Wednesday, February 8, 2006 - 8:25 a.m.

A man came up behind me as I was waiting for the train and muttered to himself "That's really too bad." I looked at him and he was not speaking particularly to anyone. I could not tell what was really too bad or what the reference was. He was not on the phone and looked a little dissheveled. The creepy thing is that he had the same sounding voice as my vice president.

There was a woman who got on at Belmont. The train was pretty crowded so she was standing and holding on to the pole right in front of me. She was trying to read the RedEye as she stood. The corner of her paper kept catching my hair front time to time. At one point I moved my head a bit but it did not work. She felt really bad a apologized profusely. It happened a couple of more times but I found it strangely comical rather than annoying.

Ran into a friend who also ran into another friend who she works with. This other man was talking about his mid-year review which strangely enough I had yesterday as well. Then he said it went better than his mid-season review which struck me as odd. So this man has four reviews a year? One annual, one mid-year and two mid-season? He works for a very large advertising agency and hopefully he is happy there. Hopefully, they are happy with him. If they are not, they have four times a year where they can tell him about it.

I have started a new book, called "Never Let Me Go" by Kazuo Ishiguro who wrote "Remains of the Day". Will keep you posted.



Tuesday, February 7, 2006 - 6:35 p.m.

For future reference:

doorhugger. door-hug-ger. (dôr-hug-gr). n. A word I made up to describe a person who despite the availability of seats or the amount of people on an el train, feel the need to crowd around the exit to be the first one off the train making it difficult for others to enter or exit the train.

The evening train was filled with empty seats and doorhuggers. They were especially a problem for me with the amount of crap I was carrying from just coming from the gym.

I sat next to a guy who was very fidgetty which was contagious and I became very fidgety. We had plenty of room but it was perplexing why we both found the presence of the other person so uncomfortable.