Let's see, I'm going to take the boys to see that "...Dragons" movie tomorrow, I think. They should enjoy that. I'd also like to research netbooks -- I think that might be just what I need to solve my current tech issues with my writing "in the field." (i.e., no fucking laptop) Not that I haven't enjoyed writing longhand -- I actually do like writing in notebooks, but in terms of output, I type so much faster than I write by hand, it's a matter of efficiency, here. I've been working steadily on the book, although I'm uncertain of the word count because it's handwritten -- I'll transcribe my week's work onto the computer at home, another weekend enterprise.
Sunday, Exene should be taking the boys to a Cub Scouts outing, so I may actually shop for the netbook I was looking for, and catch "The Hurt Locker" (FINALLY).
Of course, my usual routine of exercise, cooking some yummy food, and taking photographs of everything that catches my eye will be in play.
Friday, March 26, 2010
Busin'ess
I was amused on the busride home yesterday. Well, a few things. On the first leg of my ride, I was at a bus stop with a bunch of international students from U of C, including a few Austrians -- it was funny to hear the accents as they were talking about navigating the transit system downtown: "You mekh sure you get zee tranzfer on zee first part of zee ride. Zat iss how vee do it in Austria, anyvay."
That group got on another bus, while I caught mine a moment later. There wasn't anything particularly amusing on the first bus. When I got off, I saw my connecting bus, and I ran to catch it, but the bus took off right before I got there, didn't stop. Love when they do that.
Piqued at being thwarted in classic CTA fashion, I ran two blocks north up the street to get ahead of the bus that had ditched me and caught it at the next stop. I was very satisfied to have done that, rather than waiting X minutes in the blustery cold for the next bus (it was frickin' cold yesterday, I should add, and terribly windy).
On my second bus, I was treated to an amusing exchange by a couple of Lincoln Park Trixies (well, once Trixie and her friend, who lived in the Gold Coast). Both of them had the kind of atonal raspy voice of casual smokers (sounding something like, I dunno, Margot Kidder), and Trixie was seriously bottle-blonded, overtanned, and had incredibly white teeth, while Gold Coast had overplucked eyebrows and a face that reminded me of a female Corey Feldman. Both of them were average-looking, but well-dressed (not particularly stylishly, but they clearly had good jobs, if no real style to them). Their conversation went on and on and on. I'll try to capture what I remembered about it (again, delivered in that seal-like bray)...
LP Trixie: So, I tried to get X to take me out again, but he totally didn't.
Gold Coast: No?
LPT: I sent him a note, and he didn't reply.
GC: Maybe he was busy.
LPT: I dunno.
GC: Wait, was this a text?
LPT: E-mail. I tried to get him to take me somewhere, but he totally ignored it.
GC: How long's it been?
LPT: Well, like almost two weeks since we first, you know, got together.
GC: (laughing) And you've gone out how many times?
LPT: Once at [XYZ], once at [ABC], and we hung out at his place. He mentioned [DEF] but I was like "Dude, isn't that a bar?" (scoffs)
GC: I don't know. Depends on the time you go.
LPT: It's totally a bar. I wanted to go someplace sit-down, a nice place. You know, like what normal people do, like boyfriend-girlfriend stuff. And so I jokingly e-mailed him and he didn't reply.
GC: Maybe he doesn't have any money?
LPT: Oh, he does. He threw down $150 at the bar last time.
GC: Hmmm, yeah, you throw that much down, you can definitely afford a dinner.
LPT: I know, right?
GC: Unless he just blew it all at the bar.
LPT: Maybe he just doesn't like to DO stuff; maybe he's just a 'hanging out' kinda guy. Like he called the other day and was like "I'm watching the OSU game with the guys; you wanna come hang out?" and I was like "No, thanks." And now, like nothing.
GC: Maybe you shouldn't have shot down his suggestion you go to [DEF.] (laughs)
LPT: Yeah, maybe. I'm trying not to overthink it. I mean, he really likes me, I can tell, but it's just weird, like why he doesn't, you know, want to do stuff with me. (keeps checking her iPhone during all of this)
GC: Well, we can catch "Crazyheart" Friday, after we go shopping. How about that?
LPT: Alright; I asked him if he wanted to see it, and he's like "Yeah" but then nothing happened. Am I supposed to set everything up or what? I don't know what his deal is.
GC: Maybe he's just quiet.
LPT: Sure, but, you know, he doesn't seem to want to know, like, anything ABOUT me. Like he doesn't ask me about my day, or anything. He likes me, I can tell, but, like, doesn't, like, TALK to me about ME, you know?
GC: My stop's coming up; don't overthink it. I'm sure you guys'll work something out. Like you said, you've known him for, what, almost two weeks? (laughs)
LPT: Yeah (laughs) Seeya later!
And then LPT continued to text on her iPhone obsessively until she got off at her stop (and then kept going, like texting and walking).
That group got on another bus, while I caught mine a moment later. There wasn't anything particularly amusing on the first bus. When I got off, I saw my connecting bus, and I ran to catch it, but the bus took off right before I got there, didn't stop. Love when they do that.
Piqued at being thwarted in classic CTA fashion, I ran two blocks north up the street to get ahead of the bus that had ditched me and caught it at the next stop. I was very satisfied to have done that, rather than waiting X minutes in the blustery cold for the next bus (it was frickin' cold yesterday, I should add, and terribly windy).
On my second bus, I was treated to an amusing exchange by a couple of Lincoln Park Trixies (well, once Trixie and her friend, who lived in the Gold Coast). Both of them had the kind of atonal raspy voice of casual smokers (sounding something like, I dunno, Margot Kidder), and Trixie was seriously bottle-blonded, overtanned, and had incredibly white teeth, while Gold Coast had overplucked eyebrows and a face that reminded me of a female Corey Feldman. Both of them were average-looking, but well-dressed (not particularly stylishly, but they clearly had good jobs, if no real style to them). Their conversation went on and on and on. I'll try to capture what I remembered about it (again, delivered in that seal-like bray)...
LP Trixie: So, I tried to get X to take me out again, but he totally didn't.
Gold Coast: No?
LPT: I sent him a note, and he didn't reply.
GC: Maybe he was busy.
LPT: I dunno.
GC: Wait, was this a text?
LPT: E-mail. I tried to get him to take me somewhere, but he totally ignored it.
GC: How long's it been?
LPT: Well, like almost two weeks since we first, you know, got together.
GC: (laughing) And you've gone out how many times?
LPT: Once at [XYZ], once at [ABC], and we hung out at his place. He mentioned [DEF] but I was like "Dude, isn't that a bar?" (scoffs)
GC: I don't know. Depends on the time you go.
LPT: It's totally a bar. I wanted to go someplace sit-down, a nice place. You know, like what normal people do, like boyfriend-girlfriend stuff. And so I jokingly e-mailed him and he didn't reply.
GC: Maybe he doesn't have any money?
LPT: Oh, he does. He threw down $150 at the bar last time.
GC: Hmmm, yeah, you throw that much down, you can definitely afford a dinner.
LPT: I know, right?
GC: Unless he just blew it all at the bar.
LPT: Maybe he just doesn't like to DO stuff; maybe he's just a 'hanging out' kinda guy. Like he called the other day and was like "I'm watching the OSU game with the guys; you wanna come hang out?" and I was like "No, thanks." And now, like nothing.
GC: Maybe you shouldn't have shot down his suggestion you go to [DEF.] (laughs)
LPT: Yeah, maybe. I'm trying not to overthink it. I mean, he really likes me, I can tell, but it's just weird, like why he doesn't, you know, want to do stuff with me. (keeps checking her iPhone during all of this)
GC: Well, we can catch "Crazyheart" Friday, after we go shopping. How about that?
LPT: Alright; I asked him if he wanted to see it, and he's like "Yeah" but then nothing happened. Am I supposed to set everything up or what? I don't know what his deal is.
GC: Maybe he's just quiet.
LPT: Sure, but, you know, he doesn't seem to want to know, like, anything ABOUT me. Like he doesn't ask me about my day, or anything. He likes me, I can tell, but, like, doesn't, like, TALK to me about ME, you know?
GC: My stop's coming up; don't overthink it. I'm sure you guys'll work something out. Like you said, you've known him for, what, almost two weeks? (laughs)
LPT: Yeah (laughs) Seeya later!
And then LPT continued to text on her iPhone obsessively until she got off at her stop (and then kept going, like texting and walking).
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