Also, did you see Sunday's Boondocks. Made me laugh. I can't find a broadcast of it, but it's hysterical.

Here it is. SO funny. I had to forward it to my friend who had just seen Mark Ruffalo running in the cold rain in shorts and a tshirt.

I used to love changing the toner at my old job -- it was this whole mess-free system.

Hello, peeps. Blizzards are no great shakes to me -- just weather 2x. Hurricanes, more shakes. Tornado, too many shakes. Earthquakes: no fair. That just ain't right.

Almost the entirety of my self-defense sensibility may be marked up to a manner that brooks little nonsense. I don't know if it works on muggers (never having met one) but I have personal evidence that it deflates obnoxious adolescents and makes me invisible to obnoxious college boys. Can't complain.

DUDE. Don't talk to me on the subway.

Northeast Rules of Conduct! I saw a couple of Mormon missionaries last night on my commute home, and I could tell that was what they were. Because, aside from the nametags and black trench coats, they were walking down the hill and I was walking up the hill and as I passed they said hello. To a stranger! Clearly, their customs are not our customs.

The rules are nuanced but relatively obvious:

• Standing around waiting for a bus together -- 10 minutes before you may make conversation.
  
• Waiting for a bus in crappy weather -- 5 minutes.
  
• Reading openly over the shoulder on the T -- 15 minutes, less if the book-owner slows down to let you read along.
  
• Reading upside down and backwards on the T -- never.
  
• Not actually establishing any kind of nonverbal relationship on the T -- never.
  
• Reading someone else's crossword puzzle on the T -- 20 minutes, and ask before contributing an answer.
  
• Waiting while the T is stuck between stations -- 20 minutes, and the tourists will talk sooner.
  
• Waiting on the T platform -- never, unless to give directions to lost people.
  
• Waiting on the T platform with fellow commuters you recognize -- double never.
  
• Just walking down the street in the same direction -- triple never.
  
• Walking in opposite directions down the street -- my hair better be on fire and you're stopping to notify me of this. Or else you are not from these parts and I will ignore you (if I am polite) or give you my WTF face (if not). Either way, I will not respond verbally.

All stranger-contact rules suspended within 100 miles of Boston in the event of the Red Sox in the playoffs, a division race closer than 4 games from August 1 onward, and the Patriots winning the Superbowl.

Rules for the NYC subway: [link]

severely late commentary

They put a lot of conscious effort into smiling but not holding eye contact, ducking, bowing, slouching, gauging whether any particular woman is going to be more comfortable going in or out of the elevator first or last, having the door held or not, being greeted or being ignored. They're acutely aware of their physical personae, and aware of how odd this awareness is, that it's a sort of freak funhouse mirror image of the hyper-awareness that most of the women in their lives go through the world with.

Z does this, as well. It's odd to watch such a large man sort of... fold himself up. He switches it off if I'm right next to him, though, because it seems like I give him a.... legitimacy? A pass? Except directly after the accident, when I had two black eyes, a split lip, and other nastiness. Then he just got death-glares.

Rules for the NYC subway: [link]

That guy knows what he's talking about. I have realized that I get much of my aggression out by slamming into people who are trying to get on the train before I've gotten off.

Reading openly over the shoulder on the T -- 15 minutes, less if the book-owner slows down to let you read along.

Reading someone else's crossword puzzle on the T -- 20 minutes, and ask before contributing an answer.

How are these not killing offenses? I don't let loved ones do those, much less strangers on a train.

::marries McGruder::

Lee, it's strange and disconcerting, but apparently we are not to get used to it.

he needs to add no talking, no pole hugging, legs together when sitting, bags on the floor or your lap, ignore all crazy people, take your trash with you, and turn your music down so I can't hear it.

Reading someone else's paper is OK, as long as you're subtle.

Oh, and I heard someone listening to Duran Duran on the train yesterday, and I loooved it. I actually generally don't mind hearing other people's music.

Reading someone else's paper is OK, as long as you're subtle.

But you have to be so subtle that I don't notice. In which case you can start right away. I don't care HOW many minutes have passed, if I can tell.

If you keep your eyes on your own paper, you'll never even notice.