Nice try, dude

Stopped by the Ghetto Giant on the way home from work last night (it's a crummy, neglected store, hence the nickname; near, but different from, the Bang-Bang Giant, which had a recent shooting). I got in a line where the woman in front was just finishing paying; behind her was a woman with a teenage girl. I got behind them.

A guy carrying takeout containers came up behind me and said "Excuse me" (not polite excuse me, but you-made-me-miss-my-train-you-left-side-escalator-standing-jerk excuse me) and got in front of me. I assumed he was with the woman and the girl, and they'd decided once they got in line to get takeout and he ran back for it. So I let him through.

Then he tried to go around the woman. (Note: I would NOT have messed with this woman. Her motto probably is "large and in charge.") She put her hands on her hips, blocked him and said, with much sassy head-bobbing, "I don't THINK so."

Me: Is he with you?

Her: HELL no.

I gave him the shrug/upturned palms/raised eyebrows that are the international symbol for "What the hell?", and pointed behind me.

Shamed -- and rightfully so -- he slunk away to a different line. With no cutting, this time.

finally! photos!

It's by no means all my trip photos (I've gotta spring for the premium flickr site), but here are a few Australia pics to whet your appetite:

http://www.flickr.com/photos/16115534@N00/

update on trip photos

I FINALLY uploaded my photos into my laptop, and I have some great ones, including a shot of the Sydney Opera House that's postcard-worthy.

I totally intended to put them all in Flickr, caption them, e-mail them to people, etc. I did!

Cross my heart, my DSL has been down all week. As soon as Verizon gets the problem fixed, photos are my first priority.

perspective, thanks to a packed train

Lately I've been frustrated at work -- I feel like I'm carrying the whole paper on my shoulders some days. I'm constantly fixing misspelled headlines, glaring factual errors, horrid cutline writing, and a whole lot of Journalism 101 stuff that the editors I supervise should be catching, or not committing in the first place. Plus I'm stumbling onto duplicated stories, outdated stories, etc., mostly through dumb luck, and I start my week writing corrections for the problems that occured on my days off. I feel like I'm juggling a thousand balls and if I drop one, they'll all come tumbling down. I should be able to hand these balls off to the copy editors, but not only can a lot of them not juggle, but they're throwing more balls into the mix.

Anyway.

This morning, I was struggling to stay upright on a lurching, crowded train when I realized -- courtesy of a waft of cheap whiskey -- that the guy standing next to me was drunk. And from the looks of his nose (Karl Malden had nothing on this guy), being soused at 9 a.m. is probably an everyday occurence for him.

Perspective point one: I may have to remind my desk way too often to use spellcheck, but at least I don't supervise anyone who routinely shows up to work staggering drunk.

Perspective point two, courtesy of Stacy: I have my up and down days, but at least I don't hate my job so much that the only way to get through the day is to consume a box of Boone's Farm for breakfast.