After the rains come...the allergies

Yaaaay, allergies. Nose has been constantly running today. My misery is closely mimicked by the photo below:

Yeah, I've got watery, bulgy eyes, have turned slightly green, and I've lost several digits and gained a tail and stuff. Whatever. I feel pretty nastyass. As I inevitably do every year. :) And I was just getting over my phlegm-y cough too!

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In tastier news, I tried Sonoma Chicken Coop in downtown Man Jose this weekend with Bea and Eric since the boy-thing was up :) The Chicken Coop's motto is "Inexpensive Excellence" and I think it mostly lived up to that. Stylish unpretentious place, tasty rotisserie chicken, dessert menu looks delish. Haven't sampled the sweets yet since Yeung and I baked a strawberry-topped cheesecake for my favorite nudie roomie. Definitely trying desserts and a steak or two the next time I'm down there though ;)

And now for the first of (perhaps) a series of:

BART Chronicles
Smelly Man
Whenever I take BART in the mornings, I habitually fall asleep, slouched in my patented public-transportation-napping position. The other morning, as I was getting ready to doze off, a disheveled man sat down next to me. Strange people sitting next to me are fairly normal, but this man was PUNGENT. In an interesting way. First, I could detect the scent of cigarrette smoke, which I find quite unpleasant to begin with. But overlaid with this odor, there was the smell of Chinese pain-relieving aromatic oil. Some of you know what I'm talking about - that clear oil that completely clears your sinuses, pores, and whichever other orifices are nearby. It's the only smell strong enough to cover up the thousand-cow-scent on the drive down I-5 going to LA.

So anyway, Smelly Man smelled like cigarettes and the nostril-flaring oil. Did I still fall asleep? Um...yes.

Trophy Working Woman
I was waiting in the Genentech shuttle line outside the BART station when I noticed this woman rushing toward the station, struggling with a very unwieldy object. Turned out it was a gigantic trophy of some kind. I suppose she could have been a teacher or judge of a contest who had to lug the monstrosity to school or something, but I amused myself with the possibility that she was just really, really proud of winning such a large trophy herself and couldn't bear to part with it. I should start carrying around my elementary school spelling trophy. It has a bee with glasses on top. Spelling Bee. Get it? HAHAHAHA. Yeah, I'm lame. But I wasn't the one who designed the thing!

Do Strippers Take the 8:00 am BART Train?
While in the same shuttle line, I also noted a small woman in a very long, black belted wool coat. She had on white sneakers and was rushing toward the station, so I couldn't help but notice that her coat had a long slit in the front and a long slit up the back, and that she was wearing black hose. So I looked up...and up...and up...until I barely glimpsed the shortest black miniskirt ever. Where was she going at 8:00 am dressed like that? It didn't seem like the most ah...business-like outfit, but I somehow suspect strip joints don't open around 8:00 am either. Or maybe they do, but it can't be a very lucrative shift. Ideas?