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the latest waddle:

good morning, wordpress - 10:36 a.m. , 2009-07-03

elaborate murder attempt - 2:56 p.m. , 2009-07-01

building a tractor in the basement - 10:42 a.m. , 2009-06-19

ask no questions tell just a few lies - 3:17 p.m. , 2009-06-09

my long lasting flavor really lasts long - 1:10 p.m. , 2009-06-04

2008-09-08 ... 3:16 p.m.


It is a new school year, so for my neighborhood that means a new crop of bewildered Loyola students on public transportation. I must be a cantankerous old lady because I often find myself wondering if all teenagers are this dumb or if it is something specific to that school. I try to have sympathy for confused people, I really do, but sometimes it is difficult.

Two girls get on the bus and start talking about OMG the bus they haven't done this before! But it will be okay, really it will! Are you freaking out? No! Well maybe a little! Are you? I swear, they were like Walter and Perry in college-girl format. They were trying to go to Target. The bus runs past Target. In fact, the street on which Target is located is the actual name of the bus. As a map would show, the bus runs down this street, and pretty much only this street, absolutely forever until it gets way out into nearly suburban territory near the Metra station and the forest preserve.

So the girls have a little slip of paper with Target's address. And they are still losing their tiny minds, "Did we miss it? Did we go too far?" and peering out the window and panicking, "I can't read the house numbers! What does that say?" I am trying to ignore them but the "did we miss it" comment is kind of pushing me over the edge. As gently as I can, I turn to the girl closest to me and say, "You aren't going to miss it."

Girl: What?
Me: Target is on this street. Just keep looking out the window. I's Target. It's not little.
Girl [maybe starting to get a clue]: Oh. Yeah. Thanks.

The idea of the small, hard-to-find, boutique Target still makes me laugh. "Tucked away on a quiet corner is this well-kept secret, an American superstore chain measuring only about 100,000 square feet...those 'in the know' will enjoy low prices on a variety of national brands."


While I am telling public-transit stories (a subject that ranks very highly in the frequency-of-mention concordance to this diary, slightly behind Nora anecdotes and slightly ahead of tentacle porn), I also wish to complain about the people who keep on sitting next to you after seats become available elsewhere. Many times I have been trapped on the inside seat on a nearly empty bus or train with a stranger squished up next to my thigh. I can sort of see not moving if you are getting off very shortly, or have a ton of bags and other crap, but I have ridden for blocks and blocks all cozy with my unwanted seatmate even though he/she clearly had other options. Why are strangers so reluctant to leave my side and sit on their own? Do I have a comforting maternal presence? Do I smell nice?


1. This has stupid music and is way too long, but the first minute on mute practically had me weeping for joy that the NFL is back. I am not ashamed to satisfy my bloodlust in this socially approved manner. Let's get out there and knock over some athletes for my viewing pleasure!

2. Informal poll for those who shave their armpits: do you use shaving cream? I have always used soap and I am not sure why, I guess because I was already washing the pits with soap and it seemed like one-stop shopping to just grab the razor right then. But the other day I got wacky in the shower and used shaving cream and now my pits are shockingly soft and smooth, I could probably shelter baby hamsters in there or something. Which is probably a Japanese anime fetish all in itself. Oh dear, full circle back to hentai yet again.

---mimi smartypants blames society.


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