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~Wednesday~  I caught the #9 Greek Village Wolfline bus in this morning, and tracked its progress to my stop on my BlackBerry via this website.

Shortly after I arrived at the Kaplan/Gorman stop to wait for the bus, a young lady wearing a backpack walked up to the stop and stood within hearing distance of me. Poor thing. About five minutes later, a guy walked up and stood next to her and this conversation ensued:

He: "I came out of the bedroom and you were gone."

She: "I told you I was going out."

He: "Well, yesterday I had you up and out here in plenty of time."

She: "Yeah, but sometimes you're easily distracted, like this morning, and I didn't want to miss the bus."

Once on the bus, a quick scan of the 20 people revealed a "diverse crowd" this morning: 8 White, 3 Asian, 2 Black, 1 Middle Eastern, 5 Indian, and 1 Hispanic.

I got to work quite early this morning. I didn't mention that it was the 7:00 Wolfline bus that I'd caught in.

I had one meeting today, which was at 9:00, and for which I had a good hour-and-a-half worth of work to do in prep for. Hence the early morning start.

On my way out of my building at the end of the day, I noted the cop cars surrounding the Wachovia bank, which is about three buildings down from mine on Hillsborough Street. This is the same bank that was robbed recently—just last month if I'm not mistaken. And not much before that the credit union, a little bit farther in the opposite direction, and the one in front of which I stand to catch the city bus, was robbed. Story: Police: Wachovia hold-up might be work of serial robber. Crazy.

I caught the #9 Greek Village Wolfline bus and at the Carmichael Recreation Center stop, an Indian guy got on and took the seat beside me. As I looked down at my BlackBerry, which was resting in my lap, I saw something move beyond it out of the corner of my eye. Shifting my gaze, I saw a fly going on, around, and in between the Indian guy's exposed toes. I kept expecting him to kick it in reflex, but I don't think he ever realized it was there.

I'm subscribed to A.Word.A.Day, and over the past month or so there have been two different words as their "Word of the Day" that are very close in meaning to that of Sophie's Choice. One is Morton's Fork, and the other is Buridan's Ass. Interesting.

I asked this of my fellow salon members: "When used in the following way: 'She's such a bitch; bless her heart,' what rhetorical device is the clause 'bless her heart' employing?"

I just loved Anna's response: "[R]eference to her heart as representative of her whole self is synecdoche (my fav trope). Intent of the expression feels like garden variety irony, or maybe tragic irony (depends on how your garden grows). Or, maybe some variant of paradiastole? As rendered, you are softening the force of the epithet 'bitch.'"

Such a beautiful thing.

I immediately went over to Save The Words to adopt paradiastole, but much to my chagrin, it was not available for adoption. sad face "Pick me!" "Hey! Over here!" "Yo!" "Me, me!" "Choose me!" God, I love that site.

Once home, I ran to K-Mart to pick up my Nexium refill and to look at picture frames, but I didn't see one I loved there.

I ran to the Target at Crossroads Plaza, where I had no luck finding "tri-fold, horizontal, 4x6 frames," but I did find a great 14" x 18" one for a poster my parents saw in a restaurant back in February after which I ordered.

Dancing was fun enough tonight. Geromy's mom was in attendance, there was a somewhat decent crowd there, and I had several nice two-steps including ones with: Bill, Geromy, Michael (I think), and two with Rob.

Carl taught the Bumpers line-dance, and there were about eight people out there taking the lesson, so that was good.

Van played a version of the Simon and Garfunkel song, Homeward Bound, sung by Janie Fricke, which I just loved.

I left there at 11:00.


( 5 comments — Leave a comment )
Jun. 4th, 2010 12:50 pm (UTC)
blogger's license, revisionist history, or shooting for a PG rating?
Ah, John, you flatter me again! Can't help but notice how your, um, colorful in-the-moment response to my rhetorical analysis morphed into "Such a beautiful thing." :-)

Rhetoric is a thing of beauty, though.

Jun. 4th, 2010 01:11 pm (UTC)
Re: blogger's license, revisionist history, or shooting for a PG rating?

You trying to get a rise out of me? :-) Consider yourself successful with that subject line!

Thanks for your devoted reading and commenting!

P.S. Friday's entry will contain a buscapade thought that briefly explores the "revisionist history" in a sense. Stay tuned.

Edited at 2010-06-04 01:47 pm (UTC)
Jun. 4th, 2010 03:50 pm (UTC)
I used to date a guy who was the two-stepping champeen of a bar in Chicago. I knew nothing about two-stepping so I started taking lessons at that bar (hey, they were free) and I suddenly found him being mighty jealous of my time and attention.

Have to admit, it's fun and probably the most intimate partner dance I've ever done. But when you do one of those circle things where you switch partners every few steps, don't start with a jealous partner, that's all I'm saying.

I think the oddest/most interesting thing I learned in those lessons is how to quick-step in a manly way. I can still hear the instructor saying "step, don't mince!"
Jun. 4th, 2010 07:26 pm (UTC)
Re: two-stepping

LOL, mince! God forbid we should mince! Too funny!

And, ah yes, The Barn Dance, my most favorite dance where the follows rotate around the entire circle of dancers at the big hoedowns. The best part of that is the flirting! Whenever I do that dance (and I can lead or follow), I always slap the lead on the ass just before I move on. :-) Thanks for bringing back memories for me!

And thanks for your continued reading and commenting!
Jun. 4th, 2010 08:36 pm (UTC)
Re: two-stepping
Uh oh, my nemesis jealousy is going to rear his ugly head.

I can lead, but I can't follow. I think following is much harder than leading since you have to do everything backwards AND anticipate what the lead is going to do. And let's don't mince, god forbid. Doesn't look good in a stetson and boots, does it? Well, it didn't look good to the caller and I got called out on it enough times, so I suppose I'm a product of my conditioning.

And... I see we are of a like mind when it comes to The Barn Dance. I am an incurable flirt, it's gotten me into so much trouble with people who can't tell the difference between a polite compliment and a come-on. Dios mio.

And, you're welcome. I've only been to the Raleigh area a few times so of course I enjoy reading more about what's doing there.
( 5 comments — Leave a comment )



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