and then THE TRAIN CAUGHT FIRE.
Apr. 5th, 2007 12:39 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
kageygirlIt's not a punch line, but it is a joke: I'm on the Orange Line on my way in to work, innocently (well, as innocently as I do anything) watching the new Doctor Who episode on my iPod, and I don't hear the announcement, but I see everyone exiting the train, so I go with the crowd.
And the station is filled with smoke.
And as I step onto the platform, I look back at the train, and the smoke is issuing from beneath the car ahead of mine.
First thought: SIGH. Now I have to wait for a new, not-on-fire train.
Second thought: I'm glad I'm already sucking on a cough drop.
Third thought: My second mode-of-transportation fire is WAY less scary than the first.
[Some of you have heard this one already: Mass Pike, 50 miles outside Boston, 11:30 at night on Thanksgiving weekend Saturday, car engine seized up. While we were doing 60-65 mph. Loud grindy noise, smoke pouring from under the hood, car became purely ballistic. Don't try this at home!]
Fourth thought: Dear LiveJournal...
***
To everyone who sent me birthday wishes, thank you! *hugs* I'm having internet problems at home AND at work, so I haven't been able to respond individually yet. Oh, Technology, why must it be feast or famine with you?
(Speaking of feast: Cold Stone Creamery ice cream cake, with layers of red velvet cake, party cake ice cream, and covered in sprinkles. The diet is clearly still in abeyance.)
I'm still working on my con report. I'm almost ashamed to admit that I was too caught up talking to people to drink all that much *g*, so I remember everything fine, except that my brain is fuzzy with con crud. And I still need many more hours of sleep than I've gotten since Monday.
So, there was this thing? Where I really, really want a new apartment, because I really, really hate my landlady? And that was going to be the big plan for April, finding said apartment? This becomes much less likely when The Boy is about to get sent to fucking AMSTERDAM. (Actually, not even--it's a town 100 miles outside of Amsterdam.) I mean, not that I have any beef with Amsterdam, except insofar as how it is very far away from BOSTON.
My MIL always suggests me going along on these kind of trips for a long weekend. Which is--yeah, I have a full-time job, and I just took eight days off in the past three weeks for Vegas and then MJ, and we're in the middle of renovating the library--again--so, no, not gonna happen. Not to mention that, given how my immune system is currently rolling over for anything that winks at it, a whirlwind trip to AMSTERDAM and back would probably kill me dead.
I'm not sure if it's the construction noises or the smoke inhalation, but my head hurts. Phbbbt.
In conclusion, I give you something that scarred me: Kermit the Frog hitting rock bottom. The audio is bad enough, but the video, where Kermit covers NIN's "Hurt"? The Boy showed me that, and I--I want my innocence back. Stat.
And the station is filled with smoke.
And as I step onto the platform, I look back at the train, and the smoke is issuing from beneath the car ahead of mine.
First thought: SIGH. Now I have to wait for a new, not-on-fire train.
Second thought: I'm glad I'm already sucking on a cough drop.
Third thought: My second mode-of-transportation fire is WAY less scary than the first.
[Some of you have heard this one already: Mass Pike, 50 miles outside Boston, 11:30 at night on Thanksgiving weekend Saturday, car engine seized up. While we were doing 60-65 mph. Loud grindy noise, smoke pouring from under the hood, car became purely ballistic. Don't try this at home!]
Fourth thought: Dear LiveJournal...
***
To everyone who sent me birthday wishes, thank you! *hugs* I'm having internet problems at home AND at work, so I haven't been able to respond individually yet. Oh, Technology, why must it be feast or famine with you?
(Speaking of feast: Cold Stone Creamery ice cream cake, with layers of red velvet cake, party cake ice cream, and covered in sprinkles. The diet is clearly still in abeyance.)
I'm still working on my con report. I'm almost ashamed to admit that I was too caught up talking to people to drink all that much *g*, so I remember everything fine, except that my brain is fuzzy with con crud. And I still need many more hours of sleep than I've gotten since Monday.
So, there was this thing? Where I really, really want a new apartment, because I really, really hate my landlady? And that was going to be the big plan for April, finding said apartment? This becomes much less likely when The Boy is about to get sent to fucking AMSTERDAM. (Actually, not even--it's a town 100 miles outside of Amsterdam.) I mean, not that I have any beef with Amsterdam, except insofar as how it is very far away from BOSTON.
My MIL always suggests me going along on these kind of trips for a long weekend. Which is--yeah, I have a full-time job, and I just took eight days off in the past three weeks for Vegas and then MJ, and we're in the middle of renovating the library--again--so, no, not gonna happen. Not to mention that, given how my immune system is currently rolling over for anything that winks at it, a whirlwind trip to AMSTERDAM and back would probably kill me dead.
I'm not sure if it's the construction noises or the smoke inhalation, but my head hurts. Phbbbt.
In conclusion, I give you something that scarred me: Kermit the Frog hitting rock bottom. The audio is bad enough, but the video, where Kermit covers NIN's "Hurt"? The Boy showed me that, and I--I want my innocence back. Stat.
