This woman

This woman, featured on CNN.com today, strangled her son at a playground, resuscitated him, then thought better of that, and strangled him to death, then buried him in the sand. Now, I'm sure that she has deep-rooted mental problems, but my question is, after you kill your own child, HOW do you have the wherewithal (and steady hand) to pencil in your (gross) eyebrows like that?

Debbie Downer

Something about Facebook today (maybe seeing the faces of friends from elementary school) reminded me of how much violence there is in school, even where I went upstate. The school bus was always the worst. And it disturbs me that I can't remember the name of the douche nozzle who held a knife to my throat against the bus window (I only vaguely remember his face), or the dude who kicked me (really hard) in the crotch on the playground for no apparent reason. I don't remember why I didn't report either of those, or why I didn't tell anyone about the fight I got into on the bus in fourth grade with a girl named Katie, who kicked me in the stomach multiple times. My older brother got into dumb fights all the time. But it's disturbing to me that even at that young age, I had been physically attacked twice by male students. I wonder if that's normal, or average. Maybe I was just lucky.

Those were my only brushes with school violence, and they all happened before middle school. But there were so many fights in the cafeteria too, and the auditorium.

Anywho. Ramblings.

Elevator Staff for the MTA

At my subway stop, one has a choice to make: to go through the tunnel, and up a huge hill, or to take the elevator. For me, the elevator wins every time, as the tunnel is really long and dark and creepy, and the hill is very steep.

Lucky for me, one of the four elevators (one or two of which actually work at any given time) has an MTA elevator operator. I see these people daily, and each one of them makes me happy in a different way. No, really, I'm serious for once.

The first guy is a jolly fat man, with large bifocals and gray hair. He is gregarious and seems to enjoy his work. All day long, you can hear him saying, "everybody ready now, everybody ready? here we go! next elevator please!"

The second guy is an opera aficionado. Brings in a small boombox and blasts La Boheme. Doesn't talk.

The third guy pasted up a picture of Barack Obama with the headline "Change Has Come", and mostly does crosswords.

The fourth operator is a woman who doesn't talk much, seems really bitter/irritated, and I like her because she is comfortingly normal.

To the elevator operators: the unsung heroes of the MTA.

Newspaper Tourism

I'm angry, folks. I am angry about the fact that whenever a special Obama event happens, I cannot get a copy of the New York Times ANYWHERE. Those of you who know me also know that I read the paper pretty much daily, and like to do the crossword on my morning commute.

But...there are people (maybe you are one of them) who buy the paper on special occasions, just to look at the front cover, and maybe frame it. These people probably don't even bother with the rest of the paper that I would like to read.

Newspaper tourists!You want to experience a little bit of the New York Times, at a time and day of your choosing, without really getting to know it. You do the main attraction, then go back to your Daily News or Post for comfort.

I know what you're going to say, but I've done the subscription thing already, and I find that I actually receive the paper more regularly if I go out and buy it myself, rather than relying on a delivery person and the honesty of my neighbors.

So here's my suggestion to you newspaper tourists: take the front page, if you must. And leave the rest of the paper on the train for the natives like myself.

arts for transit

Why is it that the MTA insists on likening our trains to animals? First (and unendingly) we have dumb bunny:



Now, for 2008 (yeah, theyre a little behind. dumb bunny was 2006 and it's still up in some cars), we have ugly fish:



I travel to work in a big silver box, just like millions of others New Yorkers. Don't try to make my commute look fun or exciting or cartoony. I'm not having a "wild ride", I'm not surrounded by other sane-looking if wind-blown people on their way to la-la land. I'm hanging onto a metal pole teeming with bacteria, a few feet away from a homeless man teeming with the same. If anything, make a depiction of the train as a bacterium.

Something I can't get behind

Every night, as I am getting all toasty warm and ready for bed, I hear alley cats crying outside. It makes me so very, very sad. Sometimes they are just crying. Other times it sounds as though they are being attacked by something or someone. Poor widdle kitties. :(

Am I the only one...

...who's noticed the weirdly violent headlines The Onion has been running about G.W. Bush for the past few months? Some of them aren't even clever or funny. It's like someone punked the Onion.

Bush's Eyelid Accidentally Nailed to Wall

Bush Passes Three Pound Kidney Stone

Weird, right?