Getting almost run over

Woah. I'm tired. It's been a long day. I don't know why this blog always posts the wrong time. It's actually 9 at night. I'm so pooped that I've plopped in front of the TV and am watching Seventh Heaven. Yes, that show. I'm so tired, I can't look for the remote (or go upto the TV) to change the damn channel. I'm watching Seventh Heaven. Why is this show still on? Although I must admit, that curly-haired girl is pretty cute. Right now she is talking to her stupid twin brothers about why they went through her stuff. Her twin brothers are supposed to be around 7 or 8 but they sound like they're 2. I can barely understand what they're saying. Wow, I'm hating on 7-yr-old actors. That's how tired I am. I can't think of anything to hate on except what's directly in front of me. Then again, these 7-yr old twins (who by the way look NOTHING alike and sadly are supposed to play identical twins- I guess the show expects us to be as idiotic as them) make more money than I do. Isn't that sad? After 4 yrs at a prestigious top school, after 4 yrs at a nerdy magnet school, after many yrs of training my brain to think as efficiently as possible, being the only girl on math team, at science fairs, etc., 7 yr olds who recite lines as stiffly as wooden pencils and manage to even sound retarded (pardon the French) make more money than me. Welcome to Earth.

This is my story for today: Today I tried an experiment with a friend of mine. I love this friend to death, but she has an annoying habit of standing a bit to close to me. I mean, she stands REALLY close to me. Like her arm-touching-my-arm close. Sometimes I'll be talking to someone and she'll come behind me and join in the conversation. That's fine, but must she attach herself to me like a freaking leech? When speaking to her, I often have to slowly lean backwards so that I can actually see her face. Today I decided not to be discreet.

We were standing at a crosswalk and having a nice conversation. Unfortunately this lovely conversation was only a few uncomfortable milimeters apart. I mean, our arms were touching. Sacrilege.

So I took a step backwards. She continued talking, and took a step forward. I took another step backwards. Without missing a beat and still talking about her boyfriend, she took a step towards me. I took another step backwards and she took another step forward. It was like a mini tango. This weird little dance went on until I was way beyond the cross walk and in the freaking street and then almost got run over by an angry truck driver!!! That's the only reason why I stopped moving backwards. The threat of DEATH. That's how much I value my personal space. And through it all, she never noticed a thing.

Anyway, as you can see, the experiment was a miserable failure. I suppose I'll have to live with the fact that she's a "close talker" and I'm a paranoid New Yorker. Welcome to Earth. =)