This morning marked another incident where I suffered from a moment of partial retardation.  When I was getting on the T, it was crowded as usual, so I grabbed onto the pole...or so I thought.  After a good ten seconds or so, I began to wonder why the pole was wiggling and felt unstable.  For some reason, I was thinking it was just loose, but a second later, I realized that couldn't be possible.  When I turned my head towards the pole I was holding onto, I saw that it wasn't a pole at all.  Instead, I had been holding onto this man's lacrosse stick.  He was standing lower than me on the step by the door, holding a gym bag with the metal handle sticking straight up into the air.  I was so out of it this morning, I didn't really pay attention to what I had grabbed onto and just assumed his sport stick was the pole.  Yeah...that was embarrassing, and it was even worse that he didn't say anything when I apologized and let go of his stick...

Later this afternoon, while taking my lunch break, I was walking outside in the crowded street.  I felt something tickling my hand, so I looked to see what it was a noticed an insect and started having mini heartattacks.  In a wild frenzy, I flung my hand back violently to throw the bug off my hand and ended up hitting a man in the balls.  Apparently, he was walking beside me but a little behind me, and when I thrusted my arm back, I managed to get him right between the legs as he took his step forward.  He clutched his private area for dear life and bent forward a little.  I felt the heat in my face (as if I wasn't already hot from the beaming sun) rise, and I couldn't even apologize normally.  I broke out into this stutter and after stumbling over the "S" a few times, "sorry" eventually came out of my mouth.  I just don't get why I always seem to be in the wrong place at the wrong time doing strange things. 

Windy cities are not so friendly, especially when you don't have an enclosed mode of transportation and you're required to walk everywhere.  I don't even know why I bother to fix my hair when it ends up looking like a lion's mane at the end of the day.  And Sunday, for the first time in a very long time, I decided to dress like a nice young lady.  I had a cute little summer dress on and my hair was down and groomed.  As I'm walking down Boylston, mother nature decided to blow her evil gusts at me, causing my dress to blow in between my legs.  Might I add that a dress or skirt tucked tightly in a girl's crotch is NOT attractive in any way.  Everytime I kept trying to pull my dress out from between my legs, the wind just kept blowing it right back.  I should have just worn pants.  Maybe from now on, I'll just wear pants and a swim cap on my head to keep any hairs from blowing onto the cornea of my eye.  Also, lip gloss is overrated.  It only looks good and stays put indoors.  The outdoors is no place to be wearing lipgloss, especially in windy cities.  In my case, my hair blows all over the place and sticks to my lips, and as I'm dragging the hair off my lips, it leaves that sticky residue on the side of my face.  I end up with more lipgloss on the ends of my hair than on my lips.  I should invent "nonstick lipgloss for women with long hair who like to look sexy in windy cities."  The end.  Now back to work.

When I'm walking through a busy city street, I just wish people would move out of the way.  It's busy for a reason, and that means there is no time to be daydreaming and smelling the flowers.  I hate crowds and walking behind people who think they own the sidewalk.  Thus, I'm usually not in the most pleasant mood when I'm walking around in a crowded city.  I'm like a bull in a china shop when it comes to citylife: inside, I just want to put on my horns and knock people over like bowling pins but, obviously, that doesn't happen.  Instead, I've got my angry face mask on, and I give people the evil eye.  At the peak of my anger, if looks could kill, the whole city would be dead.  I just thought I'd share how disgruntled I get when people disregard the presence of others and have no couth when it comes to city life etiquette.  You don't just come to an abrupt halt in the middle of the walk path to greet a friend or make a phone call.  Move to the side or go to a dark alley to take care of all that friendly business.  Geezus.  The end.

Of all the times I've ridden the T in the past four years, nothing compares to the incident that occurred this morning.  I mean, I've had my fair share of falls on the T, but usually those occurred when I was with a friend, someone I could laugh with when I found my face meeting the floor.  This morning, I stood at the very back of the T since it was rush hour, and there was no where else to go.  You know how there are those single seats that face the windows?  Well, I was holding onto the bar right by that seat, listening to my music, minding my own business.  I'm not sure if the T driver was in a bad mood and was deliberately breaking so violently or if he felt like taking the passengers on a rollercoaster ride, giving us whiplash, but I soon found myself swinging sideways on the pole like a retarded pole dancer.  My bag slipped off my shoulder, disconnecting my earphones from my iPod, and before I knew it, I was sitting down.  I somehow managed to swing all the way around and land on the seat situated beside the pole.  Too bad there was a man sitting there, and my sudden presence on his lap startled him.  There I was, sitting on a stranger's lap, earphones still dangling, bag on the floor, people around chuckling.  The worse part was when I tried to stand up and slipped on my bag and fell right back down on the man's lap.  I was a wreck, and the fact that this occurred during rush hour on a packed T just made everything seem worse.  AND, because I'm socially awkward at times, I started talking to myself, the way I normally do when something embarrassing happens to me.  Wow, what a morning for me.

For the first time in 4 years, my hair is ALL natural right now.  I recently got it chopped off, meaning the dead ends from my previous magic straight perm are gone.  Even though my hair is pretty short right now, I love that it feels so healthy and thick again.  Although I'm not used to it sitting on my shoulders, it's better than sitting at work staring at the dead deep fried ends from the multiple perms I used to do every year.  Let's recap: freshman year in September, I got my first magic straight ever.  That lasted until September of sophomore year when I got a digital perm.  August before my junior year, I got another magic straight perm, then again in December (6months later), then AGAIN in July (7months later).  I mean, junior year was pretty bad...my hair didn't even have time to breathe and grow back healthily before I went in for another perm.  It's been almost a year since my last straight perm, and I think that was my last...at least for now.  I just want to see how my hair grows out naturally.  I already know my hair is naturally wavy in a bed head kind of way, which means I'll always have to blow dry it straight or straighten it with a straightener, but at least it's happy right now.  Yes, you heard me.  My HAIR is happy. =)

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