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August 6th, 2010

~Friday~  I remember flying into the Raleigh-Durham airport once, and sitting beside me was a young man from the plains of the Midwest coming to this area for the first time. As we flew over the Falls Lake area in North Raleigh, he was looking out the window and exclaimed, "Wow. I can't believe how green it is here."

And that is what I tried to be thankful for this morning with the humidity once again approaching 90%, but noticing all the very green grass and trees that surround my bus stop.


This is assuming, of course, that high humidity does indeed contribute to more or better green growth. If there is no cause and effect relationship there, I think I'd rather just not see the forest for the trees.

At a subsequent stop to mine, a man got on and asked the bus driver where a particular medical-related state agency building was, and before the driver could answer, two passengers sitting within hearing distance started talking over one another giving him directions. When she could, the bus driver jumped in, too. Such a cackling cacophony.

A decent-looking, height-weight proportional, white guy got on at the McKimmon Center, and when he stood at the fare machine, I was totally caught off-guard at the size of his butt. I mean it wasn't huge, but it was just so unexpected.



I can never see a bodacious butt without thinking of this song, which just cracks me up every time I hear it:





I had a quiet work day today, most of which I spent finishing up editing a Web site for someone in our organization.

At lunch time, I got out my bologna sandwich from our work refrigerator. I'd actually made it yesterday morning, but forgot about it and ordered Subway for lunch, so saved it for today. It was filled with a lot of sharp cheddar cheese, of which I'd bought two large bags (buy one get one free) and had put one in my freezer. All that is to say that I couldn't see the bologna as I ate it.

When I took a bite of the last fourth of the sandwich, I noticed big brown rings in the middle of the pink bologna, and I immediately spit out what I was chewing, wondering how much of what I'd already eaten was like that, too. WTF??? It was only one day, and the sandwich was in the fridge. I don't get it. Could it have been something to do with the fact that the package was marked down twice, for "quick sale."



I have a colleague, Henry, who goes through the comics at home and cuts out the ones he finds humorous. He then passes them to my boss, who in turn passes them to me. There's often 10-15 in the pile each time. Here are three from the most recent pile that I would deem "gems," as they speak directly to my kind of humor:









I caught the 5:30 city bus home, where there was the littlest of girls listening to an MP3 player. I only had one chance to get this picture, and I saw that it was a little blurry after I took it, but she took the earbuds out right afterwards, so I couldn't take another one. Talk about starting them young!


I'm not quite sure what social services would have thought about this, as the little girl's mother was sitting separately, but in the seat next to her (that's her knee in the picture), but she was slumped over and sound asleep most of the way. At one point, that little girl got up and was walking and bending over on that seat.



The first thing I did when I got home was to throw out the rest of that discount bologna, even though a thorough inspection of it revealed no brown spots. Strange. But not worth taking any chances for a $1.79.

I had a relaxing evening in, and got to bed early. Yay!

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