Birdie Doo-Doo

Tuesday, May 2, 2006 - 7:45 a.m.

I am happily back to taking the train. I would love to had a long tome for you about yesterday's protest and trying to get home. That is what everyone seemed to focus on today at work. I worked from home yesterday and did not encounter the el or any protesters.

There was a large man with his large 9-year old son walking down the street. I saw them on the way to the station. I could not hear what they were saying except for when the man exclaimed, "See there an a good example of a car covered in birdie doo-doo."

This throwback girl to the punks in my high school was standing outsidce the train station. Black-dyed hair, thick eyeline, black leather jacket with "The Cure" stitched into it. She reminded me of this one girl who was a preppy popular girl in junior high and then became part of the punk crowd in high school.

I sat on the train next to this woman who had a conversation with herself the whole ride. "I just need to remind you ..." , "you know what I think about that ..." was coming out of her mouth. Nothing phase the flow of self-conversation. Even when I got up to exit the train, she was talking still.

I saw a co-worker on the train who was engrossed in his book. I made a point to not have him notice me. Don't get me wrong, I like this co-worker, Matthew, but he did have a serene quality to his reading.

I began the book, The History of Love, A Novel. I am hooked after the first 12 pages.