So Long and Thanks for All the Boobies

I started typing this morning, waxing philosophical about the end of a personal era, first day of the rest of my life, and blah blah blah.

But that would be NO FUN to read at all.

SO - Train People . . . what have I forgotten?

And you outsiders, if you'd like me to explain any of this, send a note, but there's no way to explain EVERY LAST thing...

Highlights of 2.5 years of train commuting.

Aquaman - He'd had a bit too much (a lot too much) to drink before he got on the train, poured water on himself on the train, looked as if peed himself (but didn't really), caused people to think he was going to die.

The time we convinced two cute college girls to be so extremely interested in me just to cause Skidmark to have a conniption.

When we invented the word PAHL (pronounced 'paul') - which means ignorant.

Too many shots at a number of happy hours.

The time one person got so very drunk and started groping people on the Metro.

Juice nights - a big batch of left over liqour in a cooler with a hint of flavoring.

When I turned on the charm to attract a female, just to show I had more game than someone else. "But Chuck, you don't even LIKE girls!"

The slow motion spiraling shower of beer onto the four guys in the corner.

Joke of the day!

When Fez would look left and right and lower his voice before whispering "Penis."

The oh so forward sexual advances of a number of females.

$50 dollars for every time I have to tell the spouse of a commuter "I don't know."

The surreptitious advances of a handful of males.

Waltzing with Chris.

Kissing the girls.

The Great Race of Brunswick.

Spikey-blonde-haired bitter bible bitch.

Acknowledgement of So Do Ku mastery.

Beer, beer, beer.

Boobies, boobies, boobies. (Who needs 'em?)


Fox News.

Knitting for friends.

The beer bottle trick that makes the boys squirm.

The tongue trick that makes the girls squirm.

Camaraderie.

The Ball Gag.

Ann's color commentary.

The Train Names - Fatal Attraction, Ultra-Donkey, Goldilocks, Man Hands, Girl Chris, Boy Chris, Tattoo Chris, Wine Kelly a.k. Blonde Kelly, SS, Fez, Skidmark, Doogie, Teflon Don, Firewall, GMC Truck Guy, Runs-Like-A-Girl, Business Suit Guy, Banana Guy, Subject Matter Expert, Griz/Hagrid, Labia, Mister Slave, Apple Bottom, Frat Boy, Kennedy, Clown Butt a.k.a. Man from Behind, The Broad, Pitty Pat a.k.a. Jamaica Pat, The Cooking Channel, Eye Candy, KY, . . .

When I stumped a politician on the same-sex marriage issue.

Heat Restrictions.

Ugly, scary and endless baby pictures (UGH.)

Henry's weather announcement.

The Llamacidal Maniac.

The many reasons that Skidmark's gay.

The woman who told me I needed sensitivity training.

The Fart Machine.

Thanks, Mom

I still get those Cuddly hang in there Kitten prayers about Jesus, a Nigerian banker, who loves me and needs help moving money to an account in the name of a terminally ill little boy in Kansas whose touching final wish was to create an e-mail that did something really cool when you forward it to ten of your friends within five minutes or days otherwise something absolutely terrible would happen as was the case of the barely legal girls girls girls who got pregnant sniffing the perfume card in a mall parking lot where one could buy natural penis enhancers that may have already been won by the lonely Russian girl who wants to be my myspace friend only can't work the layout so you have to click through to her adult profile where my computer gets infected with a worm similar to the ones that cause inexpensive breast enhancements which, like our troops, require support in the way of adding your name and forwarding to all your friends the petition to right the terrible loss of "In God We Trust" from all of the pennies you may consider donating to my scholarship fund.

Marlboro Country

I'm walking around the house on tippy-toe and eggshells because my hubby is quitting smoking. I'm very proud of the progress he is making and to help, we've moved all the ashtrays to the front porch and have banned smoking in the house.

I do notice that I smoke less when I am home now, because I have to go outside. And, I too will follow in the footsteps of reformed smokers, but not until after my wonderful husband has returned to normal.
He's not being mean. There have been no fights or huge disagreements. He's just focused on the cigarettes he's NOT having. I'll get the usual kiss when I come home from work, but instead of sensing "I love you," the message I read is "I could be smoking now."

The only thing I know to do is stay out of his way. So, I slip upstairs and knit in front of the cartoons until it's time for bed. Occasionally I venture back through the house to the kitchen for a beer and whisper a nervous but supportive "I love you" or blow a kiss if I pass near, but my eyes betray my fear "He's going to kill me in my sleep."

His lips automatically form "I love you, too." but his eyes ask "Where's the ammo?" And I escape back to the Cartoon Network.


We have had a couple conversations about our quitting process. We understand that there are going to be some INTENSE situations resulting from our severe behavior modification. So we've come up with a code word. Lllover. You have to drag (not roll) the L when you say it..."I'm going to watch cartoons, Lllover.

When used by him it means:
I love you. Your mere presence grates on my very last nerve.
If you're doing something annoying - All of my patience normally displayed in this situation has been sacrificed to focus on not smoking.
If you're NOT doing something annoying - You're just in my sphere of discontent.
I will love you when this is all over.

When used by me:
I love you. Your mere presence grates on my very last nerve.
I'm trying to be very supportive and loving here - and realize that to keep from shooting you myself - I need to be in another room.
I will love you when this is all over.
Remember this when I am quitting.

Oh boy, I'm not looking forward to my turn. Where he is passively, silently brooding, I'm actively evil and calculating. I hope he can endure.

I figure a great time for me to begin my quitting process is my first week away from the office. No longer will I have the familiar routine of a smoke
walking to the train
before boarding the train,
deboarding the train,
after the Metro
with 10:00 coffee
on the way to lunch
back from lunch
with 2:00 coffee
before the Metro
before boarding the train,
walking home
before dinner
after dinner and
a few while watching TV.

So, as my routine will change drastically, it's a good time to quit, don't you think?