Your name is Wild

Today has been an emotional rollercoaster, and it's not even 10:00 a.m. yet.

So I get on BART at 24th and get off at Civic Center and I'm walking towards the fare gate and reaching for my shirt pocket where I usually stick my ticket and OHFUCKINGNO it's not there. So I stand there with that bewildered look while all the commuters flow around me and I search every pocket and come up empty. I just lost my Fast Pass.

I explain my situation to the BART girl (who looks like she's about 14, BTW - did BART start hiring middle-schoolers?) and she tells me that usually it's $4.90 for a lost ticket but I must look extra-forlorn because she lets me out for free.

I get to to the office and am thinking about how I'm going to handle commuting for the rest of the month (srsly, I use my Fast Pass every day, bar none) and I'm taking off my coat and IT FLUTTERS TO THE GROUND LIKE A BLUE SNOWFLAKE. I had somehow wedged it between my coat and my shirt. THANK YOU JESUS FOR THE SAFE RETURN OF MY FAST PASS.



Happy Friday, everybody!

Super Hot Irish Girlfriend is detoxing. No, not rehab, but maybe worse: no dairy, gluten, caffeine, alcohol, or crack cocaine. You can read all about it (in short daily bursts) here.

I'm sure everyone's heard about the Girl Scout who tried selling cookies online and mean old Girl Scouts Inc. made her stop and blah blah blah it's a funny human interest story and everything but did you see that the girl's name is WILD FREEBORN? Who the fuck names their daughter "Wild"? That's the kind of name that you'd only hear preceded by "Now on the main stage in the Champagne Room, it's...."

P.S. I just realized that Fast Pass story may not be interesting to anybody but me. I guess that's why this is a blog and not CNN. Oh well.

P.P.S. Bonus points if you know where the title of this post comes from.