Thanks Ovaries!

According to "reliable sources"(Cosmo et al), you are your most subliminal-y hottest when you're ovulating.  Now, I can seriously say I do not normally agree with anything in Cosmo - it is after all a magazine that survives solely on republishing the same drivel month after after in new forms - all of it preying on our internal Madonna/Whore dichotomy.

Nevertheless - back to my ovaries - apparently they are working right now.  I had some nice eye contact with a handsome man in the Starbucks line - totally a moment.* The one that impressed me more though was as I was on the packed express bus dripping with sweat (our driver dressed in shorts was determined to offset the cold outside - dude it's time for pants).  But of course I had my purse, laptop, e-book reader and a cup of coffee all more or less balanced on my lap.  It doesn't really leave room for the removal of one's jacket.  I did manage to get one arm out but I couldn't seem to navigate the second one.  That is until this extra hand appeared removing my coat.  Manners! In a young man nonetheless! He said, "It looked like you needed help, didn't want you to spill your coffee."  Seriously I could have hugged him - I felt like my thank-you was not enough to convey how refreshing it was to have someone be kind, especially someone of his age and gender.

But back to the at moment.*  The reason I give credit to my ovaries and not my personal awesomeness is well I am a graduate student - and we for the most part do not always look awesome.  I know you can say who am I to generalize.  True. Very true.  But compared to the corporate world - the ladies in the Starbucks line in pencil skirts, lots of leg and heels (gorgeous heels), who am I?  His attention actually made me acutely aware that I feel naked now that I'm not in the corporate world.   I miss my corporate clothes.  I miss the security that came with those high heels and skirts.  Now I'm just the very adult woman trying to figure out the world of skinny jeans and flats.   All that being said, as much as that moment in Starbucks made me uncomfortable, maybe it's an indicator that I'm doing okay in this new world, at least aesthetically speaking - as for grade wise - well that remains to be seen.

Feeling Lost in more ways than one...

Last night AB asked me over for our more or less weekly TV viewing together (Lost), which was fine in and of itself. The issue was I had a prior date with Ms. J to run myself into a legitimate runner, given that I rely on an irregular chauffeur I decided to suggest I change at AB's. So Ms. J and I logged my 7 miles as per necessary and chatted about H1N1 procedures, someone should seriously tape up for some kind of iPod show or something entitled "All the Things You Should Know but You're too Ignorant to Care" or something like that. At 8:30pm I found myself sweaty and in the unflattering lights of the train heading downtown, arriving at about 9, still sweaty-ish and really in need of a shower, which AB so graciously offered. I have to say showering in someones home is a odd thing, how long you're in there, the state of the bathroom etc, but in the end I didn't care. With wet hair and minimal makeup I took my standard spot next to AB on the couch, sandwiched between him and his roommate. Speaking of sandwich, did you know that running 7 miles on an empty stomach can make someone really hungry. AB whispered I was to tell him when I was hungry enough to make him whip something up - I was gifted with clam chowder (minus the milk), garlic toast (blessed mother I smelled something foul) and Caesar salad. It really is perfect, someone who can cook is better than a custom pair of Manolo's to this runner. After the garlic fest we continued watching Lost somewhere after the 3rd episode Roommate and Roommate's Boy left, and AB and I settled a little more comfortably on the couch, in the end cuddling despite his objection to the wet hair. Of course I could have just fallen asleep there propped under his arm, hand in hand. But alas my glass slipper once again started to turn at about 12 and I was off to visit my night chauffeur and the Ladies of Lucite that hang out by the bus stop...

I have to say it was annoying that AB doesn't seem too comfortable with me when Roommate is around, I'm not sure why, maybe it just complicates something that hasn't already been made complicated and then uncomplicated, this weekend will prove to be interesting in the direction of things.

Note: Watching Sawyer and Kate when you have an undefined relationship isn't really advisable, though it is a good way to hear your date's heart and breathing change... sorry AB, yogi's catch those things

Commuting Calamity

I think it's fair to say I am being laughed at by the cosmos, and all I have to say to that is hmph, really? Okay so I have to say I didn't feel that way when I looked to my right this morning, there he was, afternoon bus boy, the one I actually have flirted with. This was only after I finished off my large serving of bran and organic yogurt right from the large tub (it was not the whole tub, just a convenient usage of the remainder). Each other's presence was acknowledged and there it was left, left with us sitting on either ends of the train, waiting, only to realize we get off at the same stop. The creepy thing was that is was in act the self exposure of ourselves. It is one thing to get on a bus at a major loop with trains and bus converging, we could have been coming from any which direction possible, however it turns out we both make the same one hour commute to the same stop. We daily get on and off at the same stop an hour or so from our respective home bus stops. Maybe it's surprising to say that I find that new information in both of our data banks more invasive and revealing than the bus ride back before Christmas we spent pressed into each other (packed bus, nothing more).

Oh well, Happy Tuesday and on that wonderful note a theme song for this week,