Express Train to Bitterville

It's been forever. Believe me, it is never my intention to go so long without blogging- it just sort of happens. I feel like in order to write a decent post, I have to be silly-angry. Lately, I've just been angry-angry and in no mood to bitch about the ways I feel I have been wronged on the interweb. Those complaints are best saved for face-to-face meetings, where my tears and angst can be appreciated to their fullest extent. Nor I am about to just blog for the sake of writing something. I'm hardly interested in my own daily happenings, a sentiment I imagine you, solitary reader, share. So, profound apologies.

A few things have been on my mind lately, thoughts ranging from the nominally serious to those with no importance or consequence whatsoever. And so, An Abbreviated List of the Things I Thought About This Month (in No Particular Order):

I. Green peas have no place in a salad.
The same goes for mandarin oranges. Nothing says "this salad will be disgusting" more than baby mandarin orange slices popping up behind intolerably large pieces of iceberg lettuce. In fact, calling mandarin oranges fruit is on par with calling a dust bunny a pet. Let's start labeling the cans appropriately- "Mushy Orange Shit (in heavy syrup)."

II. If you fart in an empty office and no one is around to hear you, does it make a sound?

III. Moving.
I saw a map of Denver, my place of origin, at the bookstore today and found myself getting surprisingly weepy and nostalgic. I am not taking this as one of those cinematic Signs From Above, but it is certainly weighing on my mind. In trying to navigate this post-collegiate haze of bill paying and general disenfranchisement, I wonder if I am not better suited for a quieter life back in that square state.

I miss the ease of driving a car, of not having to share a seat with large, sweaty men or girls dry heaving after a night of overpriced cocktails. That said, I do not miss the actual act of driving one bit, as my absentmindedness on the road would make that deep-voiced StateFarm man weep. (It's not my fault I only have two hands and a cell phone, a cup of coffee, and radio that all demand attention.) I miss the quiet that comes with urban sprawl, businesses that close at 7, and the peace after a good snowfall. Here, my ears are filled with the sounds of 8 million self-involved pricks scratching their way to the top. We live practically on top of one another, and there is no peace to be had after a good snow. No sir, there's nothing but gray slush and a collective bitch from those same 8 million about delayed trains. Colorado rarely made me angry, just sleepy from a general lack of things to do (unless you count beer drinking, mutton busting, and more beer drinking).

Walking in New York is fine, save for when it is infuriating. Fifty percent of my days are without major issue. Thirty percent of my days are with only a few minor issues. The other twenty percent make me want to take up sharpshooting. I stomp around with a dreadful scowl, continually ignoring the voice in my head that reminds me that such expressions cause wrinkles (and who wants those?). I can barely breathe without screaming, let alone form words and sentences. My head is filled with a noise that can best be described as what cutting the alphabet in half and letting the two sides beat the shit out of each other would sound like. It's unpleasant, distressing, and just plain annoying.

Speaking of sounds, I am afraid I must cut this little rant short. The leaping gazelles that live above me have begun their nightly romp, reminding me that it is almost midnight and I have to go to work in the morning. To be continued.