This morning, I got to the train depot and took my iPod Video out of my purple Jansport backpack and moved it into my pants hip pocket. I have a purple backpack because my great aunt doesn't like to strengthen gender stereotypes, but has always called me her Little Royalty.
The train ride from my apartment to work takes about 35 minutes. I was listening to my iPod on "Party Shuffle"-mode when this Simon and Garfunkel song (The Boxer??) came on while I happened to be staring out into a sunny, early-October, Philadelphia morning. The rising sun lit up the skyline's silhouette with gentle splendor. Our train turned a curve and the high buildings receded, leaving the sun to hit me right in the eyes, forcing my gaze inward. I'm glad it did, because what I saw before me was a single mother, tying her son's little-boy shoes. Don't ask me how I knew she was single!
Well, either way, the point is: I got really nostalgic. I felt whimsical! I straightened up in my seat to take my iPod Video out of my hip pocket (where it's hardest to steal), went to the "Movies," and watched Feist's One, Two, Three, Four video several times in a row before I arrived at work. Today, at work, I read all my forwarded e-mails, and I am thankful for it. I am thankful for life. Things are really going good right now.
Well, either way, the point is: I got really nostalgic. I felt whimsical! I straightened up in my seat to take my iPod Video out of my hip pocket (where it's hardest to steal), went to the "Movies," and watched Feist's One, Two, Three, Four video several times in a row before I arrived at work. Today, at work, I read all my forwarded e-mails, and I am thankful for it. I am thankful for life. Things are really going good right now.
