A few years ago if I told you that a nudist resort is following me on twitter, you’d ask me if I was having a stroke. Being a neubie on twitter, I check trends, I read famous/favrd peoples tweets, I get these emails and sometimes wonder if I am having a stroke.

Carpooling to work this morning, I noticed that someone had put up a “bullfrog crossing” sign next to a busy piece of road. I’ve never seen a bullfrog on the road before, then again, about 100+ trucks drive on that road every day.

The cutest little (disease carrying) kitten somehow came in through my front door and was on its way to me. I immediately chased it out yelling “stop ruining Beck with your mewing!”. True story.

Anyway, new layout, new profile pic up and hopefully a bunch of new posts to come (I know I’ve been neglecting my tumblar).

not the greatest place to blog from.

possibly the worst.

So there I am, in a bank, in a queue, listening to Depeche Mode (“Sounds of the Universe” if you must know), not sure if I should be in the express queue or that personal account/transactions queue, I turn to check the length of my queue, because the other one seems shorter and if I get sent back here I might have to requeue. (if you haven’t noticed, I haven’t used the word queue in a few years and I’m catching up).  So there I am, turning my head, to check behind me and here’s this dude who’s really close to me, like kissing distance close. I move away slightly, he doesn’t.

See, when you’re standing in line everyone keeps more or less the same distance away from each other, about the width of one body. But there’s always the exception, there’s always this guy (its always a guy, its never a pretty girl) who’s parents never hugged him enough or who’s uncle hugged him a little too much. This person somehow makes it through life with 1cm of personal space and has no problem getting within snuggle-y distance of you. I attempt several countermeasures: as the next person moves forward, I move forward an inch and then stop suddenly hoping he accidentally bumps into me and then moves back a little; I turn around to look back…stare back for a few seconds, hoping he’ll will back away; I move ahead a little closer to the person in front of me, praying that the bearded groper stays where he is and doesn’t move closer. None of these things helped, luckily the queue was only so long.

will soon resume its regularly scheduled programming