Don't You Hate It When...

In an unabashed attempt to place myself in the running for the super sweet Ipod shuffle over at Shelle's little party, I am posting two - count 'em 2 Don't you hate its.


Don't you hate it when you are traveling in a foreign country (let's say Italy again, just for fun) and you are trying to figure out the public transportation system. And in that particular country, you get on the bus at the front ( just like in America) but everyone gets off in the rear.
You forget this fact and are standing right at the back door and the next stop is a very popular stop and practically the whole entire bus rushes out the back door, pushing you out too. Then, you are frantically trying to get back on the bus, pushing through the throng of exiting people (so that you are not left alone on the side of the road, while your friends are still on the bus). And you finally slip through the back doors just as they are closing, but your giant canvas bag strapped to your shoulder is stuck on the outside of the bus. And the bus pulls away. You are basically trapped in the exit stairwell with your bag hanging outside the door and your face plastered against the door window, as you drive all over Rome, for about 30 minutes until the bus reaches its destination. I hate when that happens. (MsMel - this jogging any memories?)

Don't you just hate it when you pick up lunch at your favorite Cuban restaurant and get the daily special. Grilled chicken with a side of rice and black beans and some sweet plantains. Everything is super delicious as always. You are just finishing up your last few bites and feel something strange and wiry and crunchy in your mouth. And you pull this out of your mouth? A big wiry strand of steel wool. I hate when that happens too.

Now, go right now and vote for me. Here is the link again. Shelle at Blok Thoughts . Make sure you leave your email address so it will count.

Are you still here? Go. Now. Skidaddle.

(but come back later, please, I'm gonna tell a spooky Halloween Story)

And just for clarification, that bus story is all mine and all true. MsMel just happened to be a fortunate observer of my very blonde moment.