Question: Why would anyone ever need to go outside of the perimeter highway?

Answer: Because if I didn't, I'd miss this. . .

"Hey honey, I'm bored"

"Why don't you play chicken with traffic if you're so bored?"

Usually, my walks are relaxing, sometimes they're even downright enlightening. Last night I had a disturbing walk. I so wished I had taken my boss' offer of a ride.

It was after 6. I felt I needed a walk to clear my head before I went to teach yoga. I needed some space, some "me time".

I saw a "man" and a woman on the opposite side of the street. The man was pushing a stroller. He veered suddenly into the street as traffic approached with the stroller pushed as far in front of him as he could manage. He slowed down in every lane with the stroller in front of him, glaring at drivers, and (fortunately) forcing them to slow down. When he got to my side, I felt fear well up in me. I figured I'd just stay behind him and keep him in my sights. He waited for the light to turn, watched the traffic and again pushed the stroller in front of him into traffic. Same deal back to the other side. Now I'm almost in a near panic. Wondering what he'll do next. Wondering if next time he'll push the stroller into the street alone. Wondering why I chose today, of all days, to forget my cell phone in my car. Not that I'd know who to call anyway. "Um, excuse me, 911? Yeah, there's this guy and he's crossing the street. No, no accident. He's just got this really powerful strong negative energy about him. Hello? Hello?"

As he continued on the other side of the street, he ran the stroller over the grass, caught up with the woman (who didn't seem to care, mind, or even notice what he had done), and settled down.

I haven't forgotten it yet. I never did see a child. Perhaps this was his way of proving his manliness, you know, making people think he was playing chicken with a child when really there wasn't a child in the stroller. Hilarious. Why am I not laughing?

The plus is, there are no mosquitos

Kelly asked me last night if I was seriously going to walk to work today. Hmm. . .the stiffling hot outdoors or a stiffling hot and B.O.tastic bus? Not really a question, is it? And since I refuse to pay to park, I grabbed my water bottle (first time I carried one to work) and headed out the door. Definitely sticky but do-able. The crazies weren't out like the last hot morning I walked to work. "Hey, you Nancy's" wasn't heard once. I didn't see one person muttering to themselves or speaking up into the air. Not one. I even managed to get a few "good mornings" out of other walkers this morning. Nice.

I braced myself all day for the walk home. I knew it was plus-effin-insane (much like minus-effin-retarted, but slightly better). I prepared for my walk by packing my bag, preparing my already room temperature water, and changing into my tank top and long, tight, dark blue pants. I meant to put shorts in my bag this morning but forgot. I knew that Safeway (Starbucks) was less than 20 minutes away, and I figured I could handle it. As I stepped outside, my first thought was. . .

"It's actually not that bad!"

Now, if you know anything about me at all, it's this. I do not like heat. I do not like cold. I like 20 degrees, thank you very much. 20 DEGREES! 33 (42 with the humidex) is completely out of my league. Maybe the heat was addling my brain, playing with my thoughts, tricking me. Maybe I was already delusional with heat stroke. As I made it to Roslyn, I passed the gas station and saw the man laying on the floor while paramedics tended to him and the cashier kept serving customers. I wondered if he had succumbed to heat stroke. I wondered why I thought "It's actually not that bad!"

I took comfort in the cool Safeway, got some groceries that didn't have to heat up our already 81 degree main floor, purchased my Decaf-iced-non-fat-caramel macchiato, and headed home.

I'm not sure I'm ok. I'm thinking I've been possessed by a force greater than me. That my body has been inhabited by heat-loving aliens from the sun. I think I should call in crazy to work tomorrow.

If you drop your meat on the road, people will notice you

As I was crossing Roslyn today, a guy crossing from the other direction stopped right in the middle of the street and dropped his meat on the road. Just to hear it smack, I suppose. Then he picked it up and kept walking. The lunch meat (what kind of meat were you thinking of ?!) was no worse for wear and he probably had a nice sandwich for supper.

I actually laughed out loud. Crazy people do crazy things sometimes.

I dislike men in thongs (of all varieties) and other observations in the walk of life

1. Looking down when you walk is very practical.
2. Puke dries in the sun very quickly.
3. People like to hok loogies (I spell "hok" the way I did because I'm not sure how to spell it and because the guy on "So You Think You Can Dance" spells his name that way).
4. The "don't walk" to "walk" at Memorial & Broadway takes between 40 to 42 beeps to change.
5. The bridge is scary.
6. The most depressed man I've ever seen in my life lives in Winnipeg and walks by me on the bridge quite often.
7. People like to "do things" on/to the bridge - throw eggs, hok loogies, puke, allow their dogs to shit, steal the life saving device (twice). Which reminds me, if my worst fear ever comes true and someone (see #6) does pick me up and throw me over the bridge, what if the doohickey is gone? What will people throw to help save me? Eggs? Loogies?
8. Dog shit is very interesting to observe. One day it's a fresh pile, the next someone decides to step in it to see what their shoe print looks like, the next day it's HALF gone, the next day someone has cleaned it up.
9. Not everyone is friendly.
10. Smokers are mostly friendly.
11. Men who think I'm flirting with them should be happy about it (have I lost my charm?)
12. The guy at Starbucks loves Fruit & Almond Seed Bars too.
13. I love my daily walk. What should I do when winter comes?

When did hopscotch become so complicated?

The Customer Service Department is in the box just through those doors

Dillon works in a 6'x6'x8' box and yet he is a master of customer service. As soon as the doors open, he steps forward, smiles, greets you, invites you in the box, and takes care of you. He waits for you when you leave the box if no one else needs him right then. He laughs at jokes about Seinfeld. He is Customer Service.

Dillon is the security guard in a building I visited recently. Not only is he a security guard, he's the guy they want in the elevator that goes all the way to the top - you know, the Boardroom Elevator. Dillon spends meeting days travelling up and down, up and down, down and up, up and down, up and, well, you get the picture. Considering I have dizzy spells after one round in the elevator at work, this impresses me.

Dillon does NOT love his job in the elevator. When I asked him about it, he said he really didn't enjoy meeting days and working in the elevator. You'd never know that, though. He was the consumate professional, with an incredible attitude towards people. He didn't have to say it, you just knew that he understood his role as a customer service ambassador for his company.

Anyone who laughs at a Seinfeld reference is ok in my books. A man that serves me - well, that's just above and beyond.