Hold On Girl

I'm not a small girl nor a large girl. Yet no matter
what my frame, there still seems no excuse for the
actions that occur when I merely remove my hand
from the subway pole for a nanosecond to blow my
nose and as a result of a short but severe train swerve
am jet propelled across the subway car and within
seconds am flailing my arms wildly in hopes to cling
to any sedentary object or closest thing to it which
happened this morning to be the lower leg of a very
surprised Wall Street banker man wearing canary
yellow pants.

Hand Crusher People

What's up with hand crushing people? The kinds
that when you go to shake their hand they crush
it to bits until you hear bones crack? Do they do
this on purpose? Do they stay up late at night
pumping iron and squeezing tennis balls plotting
out who they plan to crush next? I don't know but
Ow. I think I need a hand cast.

This Is Nature. It's good.

Sometimes living in a city gets me down. Not in a horrible way
just a way that makes me feel as if I've been thrown in a blender
at the end of the day. When it's been a while since I've been
out in nature, I find myself impatient and irritable. I do things
like sigh and get annoyed that a mother and small child are
holding hands and not moving faster enough on the sidewalk.
I do things like write about my gym or what bagels would say
if they could talk (see below). Luckily, thanks to a white AVIS
car rental, E and I escaped this weekend towards all things
green.