It Must Be February --or-- I LOVE THE TTC....(and Aimee Mann, too)

And if I say it enough times, I might actually believe it.

So, after yet another winter storm, I was delayed quite a lot by transit this morning, and didn't arrive at work until 10 a.m.

I've probably said it before: I consider myself a very patient person. There is absolutely no reason to get angry about a delay or a packed subway train because the only other option is to drive or take a cab, and I'm not doing that.

But when the driver of the 122 bus I normally take slammed the door in my face when I was a meter away from stepping on, I actually screamed and hulked out.

I don't recall much of what ensued, but when I awoke from my haze, my clothes were strategically torn and the mess of overturned army tanks scattered around signaled I was, perhaps, not happy with my commute.

(At left is an artist's rendition of me.)

After that freak out, I was fine, and back down to my usual level of brimming rage. It was very refreshing to release a little of it upon the unsuspecting populace, much like a spring shower, or a colonic.

On the way home, the subway driver explained the problem: there were 9 subway trains out of commission today...that's 1500 bodies per train, times 9....so you can imagine what the platforms were like. I thought it was very honest and appreciated that we got an explanation.

That's all I really want to hear, most days--an explanation. Some kind of account of why I am subjected to the radiant malice of other commuters who gripe about traveling, even though they could be in worse situations. Like this, or this, or this....

(Just for a little perspective, you understand.)

See, it's all part of my life philosophy, best described by Bobby Ferrin...Don't Worry, Be Happy (because someone somewhere is way more fucked than you are).

Yeah, he didn't write that part in. It wasn't commercial enough.

That, my friends, is why Aimee Mann is the best thing to listen to in the mornings on your commute. Because you can always count on her angsty, nonconformist lyrics to remind you that, while your life sucks, it could always, always be worse.

Now, who's up for some heavy drinking?

Who would YOU rather?

At a bachelorette party my sister attended recently, the girls played "Who would you rather...?"

Girl A: Who would you rather--Stephen Harper or George Bush?

All: Stephen Harper!

Girl B: Yeah, I'd rather have a robot than an idiot.

Today is John's Birthday!

Happiest Birthday to the love of my life, my better half, my brain and nervous system, my heart, my soul, my lungs, and even my bowels. I love you so much!

Go read his blog and wish him the best. BECAUSE I TOLD YOU SO.

Perverted

This morning, John says to me:

"Do you know what 'perverse incentive' is?"

I say no, and he goes on to explain it.

And then he says, "This--" and he holds up his New Year's red pocket money up "--is perverse incentive not to marry you."

I managed not to throw my toothbrush at him. It's bad luck on New Year's to speak ill of anyone or conduct yourself poorly, after all.

(I love you so much, John.)

Photoshop sez: Happy New Year!

Best wishes for the year of the rat!