and my Emeril-In-Training's appetite falls in line with mine once more. Porcelain Pauline is a great listener and all, but I think we may need some space.
- Hungry in Cali
Peace
..............
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I used to live in a room full of mirrors; all I could see was me. I take my spirit and I crash my mirrors, now the whole world is here for me to see.
-Jimi Hendrix
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