Survey (IV)

As most of you know, if I get surveys more than twice via email, then I must post it on my blog. So I apologize for those of you who have read this already, but here you go...

Were you named after anyone?
Not that I know of.

When was the last time you cried?
Sometime in June.

Do you like your handwriting?
Um…I guess so.

What is your favorite lunch meat?
Honey Baked Ham.

Do you have kids?
Hell no.

If you were another person would you be friends with you?
Maybe…at certain times.

Do you use sarcasm a lot?
Yes.

Do you still have your tonsils?
Yes.

Would you bungee jump?
Maybe.

What is your favorite cereal?
Frosted Covered Mini Wheats

Do you untie your shoes when you take them off?
No…it takes too much time.

Do you think you are strong?
Sometimes.

What is your favorite ice cream?
31 Flavors’ Pralines n’ Cream

What is the first thing you notice about people?
Smile.

Red or pink?
Blue.

What is the least favorite thing about yourself?
Too many to list right now.

Who do you miss the most?
My grandma.

Do you want everyone to send this back to you?
n/a.

What color pants and shoes are you wearing?
White pants and black shoes.

What was the last thing you ate?
Watermelon.

What are you listening to right now?
Daughtry’s “Home”

If you were a crayon, what color would you be?
Royal Blue.

Favorite smells?
Certain males…those who know me, know what I mean…but those who don’t know me, probably think I’m weird.

Who was the last person you talked to on the phone?
Jennifer.

Do you like the person who sent this to you?
Yes.

Favorite sports to watch?
Baseball.

Hair color?
Brown.

Eye color?
Brown.

Do you wear contacts?
Yes.

Favorite food?
Sushi.

Scary movies or happy endings?
Happy endings.

Last movie you watched?
The Simpsons.

Favorite flower?
Iris.

Summer or winter?
Summer.

Hugs or kisses?
Both. :)

Favorite dessert?
Banana cream pie or cheesecake or ice cream…I’m all about dessert.

Most likely to respond?
n/a.

Least likely to respond?
n/a.

What book are you reading now?
The Devil Wears Prada…it’s taking me forever to get through it.

What is on your mouse pad?
A picture of a beach house.

What did you watch on T.V. last night?
America’s Next Top Model.

Favorite sound?
Music.

Favorite candy bar?
Twix.

Where is the farthest you’ve been from home?
Hong Kong.

Do you have a special talent?
Hahaha…I have many.

Where were you born?
San Francisco, CA.

Tourist

In my normal, day-to-day life, I am fairly pro-tourist. I have a distaste for those who try to prove how “city” they are by constantly grousing about the tourists being under foot. I feel flattered and lucky to live in an area people like enough to visit during their hard-earned vacations.

And now, here comes the big but.

I think I reached a tipping point today.

With school out and the nice weather to enjoy, the tourists have really descended. And over the last few days, it has reached code-red levels on my commute.

The problem doesn't lie with all tourists. Just the stupid, oblivious ones. Those who insist on taking the train during rush hour, and being totally unprepared for the experience. Like here are the Andersons from Montana, milling around in front of the ticket gate, blocking everyone's way, while Dad curses euphemistically as he tries to figure out how the tickets go into the slot. The babies are screeching and the older kids are running around while Mom chases futilely after them. "Tyler? Tyler? Get back here. This is counterproductive behavior, young man. Remember our discussion? Caitlin! Don't touch that. Tyler! Tyler, Don’t Kick The Nice Man! This is WILDLY INAPPROPRIATE!!!"

I maneuver past them and board the train. But a few stops down, there's a huge, extended, rather overly-permed family (I'm guessing they're from the Dakotas) waiting. The doors open. They hover uncertainly in front of them (again, blocking everyone's path). They wonder aloud: "Do you think this is the right train? Should we get on? Excuse me, sir? Does this go Downtown?" At the very last second, they decide to waddle aboard. All freakin’ twenty-seven of them. Shouting and playing and laughing like hyenas. Meanwhile, the doors are trying to close on them, which just makes them laugh harder, blithely unaware of the fact that blocking the doors is the fastest way to break the train, meaning we'd all have to get off and cram onto the next one. Looks like I picked the wrong day to leave my gun at home.

So tourists, if you're reading this, I want to say a few things: This is a real, working city. This is not Six Flags. The subway is not a roller coaster. Some of us are just trying to get to and from work. I could go on and on. I could talk about you constantly breaking the ironclad rule of not standing on the left side of the escalator. But I guess I'll stop. In the meantime, I've got my eye on you. Better shape up. Or at least, travel during the hours of 10 and 3 on the train.

That’d be much appreciated. Thanks.