33 Across

When I get on the metro in the morning, I'm usually not at the top of my game.  I always get a copy of the Washington Post Express from Johnny, who has been outside the Rockville Metro for close to a decade.  I  skim through the paper; I have to check the horoscopes.  I am a Capricorn, and depending on who is in my life at any given moment, I skim their's too  (I'll let you know if it's gonna be one of those days; one of the many services I provide).  After that, I read through the ridiculous celebrity news.  The Express has some very funny writers, and the last page is their showboat; I often giggle outloud at their clever wordsmithing.  That done, I have to find something else to occupy the next 45 minutes to an hour.

Often, I doze while listening to my iPod, or people-watch while listening to my iPod, or check my Facebook while listening to my iPod (do you see a theme here?).  Every now and then, I am sufficiently competent enough to take on the crossword puzzle...with a pen, because I don't DO pencils.  Today was one of those days. 

As Highlighted and Presented to Dean

As I folded the page to make it optimal for Metro writing, I IMMEDIATELY saw the clue for 33 across, "Kilmer of film."  Those of you who know me, know that I love me some Val Kilmer...even the bloated version.  I am very loyal...and three is my lucky number.  Any combination of threes makes me feel like all's well with the world.  I knew it was going to be a good day, and I dashed off a little message to a couple of friends saying as much. 

Having gotten that distracting little clue out of the way, I started back at the top of the crossword.  The theme of today's crossword was window coverings.  The first themed clue was Navy, to which the answer was Shade of Blue.  Again, this brought to mind a good friend, who was both in the Navy, and likes said color.  Finally, there was the clue for 35 down:"Campus big shot"  Answer: Dean, who is my best friend, and 35 is how old I am!  It doesn't happen often, but I finished the whole puzzle, bouyed by a sense that all the signs were in for a good day. 

I am one of those odd birds that finds patterns and meanings in everything.  I overthink the importance of someone ordering American cheese versus Provalone on a sandwich.  Another oddity is that I have almost no visual memory at all.  I believe this is why I am so verbally inclined.  I associate words and feelings with the people I love, because with few exceptions, I cannot see their faces. Words that evoke thoughts of loved ones is like seeing them in my mind. When I dream about people (which is often, and my dreams are like movies), I know people by the emotions they evoke in me and certain physical attributes (just not the face). I often see people in specific colors.  For example, my mother is always in dark purple or midnight blue; Dean is always in blue (French blue, really); my friend Travis is always in yellow; my sister is always in lilac purple (from a pair of courdoroy culottes she had when we were little); Mike R. is always in navy (and a hat!).  These aren't colors any of them wear particularly often; it's just how my mind works.  Couple the visual cues with the emotional ones, and that is how I know who I'm dreaming about (though I have seen a couple of those peoples faces in my dreams...it's how I know how much they mean to me).

The crossword made me think.  Each person I meet is a word map of symbols, emotions and attributes I associate with them that gets fleshed out and more complex the longer I know them.  How would you remember people if you couldn't close your eyes and see them?  What words would you associate with yourself?  Do they differ from what you want people to associate with you?

Hot digity!

Hello friends. It's been a while. Things have been relatively quiet on the metro, and I briefly had something more interesting than blogging in my life...thank goodness THAT'S over!

Today, its 75 degrees outside and 150 0n the Metro. Concepts like flexibility and reasonable change still elude Metro management.

It's crowded, but not unduly so, so the utter stank of sweating bodies isn't off the nasal charts as yet. I'm facing backward, and a cute little banker dude keeps meeting my eye...yes, i've checked to make sure that the skirt is down, the Girls are in and there's nothing on my face...no accounting for taste.

Also directly in front of me is a relatively normal looking guy with a ginormous duffle bag and a parka that could house a family of eight. He's hanging on to the bar as if it is his lover...and I in fact believe he imagines it were. Every now and then he does a fascinating little pelvic thrust ( the parka is between him and the bar), and arches his head back to the ceiling...all the while muttering something to himself. The two women standing beside him keep looking at him, then each other then me and giggling.

I'd like to sleep to make it all go away but its too hot. There are several men on here who have soaked through their shirts...faces are red and glistening. It's the type of atmosphere that would foment a group of teens into a full on riot. Luckily, this is the working class crew and we dont have the energy to get upset when someone runs our toes over with their pretentious rolling brief cases or slaps us about the pate with their over-sized zebra print bag (yes...both have happened just now).

My gyrating friend wants to be a lifeguard...heaven help us all...he's rockin his grey lifeguard tee tucked into his leather braided belt and pleated navy cargo pants. A few more weeks, and we can start talking about inapproriate flesh-showing in public areas...I, for one, am giddy with excitement

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