I've decided the cellular phone is about the most insidious invention mankind ever came up with. I take public transportation (buses and what we in Chicago call "the El," for "the elevated train," even though a fair chunk of it is actually a subway) everywhere I go, unless I manage to get a lift from some kind friend. I enjoy it, most of the time, because I enjoy reading on said vehicles and then suddenly being where I needed to be. I don't really have to think about it.
Anyway, today I was on the bus, engrossed in a book ("Storm Front," by Jim Butcher, if you're curious), and an obnoxious woman roughly my age sat down in the seat in front of me and proceeded to have a long, annoying, and very loud conversation with someone on her cellular phone. It had something to do with George Clooney, and how he's getting too old to be attractive. I actually got off the bus a few blocks early just to avoid hearing any more, and went to a nearby restaurant to sit and read some more and have a tasty bite to eat. Sure enough, someone sat at the table next to me (this time, a man) and proceeded to shout into his cellular phone about what an "annoying bitch" his girlfriend is. I was tempted to ask him if she rode the #97 bus, but I couldn't get his attention, and anyway I never appreciated being punched in the face . . .
I was reminded of the time _I_ wound up being the person having the annoying personal conversation on his cellular phone while riding the bus. I'd just seen my new psychiatrist, and was generally pleased with the outcome of the meeting. A friend called, and I said I was on the bus and would call back in a little while. She asked, "Where are you coming from?", and I proceeded to explain the details of my psychiatric evaluation. On a crowded bus.
They're like that, though: The phone's sitting right there in your pocket (or wherever you prefer to keep it on your person), and it rings . . . are you just going to ignore it? Or answer it, and talk to (presumably) someone you like to talk to? And it's ALWAYS there, even when you're not in a position to speak frankly. Sooner or later, you just forget that there are some places it is improper to have conversations of a personal nature.
In other news, a Diaryland friend recently posted a description of a pudding that sounds absolutely delicious, and I cannot quite concentrate enough on anything else at the moment.
I. Love. Pudding.
The weather finally took a turn towards the downright chilly last night, and rather than do anything useful after work I cracked the window and snuggled up in bed and watched television. I almost watched a movie from my (currently small) collection, but I was too snuggly comfortable to get back out of bed. I love chilly weather, and snuggling under blankets to zone out in front of the television. Ideally, I'd have hot chocolate or some tea to add to the experience, but I was out of both at the moment. I still am, but I work at a store and don't really enjoy going to them on my day off. Tomorrow, before I leave work, I'll rectify BOTH problems. It's the time of year when I should always have tea and hot chocolate on hand.
Peace, kats and kittens.