Crazy
As I transferred from the yellow to red line this morning at Gallery Place-Chinatown (how much the layout of that station sucks is an entire other post), I piled onto a very crowded train with the rest of humanity. We were all squished toward one door, while there was a righteous crazy guy holding court at the other door. He was all spread out, holding on to two different hold bars, which is kind of unfair considering how packed in the rest of us were. He was flaunting his space. All's fair in love and insanity, though. At first I didn't know what he was talking about, but I figured out that it was a diatribe about that guy who got dragged for nine miles on 95 after being hit while changing his tire (horrific story that one).

Then, the crazy man paused though and (tangentially?) cried out: "And then she said, 'why'd you take my car without asking?!' And I said, 'wha-?!'"
Hey, I like that shtick too! Play dumb, that's the way to do it.

We had another sweeeet teleconference last night, but this one was only two and a half hours. Not to worry, though, there's another one tomorrow, which may be a marathon as well. All of these calls are about a grant proposal, though, and I should definitely not be the one complaing, as I'm not the one who was the put all of the many pieces together, a coat of many colors if you will.

In other news, after a fun night chowing down on some cheap wings, I hurried home to watch the America's Next Top Model that I had just taped. I peeled open a sugar-free fudgsicle, nestled into the couch, and pressed the remote button to discover that this week's show was a dratted recap of the past weeks. Why must they toy with their viewing audience like that? Next week will be a doozy, though. I read about it, and the network is not even sure how to handle it. I won't tell you what the topic is, as this web site is PG-13, but let my warning whet your appetite and assure you of scandal. Sweet relief, though, in that I read that Tyra Banks signed on for two more seasons of the show.